She knew about Charity because Pixie and Charity were best friends. And she knew about my dad because his transgressions had been breaking news around town for the past few months. But she didn’t speak a word about either.

We stayed shoulder-to-shoulder for several silent minutes. Just us and the headlights of her truck.

“It’s a beautiful night,” she said after a while, staring up at the sky. “The stars are lovely.”

I stared up at the darkness and all I saw were the things I had lost. My mom. Marcella. Charity. “I don’t see them.”

She slowly nodded. “You will.”

We stayed in that road for who knows how long before I finally pulled myself up with a groan, brushing off the dust and cursing the fog in my head.

“Come on,” she said, helping me to my feet. “It looks like you need a ride home.”

I snorted. In my head, I said, What home? But aloud I think it came out as, “Whamo,” as I stumbled into her.

“Okay.” She caught me and tossed one of my arms over her shoulder so she could guide me to her truck. “I think I have just the place for you to sober up.”

I don’t remember much after that. The next morning I woke up in the clean-smelling sheets of one of Willow Inn’s guest room beds, still wearing my dirty clothes from the night before. I smelled like hell. I looked like hell. But for the first time in several weeks, I didn’t feel like hell.

Later that day, Ellen offered me a job as her stock boy so she wouldn’t have to drive back and forth from Copper Springs to Willow Inn as often. At first, I declined. But she got pretty demanding and, honestly, I needed the money. She offered me free room and board as well, but my prideful ass wasn’t ready to accept total defeat in my own independence yet. But I took the job. It was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. One of the few.

35 Kayla

After my little breakdown in the lavender field, Ellen told me not to worry about stepping in as a waitress for the inn today, but I insisted because I knew serving food would help take my mind off everything. And I was right.

After serving the lunch rush for a few hours, I feel much better as I enter the kitchen.

“So who’s Pixie?” I ask, pointing to the name written on an apron on the wall.

“She’s Ellen’s niece,” Mable says. “Her real name is Sarah, but she also goes by Pixie. She worked with me all summer but she moved out yesterday because she’s starting college in a few weeks.”

“Oh yeah,” I say, nodding as I think back to the Fourth of July party on the lake earlier this month. “I think I met her a few weeks ago. What is she studying?”

“Art.” Mable smiles. “What about you?”

“I was hoping to go to nursing school, but things changed and I came out here to take care of some family business.”

Her face softens. “Ellen told me about your father. I’m so sorry, sweetie.”

I swallow the lump in my throat and nod. “Thank you.”

Her eyes fill with sympathy. “I’m so glad you have Daren to help you get through everything.”

I inhale slowly, and quietly say, “Me too.”

Even though he’s only been in my life for three days, Daren really has helped me get through things. But Mable was wrong. I don’t have him. At least not anymore.

And… the tears are back. Dammit.

Ellen enters the kitchen and I quickly get my emotions under control.

“Hey, so I’ve been thinking about how you said you have no plans for, like, ever,” Ellen says. “And Mable’s been singing your praises all day—”

“I have.” Mable smiles.

“And since I need a part-time waitress,” Ellen continues, “I thought maybe we could help each other out. You could work here at the inn—just until you figure out what you want to do next, of course—and since I have a resident room opening up you live here for free at the same time.”

My mouth falls open. “Are you being serious?”

She nods. “I need the help.”

I blink a few times, not sure what to say—or think. Having a new job in a new state away from all my crap back in Chicago would be wonderful. But having a place to live rent-free would be… well, incredible! And it’s not just any place. It’s a cute little inn, tucked away in a lavender field, free of rodents and cockroaches. And with the money I saved on rent, I would be able to go to college and pursue a career in nursing.

I stare at Ellen, speechless.

“You don’t have to answer me right now,” she says casually with a wave of her hand. “Think it over and let me know if you have any questions. And Mable?” Mable looks up from a pie dish. “That apple cobbler smells divine. I love you the most, you know that right?”

Mable snorts. “You only love me the most when I have cobbler in my hands.”

“And your point is…?”

Mable smiles. “I will save some for you, as always.”

“See?” Ellen smiles broadly. “Total love.” She turns and heads out of the kitchen. As I watch her walk away, my mind races with all the possibilities working at Willow Inn would give me. I could live in Arizona and start fresh. And I would be so close to Copper Springs…

I’m not sure if that thrills me or stresses me out.

Daren swings into the kitchen from the dining room with a rack of glassware in his hands. Our eyes meet and he stops walking. He opens his mouth, but doesn’t say anything.

What do I want him to say? Sorry? I know he’s sorry. If anyone should be apologizing for being a giant brat it should be me. But when I try to speak, nothing comes out.

Mable makes herself scarce, coming up with some excuse about piecrusts, leaving Daren and I alone.

“Hey,” he says, breaking our silence.

“Hey,” I say back.

He clears his throat. “Ellen told me about the e-mails from your mom… and everything.” His eyes fill with sympathy, searching my face with his lips parted like he wants to say something. But instead, he slowly wraps his arms around me and pulls me against his chest. I hesitate only a moment before letting myself fall into his embrace with my cheek against his shoulder.

It’s just a hug. But the gesture is so sincere I could almost cry. Here in Daren’s arms, I feel significant. Safe. Visible.

Loved.

He exhales slowly and rests his cheek on my head, like he has no intention of releasing me anytime soon. I haven’t felt this cared for since the last time I saw my dad.

It was the summer I was fifteen and he took me pretend fishing. I thought it was dumb at the time, because I was too old to go pretend fishing, but I played along because he seemed so excited about it. We sat by the river and talked about my mom that day. My parents had been divorced for nearly a decade at that point, but I’d never asked him about it.

He told me that he loved her very much, and missed her every day, but she had made a decision to be without him and he wanted to respect that. He seemed heartbroken when he spoke so I asked him if he regretted marrying her.

He smiled and said that if he’d never married my mother he would’ve never had me, and I was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He told me that being my father was the highest honor he could imagine and he’d go through heartbreak a thousand times over if it meant having me.

I bite my lip. That was the last real conversation I ever had with my father. He tried to call a few times after mom died, but I was too grief-ridden and heartbroken to return his calls. Now I’ll never hear his voice again.

A single tear rolls down my dirty cheek and lands on Daren’s shirt. I swallow and pull myself together, lifting my head with a sniffle. “I was wrong about my dad. He didn’t abandon me. He didn’t stop loving me.” My voice cracks. “I was wrong.”

He looks at me sympathetically. “You were lied to.”

I nod, scoffing as I stare at the floor. “You know the worst part?” I look back up at him. “I can’t fix it. I can’t apologize to my dad or yell at my mom. I’m all alone. I have no family. I’m just completely alone.”