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I didn’t know what was going on between us, but I liked it. I liked it a lot.
10
HARLAN
I staredup at the moonlight casting a large shadow across the ceiling and sighed. A quick glance over at the clock revealed only five minutes had passed since the last time I’d checked it, which was at two a.m. I had to be up in just a few hours. Even if I fell asleep this second, I’d only consider it a nap, not a night’s sleep.
The problem was that I was tired—or at least my body was. Exhausted, truly. But my head was busier than Grand Central Station, and it had only one destination.
Daphne Moore.
I hadn’t even known she’d existed twenty-four hours ago, and now she consumed my every thought. I’d heard of love at first sight, even lust at first sight, but was obsession at first sight a thing? If it was, that’s exactly what I was suffering from.
My preoccupation with her wasn’t solely based on her beauty, although that was part of it. But it was more than just her angelic face, gold spun hair, slender frame with curves that made me break out in a flop sweat, and large blue eyes that I could easily drown in. It was the sweet, melodic rhythm of her voice.It was her aura, her presence, the way she held herself with class and grace.
I’d been mesmerized seeing Daphne up on that stage, alongside Miss Rhonda, receiving the remembrance plaque from Mayor Baldwin. Beguiled. Transfixed. She was more than just a pretty face. I was drawn to her in a way I’d never experienced before. If I believed in magic and spells, I’d swear that I was under one. It felt totally out of my control.
Tonight, after our dance was cut short and I’d had to fulfill my auction obligations, I’d searched for Daphne. After asking at least twenty people if they’d seen her, Nadia explained that Miss Rhonda hadn’t been feeling well and they’d gone home. Once I heard that, I was ready to go myself.
I found Grandad, and without any arm twisting, we left. When I pulled up to the farm, I looked next door and was disappointed to see that there wasn’t even a single light on at the Moore’s. I thought about going over and knocking, but since that’s as far as I got and had no idea what I would say if, god forbid, I woke Miss Rhonda up instead of Daphne, I decided to forgo my not-so-brilliant plan.
That was four hours ago, and now I was kicking myself for not doing it. Showing up at ten p.m. was late, but still in the realm of social acceptability. If I went over now, in the middle of the night, I would look like a crazy person.
I tried not to live with regrets, but that’s exactly what I was feeling.
After fifteen more minutes of staring up at the ceiling, I gave up on sleep entirely. If I was going to be awake, I might as well be productive. I decided to go downstairs and catch up on some paperwork. I needed to find an extra ten grand or so to fix the foundation, and I had no clue where I was going to get it from. If that problem didn’t take my mind off Daphne Moore, I had no fucking clue what would.
Since Meemaw got sick and passed, I’d been trying to make heads or tails of the finances. Unfortunately, Grandad was no help. Meemaw had been in charge of all things money-related. Grandad was the muscle, and she was the brains. Unfortunately, as they got older, both of their roles had suffered, and I was left trying to pick up the pieces in both categories.
The house was falling apart, and we were behind on our property tax. Not only that, but Meemaw had taken out a high-interest loan after my dad passed away nearly twenty years ago to try and help them get on their feet, and it was still not paid off. In fact, the payments I was making didn’t even go to the principal.
There were a lot of times in my life that I missed my dad, like the day I got my driver’s license, prom, high school graduation, college graduation, getting drafted to the majors, my twenty-first birthday and first legal drink, and my first game in the big leagues. All of those milestones were tainted by the fact that he wasn’t there.
My mom wasn’t either. But the strange thing was, I never missed her as much as I missed him. A therapist, Meemaw had insisted I visit after Dad died, explained it was natural for me to miss my dad more since I didn’t have very many memories of my mom. Still, I felt guilty that it was only ever him that I missed.
Right after he died, he used to show up in my dreams. At the time, I’d been convinced that it was really him, and he was visiting me, talking to me, and telling me it was going to be okay because the dreams felt so real, so vivid. He would talk to me about the future and tell me that no matter what, he would always be with me. But then, that stopped around the age of sixteen.
Now, as an adult, I understood that those dreams had just subconsciously been my way of dealing with the trauma of losing my dad. But, at the time, I really thought it was him coming tosee me. It was so real, like he was actually there in front of me, but I’d never told anyone about them. I guess, looking back, I’d been scared that people would think I was crazy.
Even though tonight hadn’t been any sort of milestone in my life, I missed him like I had in those moments. I wished that he was around so he could have met Daphne. I wished I could ask him what in the hell I should do about the way I was feeling about her.
Or maybe I was just projecting that onto Daphne because it was easier to focus on than what was really going on. Maybe the reason I was missing him so much and wished he was around was because the farm, Grandad, and carrying on the Mitchell legacy were just getting to be too much for me.
“I wish you could tell me what to do,” I said to my dad under my breath as I pushed up to a sitting position, totally forgetting that Dini had been sound asleep on my chest.
She started to slide down my torso when my hand wrapped around her, cradling her tiny form, which was curled up in a ball. Thankfully, I didn’t disturb the tiny sleeping beauty who didn’t even stir. Gently, I laid her down on my pillow, which was her preferred sleeping area, coming in second to my chest.
As I stood, I glanced to my left, and something caught my eye. There was a light on in the attic of the Moore farmhouse. I took two steps and squinted as I peered out my window and saw that there was a shadowy silhouette that looked like she was typing on a computer. It had to be Daphne. In all the years I’d lived next door to the Moore’s, which was my entire life, I couldn’t remember Miss Rhonda ever going up to the attic.
My chest felt like wild horses were galloping across it as my heart pounded heavily.
Daphne was awake. I was awake. It had to be a sign. A sudden urge to speak to her overwhelmed me. I grabbed my cell phone but then remembered I didn’t have her phone number. Ihad Miss Rhonda’s landline, but if I called, there was a very good chance I’d wake her up.
Not letting those roadblocks slow me down, I pulled on sweats and a zip-up hoodie before shoving my feet into tennis shoes. Then, I took the stairs two at a time. Adrenaline raced through me as I walked out the back screen door, careful to hold it so that it didn’t slam.
As I crossed the field, I told myself this was crazy. I told myself to turn around and go back to my house. I told myself that I didn’t even know this woman, and showing up in the middle of the night because I’d seen her in the window was dangerously close to stalker behavior.
Those were the thoughts in my head, but apparently they weren’t being communicated to the rest of my body because my feet kept moving in a forward motion, and before I knew it, I was standing below the attic window.
