I give Tripp a final wave before walking toward my apartment. Since I’ve already showered, I just need to put on clean clothes and eat something. I snagged the shirt Tripp let me sleep in and added it to the other one he gave me. It’s overwhelming how strong my feelings have grown for him in such a short time, and it’s obvious he has the same ones for me, which is why I froze after he told me the sweetest words I’ve ever heard. I’m not used to having a boyfriend who showers me with kindness and isn’t afraid to tell me exactly what’s on his mind.
And how fucking sad is that?
It took me off guard how easy it was for him to tell me how proud of me he was. I don’t think my own father has even said those words to me. Though it’s not because he isn’t. He just isn’t a man of many words.
But it’s nice to hear them once in a while.
After I change and stuff a granola bar into my mouth, I text my dad to let him know I’m on my way.
When I get to my SUV and see something under my windshield wipers, I stop dead in my tracks. I’ve seen enough videos on social media talking about various traps for human trafficking that include distracting someone outside their vehicles with money or flyers on their car so they can grab you from behind.
Not today, Satan.
I grab my taser from my bag and hold it in my hand while I circle around to check my surroundings. A few of my neighbors are outside smoking and another is walking their dog. It’s the middle of the day in a somewhat busy parking lot, so I’d hope if anyone hears me screaming, they’d come to rescue me, but again, I’m not depending on anyone to save me.
Hesitantly, I get closer to my car and keep my taser stretched out in my hand. As I step toward the windshield, I notice a single-stem rose and a folded piece of paper.
Son of a bitch. That better not be from who I think it’s from.
Yanking it out from underneath the wiper, I grab it and quickly unlock my car to jump inside.
I toss the rose onto my passenger’s side, and although I don’t give a shit what he says, I want to make sure it’s not from some random creep.
I’m sorry for what happened the other day. I just miss you and wish you’d give me another chance. I know I was part of the problem in the past, but I’ve changed. I want us to live together and plan our future.
Please forgive me.
-Travis
Did he honestly write he was part of the problem?
Oh, you stupid fucker. You’re the whole-ass problem.
His level of delusion is honestly astounding. I’ve got to give it to him, though, for not giving up after I kicked him in the balls and threatened him with bodily harm.
It’s one thing to be a shitty partner, but Travis has literally tried gaslighting me over what my own eye color was. He claimed they were green like lima beans, and I looked him dead in his eyes and said, they’re brown. He went on for ten minutes about how they were in fact not brown. I almost considered he was color-blind before realizing he just couldn’t handle being wrong.
I crinkle up the paper to throw in my back seat, but then I think better of it. If he continues harassing me after I’ve already told him no and I need to get a restraining order, I’ll need proof for the courts. So instead, I flatten and fold it up and then set it down next to the rose so I’ll remember to take it into my apartment with me.
As I drive through town, the sheriff’s SUV and fire department’s truck block the corner of Main and First Street. It’s usually blocked off for the farmer’s market, but that should be over now. This looks like something else completely.
I reroute and go down another street toward Sage Meadow Homes. It’s been a month since I’ve visited and no matter how often or not I come, I always feel a bit nervous.
“Hi, sweetie.” Dad opens the door, smiling around his long salt-and-pepper beard that matches his shaggy hair.
“Hey.” I walk in and give him a hug. “How’re things today?”
He shrugs with a frown, closing the door behind me. “She no ’s in a depressive cycle.”
I nod, understanding what that means. It’s the version I saw of her the most growing up. Sometimes we’d just sit together while she watched TV and she’d randomly talk to me about the characters in her show as if they were real people. I’ve seen random Grey’s Anatomy episodes, never in order, but I could tell you every single main character’s name and what their specialty is based on how much my mom talks about them. Alex and Meredith are her favorites. And according to her, screw Dr. Burke.
“I put a pot on. Want some?”
Considering I haven’t had an ounce of caffeine, that sounds perfect. “Yes, please. Do you have—”
“Sugar-free hazelnut creamer? Just grabbed some from the store for ya this mornin’.”
I smile as I sit down at the little kitchen table. “Thanks, Dad.”
He brings over two mugs and the creamer. Then he sets out a little platter of strawberry Fig Newton’s with a scoop of peanut butter for dipping. It’s been our thing for as long as I can remember. It tastes like a mini PB&J.
