Nash Brothers Box Set - Carrie Aarons Page 0,293

and I’ll still be able to grab drinks with the girls on Friday night.

For so long, I allowed this idea of my mother to fill my soul with tension and dread. Would I get a phone that she overdosed? Would she show up at my job asking for money? Would my life suffer if I cut her out completely … because after all, she’s the only blood relative I know of. It seemed like a harsh mistake to end our relationship, because I was the child and love from my mother was something that was supposed to be a no brainer. It was simply supposed to exist.

But it didn’t have to be like that. The families we were born into didn’t have to be that source of love for us. We could find it in other ways, like the friendship I had with Presley. Recognizing that some bonds were toxic … it was a relief.

That’s what I had just done, the minute I’d stopped making it possible for her to contact me.

I rub a fist into my chest and sit down on the edge of the bed, thinking there should be some monumental swell of emotions in me. And maybe relief is there, but sadness and hurt … I think they left a long time ago where my mother is concerned.

My stomach grumbles, and I have to laugh, because if this isn’t my body’s way of telling me that life goes on, I don’t know what is.

Realizing I can’t wait another hour for food, I throw on the outfit I’d already picked for when Fletcher arrives and make my way through the backyard and into Presley’s kitchen. I find Hattie sitting at the kitchen counter.

“Hey,” I say warmly, giving her a side hug before moving to explore the pantry.

“Hiya,” she responds, popping a piece of watermelon in her mouth. “The course going well?”

It’s what she asks me every time I see her. I’m not sure if she really just wants to know that, but I suspect the question is deeper. Part of me suspects Hattie wants me to plant permanent roots in Fawn Hill, and that’s just her way of planting the seed in my head.

She isn’t the only one who’s tried to broach the subject. Presley slips it into conversation now and then, Lily told me the other day that she thinks it would be so sweet if I moved to town, and then there was the whole awkward encounter with Fletcher at his kitchen table.

The truth is … I don’t see myself staying in this small town for the rest of my life. Sure, I like it well enough, and this break was long overdue. But I’m a traveler; wanderlust has infected me like a virus, and the only cure is to take off for the next destination. I like having a home base to come back to, and maybe Fawn Hill could be that, but I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t spend a month in Vienna and the next in Bermuda.

Ducking into the fridge, I grab a snack pack of pretzels and cream cheese. Keaton buys them for himself, but I’ve become addicted, and subsequently stolen his supply over the last month.

Opening it and popping the first dunked pretzel in my mouth, I nod. “The kids are really getting the hang of it. I should have thanked you a while ago, I’m so—”

“Don’t you go apologizing now. There is no need. I just brought two things together that we’re looking for each other. That’s thanks enough for me. It suits you, teaching. You should think about doing it long term.”

And there it is, that little suggestion again. I’m not one for running at the first sign of commitment, that was never my problem. No, Presley and I used to joke that she ran to avoid getting hurt by anyone, and I ran only after I’d been hurt and overstayed my welcome. Was that what I was doing here?

“What? Do I have ‘I’m in my thirties and still don’t know where my life is going’ stamped on my forehead?” I joke, only half meaning it.

Hattie raises her eyebrows at me. “I’m not the one who said it. But if you think about it, you do know where you’re going. You know a lot more about yourself than most. You’re just scared to implement the decisions you know those preferences call for.”

“Like what?” I ask, genuinely curious now.

“You know you love computers, but you’re tired of your job.