“’Kay.”
Over the last couple of weeks, since that night at Lucky’s, I haven’t looked too deeply into my reasons for suddenly wanting to stick around Greenfield. I know one thing’s for sure: It can’t have anything to do with Laney. I mean, she’s got a life in another town, and for all I know could be marrying someone else. There would be no reason for me to stay here for her. But still, there’s something in me that’s just not ready to move on yet. A gut instinct. And, for a guy, I’m fairly intuitive, so I listen to my gut. And my gut’s telling me to stay. At least for a while.
TWENTY-SEVEN: Laney
Summerton. It was always the perfect place for me. It was far enough away from my parents, but not too far. It was bigger than Greenfield, but not too big. It had stuff to do, but was still a good place to raise a family. It had more job opportunities for me and for Shane, yet it wasn’t so big we could never move up in the world.
What a difference a few short months makes!
I unlock the door to the apartment I’ve barely stayed in. I rented it shortly after getting my first job. I signed the lease for one year thinking that I would only need it for a short time. I figured Shane and I would be getting married within that year and then moving into our first home together.
Now, I look around the cute space—the bright eggshell walls, the cheerful yellow curtains, the comfy ecru couch with its yellow and white throw pillows—and I feel nothing but disappointment. With . . . everything. Nothing turned out like I thought it would. Not that I’d really want that version of my life now.
It didn’t take me long to realize I didn’t love Shane. Not really. He seemed like everything I wanted. He fit the description to a T. The problem was that, until recently, I didn’t know who I was, much less how to go about finding what would make me happy. I’d still love a husband and a family and a home to take care of, but all that has shifted to encompass so much more. Laughter, excitement, passion. True love.
But it’s looking like I’ll never have any of that. At least not the vivacious version that I felt for a few short weeks. I might be able to find some watered-down version of it with a man that will . . . do. But what girl ever dreams about going through an entire lifetime with a person she settled for?
Not me.
For the thousandth time, I hold back tears. I’ve mourned Jake enough for three or four lifetimes. I need to move on.
The problem is, I don’t know how.
There was no real ending. No closure. We just . . . stopped.
Would I rather have spilled my guts and had to watch Jake awkwardly try not to further crush me? No. But in a way, that would’ve been preferable. At least it would feel over. Final. Not like it does now. Every day, I wake up like I’m in limbo. I go through the motions of living, but I’m not alive at all. Not really. It’s like I’m stuck back in those weeks with Jake, the weeks when life held so much promise.
Now it just seems bleak.
Hopeless.
Empty.
TWENTY-EIGHT: Jake
When the lawyer’s office called to tell me they were sending someone out, I should’ve asked who it was. But I didn’t. Maybe I didn’t want to expect Laney. Or maybe I didn’t want to not expect her. I’m not sure which is worse.
But now, waiting on the porch, I wish I’d asked. The anticipation is killing me.
I’ve thought of what I’ll say. I’ll congratulate her on her engagement and ask if they’ve set a date. That will tell me if it’s legit. Then I’ll ask if he makes her happy. If she says yes, I’ll move on. There’ll be no reason to ever think of Laney Holt again.
If only I can manage to get her out of my head. Out of my blood.
But what has me on pins and needles is wondering what I’ll say if she says no. What if he doesn’t make her happy? What if she’s reconsidered and realizes that she can’t live without me? Then what will I say? What will I do? Nothing has changed for me. Not really. I’m still bad for her. I’m still bad for anyone to get close to.
But damn, how I want to!
Never has my past haunted me like this. Like a demon. Like something I can’t shake no matter how hard I try.
Probably because I’ve never tried before. I’ve never wanted to be anything other than who I am. Who I was.
Until now.
Until Laney.
But that doesn’t seem to change anything, either.
Disappointment sets in when I see a shiny black sedan making its way along the driveway toward me. Even if Laney had gotten a new car, she’d never get something like this. This is an old, stuck-up, rich-guy car. And Laney is none of those things.
When it pulls to a stop in front of me, I’m already out of patience for the visit.
I guess I really should’ve asked if Laney would be coming.
Now, I’m just cranky.
The driver’s side opens and a tall, heavyset, white-haired man gets out, tugging on his vest then buttoning his jacket.
Pretentious.
He leans into his car and brings out his briefcase then closes the door and walks toward the porch. “You must be Jake. Robert Wilkins, but you can call me Bob.”
His handshake is firm, but his smile is pleasant. He’s much less of an asshole than I expected. Nice surprise.
“Come on in,” I say, turning for the front door.
“We can stay out here if it’s all the same to you. There’s something about a big porch and fresh country air . . .” He inhales deeply and unbuttons his jacket as he lowers himself into one of the four straight-backed rockers. “So, young man, you’ve had a lot on your plate lately. How you holding up?”
I shrug, which aggravates the shit out of me. I never used to do that. I never used to feel like I didn’t know exactly what I was doing, where I was going, and what I wanted. Until now.
And now, all those things seemed to be wrapped up in one person that I can’t have and shouldn’t want.
“I’m okay. Just ready to get this over with. Obviously, I’m willing to do whatever is necessary to keep the orchard with me and Jenna.”
“Well, it’s looking like the gods are in your favor.”
“And why is that?”
“Your aunt’s attorney contacted me this morning, shortly after I filed the inventory. It seems her husband has come into quite a bit of money and they’ll be leaving the county, which means she’d have to hire someone to run the operation here if she were to gain a controlling interest. Evidently, that just wasn’t very appealing to her, so she has submitted that she’d like to revert to an arrangement similar to what she enjoyed with your parents. Just a monthly sum that’ll be deposited into her account. No real say in the day-to-day operations.”
While that’s definitely good news, I hate to have her involved in this place in any way. Who’s to say she won’t pull this same stunt again if Turkey (her husband) loses his ass out there?
Nobody. So it’s up to me to do what I can to prevent it.
“I’m glad she’s found some other means of making money in life, but you’ll understand if I’m not comforted by her rash decision. She could just as easily come back at a future date and try this again.”
Bob nods. “Which is why I would suggest that you make an offer to buy her out with one lump sum. You’ve got some valuable assets that you could probably part with and not feel the sting of it quite so much, if you get what I mean.”
“Yes, I do. What did you have in mind?”