“How come you didn’t work downtown today?” He takes the seat across from me, dips his cookie, and then dunks it into his mug.
“I was sick last night and slept in.”
“Are you feelin’ well now?” he asks.
“Better, yeah. I ended up eatin’ popcorn, candy, and a slushie in a two-hour period, so it upset my stomach. Guess I’m not twelve anymore.” I laugh, stirring in my creamer.
The scanner Dad always has on goes off and makes me jump. “Holy crap, that scared me.”
“Sorry.” He lowers the volume. “Been going off all mornin’. Brinkley’s Jewelry got robbed last night.”
My jaw drops. “That must be why Main Street was blocked off.”
“Yep, they smashed a brick through the window and broke through all the glass cabinets. Must’ve been a speedy fella because the alarm company got the deputies out in seven minutes and they were already gone.”
“Wow. How sad for the Brinkley family.”
“Second robbery in town this month,” he tells me. “The pawn shop got hit two weeks ago.”
My brows shoot up because it’s already uncommon to have one robbery in Sugarland Creek, but to have two? Nearly unheard of.
“Sounds like it coulda been the same person, then,” I suggest.
“That’s what I think, too. The guys at work and I were talkin’ about it earlier this week, and it sounds like there was only one workin’ camera in the pawnshop. But whoever it was kept their head down and had a mask over their mouth. We’ll have to wait and see if there were any similarities with the jewelry shop, but considering the window got smashed in with a brick at the pawnshop, too…someone’s on a robbery rampage.”
“Well, that’s concernin’. I park my trailer in the parking lot a few blocks away. Not that I keep cash inside the register, but they could break in thinkin’ I do and trash it. Or take my expensive espresso machine.”
“Not sure how valuable that’d be in terms of the black market resale. Sounds like they’re hittin’ the stores with bigger markups.”
My mouth gapes open. “That machine cost nearly four grand!”
“Really? My coffee maker was on sale for thirty bucks.” He smirks around the rim of his mug.
I snort. “Totally the same.”
After Dad and I talk over coffee and cookies, he tells me Mom’s in bed watching her shows. I head down the hallway and peek inside to make sure she’s not asleep before walking in.
“Hey, Mama.”
“Magnolia, sweetheart.” Her face lights up when I sit on the bed next to her and wrap an arm around her for a hug.
“How’re you feelin’ today?” I ask, then sit back against the headboard, studying her over.
We share a lot of the same similarities, down to our dark hair and eyes. She looks much younger than her mid-sixties age, but she’s never been one to wear makeup, smoke, or stay out in the sun for hours.
“Oh, I’m okay.” She grins softly. “Woke up with a crick in my neck, so I’m gonna soak in the bath after supper.”
“Do you want me to massage it? I can try to rub out the knot.”
She turns back toward the TV. “No, you don’t have to. I’ll be okay.”
I nod, feeling awkward. Sometimes she’s in a chatty mood and other times we just sit in silence.
“Have you read any good books lately?” I ask when I notice the stack of hardcovers on the nightstand.
“My eyes aren’t so good anymore, so your dad’s been readin’ to me an hour each night before bed.”
“Aw, that’s cute. I’m sure Daddy loves doing that for you.”
“Sometimes I listen to the audiobooks,” she says, keeping her focus on the screen.
“I love listening to podcasts when I’m at home cleanin’ and stuff. Makes it go by faster. Maybe I’ll try an audiobook next time. Any recommendations?”
She lists off two book titles I’ve never heard of before.
“Oh, I’ll have to look them up. Might be better than listenin’ to the Wines and Crimes podcast before bed now that there’s a criminal on the loose.” I chuckle lightly although it’s not at all funny.
I stay for two more episodes of The Big Bang Theory before Dad pops in and brings Mom her afternoon snack. I suspect it has her meds in it, which is why he’s adamant she eats it.
After a few more minutes, I kiss Mom’s cheek goodbye and promise to visit her again soon.
Dad and I walk out of the bedroom and toward the kitchen where I left my bag.
“Forgot to tell ya. I ran into that ex-boyfriend of yours a few days ago at the gas station. He stopped to say hi, but I pretended I didn’t hear him and walked away. Don’t like that boy.”
I snort. “Join the club. He wants to get back together.”
