She clambers out of bed, wincing when the springs squeal, and ducks down beside the desk. The box is still here, the lid covered in inches of dust. She maneuvers the box out of place and onto the bed. Her hands tremble as she pulls the lid off and stares down at the items left over from her past. The crinkled piece of paper on top brings back the echo of voices, the ghosts of recollections that she had forgotten over the years.
She swallows past the lump in her throat, setting aside the drawing, and reaches for the notebook they’d passed back and forth in the minutes before classes. It never mattered that they shared classes; they still wrote notes to each other. The school year ended with the notebook in her possession. His handwriting never got neater. She just got better at deciphering the scribbles. Running her finger over the ‘C’ on the last note, she blinks rapidly before slamming the notebook shut and tossing it back in the box.
“Retta?”
She clears her throat and hurriedly shoves the box back in place under the desk. “Comin’, Dad.”
Rett gives the box of memories one last, lingering look before she leaves it behind where it belongs. Her father stands at the stove by the time she enters the kitchen, and he glances over his shoulder at the sound of her shuffling footsteps. His face splits into a soft grin. The storm in her chest abates just enough for her to breathe again, to smile back. No matter how mixed up she feels on the inside, she can’t let her father know how affected she is by being home again.
She knows he knows how little she is looking forward to seeing Calum again. She’d be surprised if the whole world didn’t know. It doesn’t mean she has to broadcast it to everyone.
Breakfast is a quiet affair, but Matthew and Rett have never really needed to talk. She remembers the talk they had when she was eighteen. He had been so angry with her—not because of what she had done, but because of how he found out about it. She’d been so wrapped up in what she did, she didn’t think about anyone else but Calum. Their love. It was unfair to her parents, and she regrets that selfishness.
Matthew leaves for work once he’s washed his plate and fork, and Rett sits at the tiny table in the silence left behind. Columbus is never so quiet, not even in the winter when snow blankets the city. There, she can always hear traffic or the neighbors. Oak Creek brings the quiet of sleep. Sure, here she can hear kids running around outside, parents and grandparents calling after them, but it isn’t nearly as needling as back home. It’s a lazy sort of quiet. As much as she didn’t want to come back, she’s missed this place.
After rushing through dressing in a pair of jeans and a sleeveless blouse, Rett pins back her hair and grabs her phone from her old room, despite knowing it is no good at the moment. There is only one place in town with any real reception, and she doesn’t quite enjoy the prospect of climbing a tree at almost twenty-six years old. She feels better having her phone in hand, though. She hasn’t gone without one since she broke free from Oak Creek.
The silence of the morning, unfortunately, only lasts until she reaches the end of the walkway. Miss Maudie Adkins shrieks and descends upon Rett with fervor. It’s impressive, truly, how quickly the eighty-year-old woman can move but only when she has the newest gossip before anyone else in town. She throws liver-spotted arms around Rett’s neck, pulling the youngerwoman in tightly, and prattles on about how she’s missed Rett. She rambles without interruption, though Rett doesn’t pay attention to the words. It feels like home, the rush of words. She shakes her head inwardly.
The town isn’t home.
Miss Maudie finally releases Rett, and her deep brown eyes shone in the hot sunlight. “You’ve gotten too thin, Miss Loretta.”
Miss Loretta. Rett had always been just plain Loretta to the town, Rett to her friends. Now she is a Miss twice in as many days. She forces a smile and nods along. Miss Maudie doesn’t need a reply. She just pushes on with her questions: How long is Rett planning on being in town, is she home for good, did she enjoy life away from Oak Creek? Rett has no idea how to tell the truth. That she is only back for her own selfish gain. Then she will be back in Columbus, and this visit will just be a horrible memory.
Rett manages to extricate herself from the conversation a few minutes later and walks away, hoping she hasn’t offended the old woman. The air smells of the rain that came in the night, damp earth, and thick flower bushes in Mrs. Betty Lowe’s front yard. Her shoes sink slightly in the soil, and she breathes in the scent of town. The freshness that comes with a small town in the middle of nowhere. No odors of the big city, the car exhaust and factories spewing smoke into the air.
Her trek along the streets is interrupted dozens of times by old ladies and old friends—the ones that stayed behind. Kellie Marie Watson and Jacob Fletcher had a baby when they were nineteen and got married three months after Darrel was born. Another kid came after that, less than two years later. All of her dreams were now gone in motherhood. Rett wonders if her friend feels stuck. They used to talk about leaving Oak Creek together. They would run off to college and forge their own paths in life. Now Kellie Marie is a mama. Maybe she longs for somethingdifferent, or maybe she’s happy with her lot in life. Rett will never know.
As she watches Kellie Marie try to corral her sons, Rett remembers all those times they were careless and wild. She recalls every party and going to church every Sunday hungover from the night before. Her breath shakes as she realizes just how much has actually changed. The town might look the same, feel the same, but the people are different. Older. She isn’t the only one who made different decisions in life. She just made hers in another city half a day away.
Kellie Marie sighs and shuffles away with Darrel and David still fighting and running free down the street. Her shoulder slump even more while she calls after them. Rett runs her hand through her dark hair and blows out a breath. She shouldn’t be asking herself when her friend gave up—there’s no reason to believe Kellie Marie has. Maybe her dreams changed between high school and now.
“Well, if it ain’t little Loretta,” a voice calls from behind her.
Rett turns to see Georgie Stone standing in the doorway to her corner store. Rett’s mouth grows dry at the sight of her familiar face. More lines have embedded themselves in the older woman’s skin, and her silver-blonde hair has a bit more silver than blonde. But it’s in her customary braid, and she looks just as steadfast as she always had before. Chocolate brown eyes—so similar to her nephew’s—narrow as the sun beats down on the world.
“Hey, Miss Georgie.”
“Well, c’mon over here. Lemme get a good look at ya.”
Rett bites back a groan. She’s always loved Georgie. A no-nonsense woman, she’s been a surrogate aunt to the entire neighborhood’s children. Most of the older generation has acted in some capacity as stand-in relatives, but Georgie took to it likea duck to water. She kept everyone out of trouble, never let a thing slip by.
But right now, she is the second to last person Rett wants to see. The only person taking first place is Calum, and even then, there isn’t much of a gap between. However, Rett can’t ignore Georgie, not when she accepted what the two teens did without batting an eyelash.
Her rough hands cradle Rett’s cheeks, and they stare at each other. After a moment, Georgie smiles and runs her thumbs along Rett’s cheekbones beneath her eyes. “It’s really good to see you, sweetie. It’s been a while.”
“Yeah, it has.” Rett hates how easily she’s slipped back into the drawl she worked so hard to rid herself of. “How you been?”
Georgie shakes her head with another grin playing on her lips. “I doubt you came here to hear ’bout my troubles. I take it you’re looking for Calum.”
“Just lookin’ around town right now.”
“Well, whenever you wanna catch him, he’ll be at Mitchell’s until six or so.” Georgie releases Rett, pushing a stray lock of dark auburn hair behind Rett’s ear. “You look real good.”
“I’m gettin’ married,” Rett blurts out. Her stomach twists at the abrupt words, at her pleading tone.
“I know.”
