Page 48 of Yours Truly, Fall

“Bye, dear!”

We step outside into the midday sunshine and gallop down the steps. Autumn drops her bag on the bottom step and says, “It’s out here.”

The water is still choppy, but the breeze blowing through keeps the temperature comfortable. Summer might be over, but we’re not fully committed to fall just yet. That could go for the woman as well. Though I’m working on it. I grin like a fool crossing the lawn as we head for the trees. “Do you know how valuable this property is now that the developers have started snapping up land all along the coastline?”

“Yes, and we’re never selling.”

The sun shines off her hair, and the breeze exposes the constellation of freckles across her neck again. I hadn’t realized until now that she’s not dressed for work. “No scrubs?” A pale-pink skirt hits mid-thigh, revealing a little color from summer, but I doubt she spends her days tanning like some of the women do at the docks. She’s trim and has some muscular definition, but is not a gym rat by any means. The tank top fits like a glove, showing off her great figure. Perky tits that aren’t too much for her frame and just enough for my hand, slender waist highlighted by white stripes of fabric going down the sides.

Tucking her hair behind her ear, she smiles up at me. “What do you keep looking at?” Her cheeks are a perfect match to her outfit.

“You.”

She stops, dropping her mouth open, and stares at me. “You can’t just say ‘you,’ Brandon.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s just . . .” She looks out at the water as if she needs time for a better comeback. The pursing of her lips makes me think she didn’t think of one. “You have an entire ocean over there fighting for your attention, and you’re choosing to stare at me. How am I supposed to react to that?”

With a shrug, I pop a frown before straightening my mouth again. “I don’t know why you’re asking me. Seems you already figured out how you’re going to react.”

Tugging her lips to one side, she stares at my chest for several seconds before lifting her gaze again. “I don’t even know if we’re friends again, and here you are saying things that have my pulse beating faster.” She starts walking toward the trees but keeps her arms flailing around to help her speak. “It’s so nice, but I don’t know if that’s what friends say to each other, or if that’s more of something said to someone you date. Or want to date. It’s all so confusing. I don’t know what to think about you.” She glances to her side but does a double take and turns back to find me where she left me standing.

And all I can do is stare at her with the word “again” making patterns in my brain as if memories were once attached to it. “Why are you still standing there?”

Coming back, she stops in front of me. Curiosity wrangles her expression as she asks, “What? What is it?”

“You said you don’t know if we’re friends again. That tells me we were once but aren’t anymore.”

“I said I don’t know if we are because we’ve been friendly this week.”

“No. You said again. Again insinuates we weren’t, but are now. Again.”

The grass is trimmed short, but her sneakers still sink into it. She looks down like it’s the most fascinating thing in the world. Her head finally pops back up. “It was a slip of the tongue. That’s all. We don’t have to read that much into it.” She walks away when another breeze blows in, returning to her original path. “I really wanted to show you that place I mentioned.”

I start walking, but a sinking feeling in my gut weighs down each step I take. We’ve circled the topic of us several times now, and we—no, I get no closer to getting answers than when I was laid up in the hospital not knowing who she was at all.

As much as she wants me to let this go, I don’t think I can any longer. I follow her into the woods and cut through the trees as she heads for a clearing up ahead. The trees become scarce as we break through to a little field of flowers and tall grasses.

It’s just as she described.

Autumn walks to the edge that heads toward the water and says, “This is where we used to sit. We’d make halos of daisies and wear them on our heads as we ate lunch and daydreamed together.”

I come to stand a few feet away. The woods protect the small field like each tree is standing guard. “I can see why it was so special.”

“It still is.” Nodding toward the far side, she says, “The honeybees live in a field up there.” When she looks out to the near distance, not pointing, I still follow her gaze. “My parents are buried over there.”

I’m not a father, though I’d like to be one day. I can’t imagine what these four girls went through losing their parents. She doesn’t shed any tears, but my heart aches knowing they must have cried oceans in the years since.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I know you’ve heard that probably too many times, but I’m sorry about your parents.”

Hiking through the flowers, she comes back to me with a grin that only sincerity can create. “I didn’t bring you here to make you sad. I brought you here to share a part of what makes me happy.” She spins with enough room to hold her arms out, tilting her head back and closing her eyes to soak in the sunshine. When she slows, she lowers her arms and says, “Isn’t it the most beautiful?”

I release a long breath, knowing I can’t push her on something she clearly doesn’t want to talk about while we’re here. I won’t be the one to ruin her favorite place. And looking at her now, fuck, anytime I look at her, I only see her beautiful heart shining through. So if she’s not telling me something, it’s probably for the best. “The most beautiful.”

She nods, pleased that I agreed. “I’m glad you like it.”

“The field’s not bad either.”