His brow arches and concern flashes across his face.
“I’m not interested, don’t worry. Actually, I’m dating someone else now.”
He tilts his head. “Do I know him?”
“Technically, yes. But I don’t think you know much about him.”
“Well, out with it. Who is he?”
Nerves settle into my gut as I say the words aloud. “It’s one of Noah’s brothers, Tripp.”
He folds his arms over his beer belly. “That the goofy-lookin’ one who always looks like he’s tryna solve a math problem?”
“What?” I bark out a laugh. “Who is that?”
Probably Wilder.
He lifts his shoulder. “So which one is Tripp?”
Instead of trying to describe him, I find a photo of him on my phone from Noah’s wedding.
“Nice-lookin’ fella. He treatin’ ya right?”
“Better than any man could, Dad. Literally the sweetest guy I’ve ever met.”
He nods once. “Good. I’d like to meet him, then.”
“I’m sure you will. I haven’t told Noah since she’s on her honeymoon, but as soon as we’re public, we can plan a lunch.”
Once I grab my things and hug him, he walks me to the door. “Take care, sweetie. Come back soon, okay?”
I lean up and kiss his cheek. “I will, Dad. Love you.”
After I get to my car, I check my phone and see several unread messages.
TRIPP
Sydney’s in surgery. Landen’s a mess. Maybe you should try texting him because he won’t talk to me.
My heart drops at the thought of Landen losing her. I know how much he loves that horse, even if he acts too big and tough to have feelings.
MAGNOLIA
I’m leaving my parents’ right now and can come over. How are you doing?
TRIPP
Keeping busy.
MAGNOLIA
Where is he?
TRIPP
Sitting at our parents’ house with Mom.
MAGNOLIA
Okay, I’ll drive right over.
It’s a fifteen-minute drive out to the ranch, and once I park in front of the main house, I hop out and knock on the front door. The Hollises live in a Southern dream. A wraparound porch, flowers on the windowsills, and rustic vibes all through their home. I loved visiting every weekend and daydreaming of having a home like this when I got married and had kids.
“Hi, sweetie. Come in.” Dena opens the door for me, and I enter, then give her a hug.
“Hey. I heard Landen was here.”
“In the kitchen with Gramma Grace and Mallory.”
I follow her until I see a sad Landen chugging a beer.
“Want some sweet tea, dear?” Dena asks.
“Yes, please. Thank you.”
I set down my bag and then pull out the chair next to Landen. Instead of pressing him to talk, I curl my arm through his and lean my forehead on his bicep. There’s no denying we love giving each other shit and messing around, but he’s also one of my closest friends. Seeing him hurt makes me hurt, too.
“Any update?” I ask softly.
“Not yet,” Mallory answers. Her eyes are red as if she’s been crying.
I reach over and squeeze her hand.
She loves horses as much as Noah does, but she’s only lived here for a few years, so I don’t think she’s had to experience the pain of losing one. I remember they lost one back in high school and Noah cried for days.
The worst part now is Noah’s at an unplugged resort, so we can’t even get ahold of her to tell her what’s going on. I like the idea of her getting away for two weeks to enjoy spending time with her new husband without interruptions, but it sucks when there’s an emergency.
Gramma Grace brings over a pan of Brookie bars and a handful of plates. I grab two, put a bar on each, and then set one in front of Landen. Dena pours the drinks and we eat in silence.
When the front door creaks open, we sit up straighter in anticipation. Landen’s dad appears, and he’s wearing a frown.
“Any news?” Dena asks him.
“She went into shock. Her heart’s strugglin’ to keep up, but Dr. Weston cleared out the blockage and has her sedated for now.”
“Why can’t her heart keep up?” Mallory asks the same question I was wondering.
“Not sure, sweetheart. She may have a genetic heart condition. We’ll do some testing once she rests a few days.”
“What’s the recovery rate?” Landen’s harsh tone blurts out.
Garrett shrugs. “Too hard to know for sure. Shoulda been an easy procedure, but considering there were complications tells me there’s something else going on.”
“I don’t want her to suffer. When it’s time, we should…” Landen chokes on his words as if he’s holding back tears. “We just shouldn’t let her suffer, is all.”
Garrett circles the table and claps Landen’s shoulder. “We won’t.”
