Still The One - Carrie Elks Page 0,11

Van. “What are you wearing?” she asked, looking her up and down.

“I’m going for a run.” Van glanced down at the tight running shorts and sports bra she’d pulled on this morning. “When I get back we can work on this list I’ve been making. Starting with going through all the bills.”

“I’m sick.” Her mom touched her brow, wincing as though in pain. “Can’t the bills wait until tomorrow?”

“Maybe if you drank a little less, you wouldn’t be so sick,” Van pointed out.

“I don’t drink a lot.”

Van lifted a brow. “Sure you don’t.” The empty vodka bottle in the trashcan said differently.

Kim slumped at the table, lifting her mug to her lips. “I can’t believe you’re into running. It sounds like torture.”

Van shrugged. “I like it. It’s a good way to start the day.” She grabbed her earbuds and pressed her smartwatch to sync up. “I’ll be back in an hour or so. Maybe you could take a shower while I’m gone?”

“Maybe.”

Van took a deep breath and headed for the door, cueing up the playlist on her watch as she ran down the steps toward the sidewalk.

She’d started running years ago. It had felt weird at first, because she’d never been into sports at school, not like Tanner and the rest of his brothers. They’d teased her about her lack of athletic prowess. Not in a mean way – they were never mean. Well, not until the day Tanner had hurt her like nothing else. No, they’d asked her where the hell she put all the food she ate when she was constantly inventing excuses for getting out of gym class.

She couldn’t remember who’d first suggested she try running as a way to work through her anger. Maybe it was Craig. He always loved sports. Whoever it was, she’d tried it because she needed something to get her head straight, and nobody had been more surprised than Van when it actually worked.

Starting off easy, she jogged down the sidewalk toward the town square, doing a full circle before heading west on Main Road, out of town. As the space between houses increased, and the verdant green of the cornfields appeared in the distance, she felt her breath begin to shallow as her lungs worked overtime.

It always took a good two or three miles for her to get into her stride. Only when she’d reached an unconscious rhythm could her brain push out all the worries and anxieties and leave pure, blissful nothingness in their wake. She panted as the sidewalk ended and dusty country roads began, her skin heating up beneath the early morning sun.

This was where the road bent to the left. On one side the corn fields continued – green now, but in a month or two they’d begin to turn golden. On the other was a field, full of overgrown grass and a huge wooden screen whose white paint had long since peeled away. The box office was still there – a wooden cabin where she’d sat as a teenager and sold tickets to cars as they lined up for whatever movie the drive-in was showing that week. That job had been her ticket out of town.

Or so she’d thought at the time.

The Chaplin Drive-In Movie Theater had closed eight years ago, right after her mom and Craig got married. It had felt like the end of an era, even though Van wasn’t working there any more. Her heart clenched to see it so neglected.

For years it had been a huge part of Hartson’s Creek life. It had never shown the latest and best movies – in fact the owner, Mr. Chaplin, had a preference for showing movies that were at least ten years old. They kept costs down that way, and nobody really seemed to mind. Back in those days, before Netflix and other services were king and everybody could stream, it was somewhere to go and watch an old favorite.

One of her best memories were the meetings they’d have where they would talk through the showings for the next few weeks. He’d let the kids who worked there make suggestions. The whackier the better.

They were good times. There had been a lot of those, growing up. A lot of them in this very field.

Leaning on the old sign that used to proclaim the show times, she gulped in a breath, ignoring the burning of her calf muscles. To her right, she sensed some movement. Another runner? It was a strange enough occurance to make her