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“I’m confident he has to be feeling the same way. I don’t know all the details, but from what Caleb has shared with me, it sounds like Johanna has done a number on him. I’m not saying he’s excused for his actions, but I think both of you have significant hurdles to overcome. And that’s normal. That’s life.”
I hear the heartbreak and sympathy in her words. I feel her concern in the way she lets me lean on her in my moment of weakness, but I can’t console myself. I’m positive I’ve lost my chance with someone great. Still, I wipe my tears away. I’ve learned when to let the tears flow and when to lift my chin and face forward again. I’ve got things going for me again even if I’ve ruined a future with Dalton. I’ve got a class to teach, a new home to break in.
I’ve got to make the best of it.
No matter how much it might hurt.
Chapter 32
Aubrey
I’m grateful the apartment is furnished, but I quickly realized furnished does not mean packed with all essentials. While I have a bed, couch, chairs, table, and other large items that a home needs for structure and organization, I lack the linens for the bed, the pillows for the couch, and items of a personal matter like the food I prefer and the clothes I’ll need for teaching again. I have a decent bit of savings to play with since I didn’t spend anything while staying with Marian. I can use that money to finally prepare my wardrobe, both to get warmer clothes for the upcoming Colorado winter and for teaching. I left a lot of my summery clothes in LA.
I tried to protest when Marian gave me a paycheck. Sure, I finished odds and ends while I was at the bed-and-breakfast, but I felt like a guest, not an employee. It’s not so easy to argue with Marian and win, though, and I feel like I need to take notes for future reference. That sweet and generous woman listed every single task I did and the estimated time invested.
It looks like I wasn’t a guest, but working here and there, and I appreciate the paycheck she presented me on my official moving day. It turns into a shopping day more than moving. For the better part of the morning, Lauren and Marian come shopping with me, talking me out of my frugal nature. Lauren “treats” me to the bedsheets that aren’t on clearance, and Marian insists the painting of an abstract flower is too pretty to pass up even though it has no functional purpose.
“Art is always functional,” she explains sagely even though I think she’s full of shit and do my best not to giggle. “It makes the brain function.”
Lauren cracks up too.
“Oh, hush, you two.” Marian giggles. “I just want to get you something nice to look at in your bedroom.”
I’d rather look at the masterpiece of a naked Dalton in my bedroom.
“A housewarming gift,” she adds.
“Then maybe you can buy me groceries instead.” I grin like an imp.
She laughs. “Another day. More guests are checking in. While I trust Caleb to handle it, I enjoy meeting them.”
“I’ll take you up on that,” I tell her.
After she and Lauren head back up Meadow Lane to the bed-and-breakfast, I set out to the nearest grocery store and fill a small cart with the essentials. I’m not a fancy cook, but I do know how to prepare meals. Before I turn to find the condiments, canned food, and most important, peanut butter, I bump into someone who vaguely looks familiar.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” I step back and brush my hair from my eyes. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”
“Me neither,” he confesses with a slight chuckle of embarrassment. It’s almost charming, but when he gazes at me for a full second, he snaps his fingers. “I thought you looked familiar.”
I smile. “I was thinking the same thing.”
“I teach fifth grade at the school. I think I saw you leaving your interview.” He nods, like he’s recalling it all. “And if I heard correctly, you’ll be joining us next week when the school year starts.”
“Yep! Third grade, look out.”
“You’ve been staying up on the mountain, right? My brother, Sawyer, does construction with Hayes. He told me he had dinner with you and your friend there.”
Aha. That’s why he stood out. “Yes! You two really look alike.”
He laughs softly. “We get that a lot. The dimples, the beard.”
I grin. “You sure you’re not twins?” They’re like mirror images.
“Nope. We get that a lot as well, but no.” He holds his hand out. “I’m Kevin.”
I shake his hand. “Aubrey. Aubrey Hart.”
“Nice to meet you,” he replies, then glances in my cart. “You don’t have any perishables in there, do you?”
