Page 3 of Autumn on My Mind

“I’ll get there as soon as I can,” he finally says with a sigh. “But it’s going to be a bit. I have to restock this delivery and get it out of the way. Someone already tripped over one of these boxes.”

“Move the boxes to the back,” I say. “Restock later. I’ll help. I will!” I add when he starts to protest. “I totally will. So get your bum over here now. Now!”

And although he grumbles, it’s not an outright refusal I hear before he hangs up.

Good.

I set my phone down on the bar top and glance around the bar once more. The warm wood is cozy and familiar, and although there aren’t a ton of windows, the late afternoon glow of crisp September light streams in enough to banish the darkness. It’s a soothing atmosphere, overall, and I wish some of that peacefulness would rub off on me so that I could stop worrying so much.

Unfortunately, my mother’s romantic exploits are not the only thing on my mind. While she’s making new connections, I’m trying to avoid old ones.

Because I am now living in the same town as my ex.

And at some point, I will run into him.

It’s this, more than anything, that’s driving me slowly crazy. I can handle negligees and my mother’s faint snoring. I can even handle the memories of my dad that crop up everywhere I go.

But I swear every time I hear a door open, or every time I pass a car on Main, I find myself startling—waiting for the inevitable moment when I make eye contact with Dominic Harper. It’s going to happen.

Right? I think it’s unavoidable. I’m going to be here for six months. And while I’m not a strategist or a mathematician, the odds of hiding from him feel smallish to none-ish.

My past will come knocking, as pasts often do, and I will have to answer that door. I don’t know how I’ll handle it. I have a plan, of course, a mature one that involves closure and overdue apologies so that I can move the heck on.

But how I’ll actually respond when we come face to face is another matter. Will I be able to smile? Will I be tempted to ignore him? It’s been so long.

Later I’ll go over my detailed notes for dealing gracefully with my ex, notes that involve practicing reactions in front of the mirror and memorizing scripts. Right now I’m trying not to think about it.

I rally my inner pep squad again, grasping for the enthusiasm I need. People soldier through situations like this all the time! I can do the same. Everything will be okay!

Was Dominic my first love, my forever-isn’t-long-enough person?

Yes!

Did I ugly cry for a full year when we broke up?

Sure did!

And does remembering him still make me want to scream into a pillow?

You betcha!

But until my lease starts, I’ll focus on myself and my family. I can do that. I’ll work my online job and save some money, try to keep my mother out of trouble, and help Nathan at the hardware store that once belonged to our dad. I might be stressed, but I’m not alone.

Ever, in fact. I will not be alone ever over the next six months, due to the roommate situation. If I had somewhere else to go, I’d be there in a heartbeat. The house I grew up in somehow feels small now, even though it was perfect when my dad was alive. We all fit comfortably then.

Pictures of the four of us are still on the walls. The wood mantel over the fireplace is still scratched where Nate threw his boomerang one Christmas morning. But there are new tan lines on my mother’s fingers, ghosts of the husbands that have come and gone since my dad died, and they take up space in a way I can’t describe. Like those men, those strangers, are waiting in the next room.

We’ve changed, my mother and my brother and me, and I’m not sure if it’s good, or bad, or just the way things are.

The jingle of a bell, footsteps, and then the scrape of a stool next to me pulls me from my thoughts, but I don’t turn to look at the newcomer. No one needs to see me fighting off tears. When a faint hint of crisp cologne finds me, though, accompanied by the heat of someone leaning closer, I sigh.

“I’m not interested, but thank you,” I say.

A soft chuckle answers me. “You’ve deeply misread this situation.”

My entire body freezes. More than just my body—the bar around me, the country music above, my thoughts. Everything except my heart and the adrenaline that starts shooting through my veins.

After that eternal frozen moment, things happen in slow motion.