It only made sense to sign the papers and rush to her ten a.m. class.
Only nine months after she said ‘I do’, she said ‘I no longer do’. She hates that Calum got hurt in the process, but it was what was best. All he needs to do is accept that. He’ll understand once he no longer denies it.
The worst part is her parents had to deal with the gossip. Everyone talked about the marriage when it first happened, and Rett knows, better than she knows herself, that they all talked about the divorce. The one that was meant to happen six years ago, anyway.
But Calum threw a wrench in those plans, just like he is with her current plans.
Rett figures he had been the smarter of the two back then. He’d hesitated. He’d questioned. She was the one who said theyneeded to do it. She never thought it would be one of her more horrible decisions. She’d always been careful, considering possibilities, but Calum had changed that. He made her different.
He made her reckless.
But now, Austin Cobb, the man she’d fallen in love with five years ago, the man who asked seven months ago for her hand… He is who Rett needs. He keeps her on Earth, encourages her to follow dreams that were attainable. He loves her in his own careful way, and she loves him back. He’s good for her in ways Calum never was.
Rett’s stomach roils at the thought of her fiancé. She hasn’t spoken to him since before she left Columbus. He is on a business trip, thinking this is just a visit back home so she can show off the ring and plan the wedding with her mama. He doesn’t know the real reason she came back to Oak Creek, and she wants to keep it that way.
Lying to him shouldn’t be so easy. Keeping the secret isn’t a good sign of trust—of love—but she can’t let him know she was married before. Not this late into the relationship. He would never forgive her. It is a secret she plans to take to her grave.
Just as soon as Calum signs the papers.
Hehasto sign the papers.
She only has three months until the wedding. She can’t wait any longer for Cal to do the right thing.
Dinner is quiet, and so is the clean-up that comes after. A thick weight settles over the kitchen as mother and daughter work together to wash each dish and put them away. Despite Eliza’s happiness that she is back, Rett knows it doesn’t drown out the disappointment. She’s spent too much time away, and now here she is engaged to a man her parents had never met in person.
Rett glances over at her mother. Light brown hair curls over narrow shoulders, draping around Eliza’s throat, and her blue eyes narrow as she catches Rett’s eye.
“I know your daddy and I taught you better than to stare at people, Loretta Jean.”
“Wasn’t starin’, Mama. Just lookin’.”
“Well, why are you lookin’, then?”
“I missed you.”
“Yes, well, that’s what happens when you abandon your parents for five years,” Eliza snaps before clapping a soapy hand over her mouth. “Oh, Retta—”
“’S’okay, Mama. I understand.”
And Rett does. She knew, before she even left Columbus, that Eliza wouldn’t be delirious with joy that her daughter’s come home. She was too angry about Rett’s absence, and they both know the visit isn’t going to be long. They know Rett will get what she wants then be gone again from Oak Creek.
Rett has missed her parents. She’s even missed the one-horse town and the people in it. It just isn’t where she belongs anymore.
As soon as she places the last plate neatly in the cupboard, Rett follows Eliza to the living room, but—where her mama sits on the couch—Rett continues toward the door. The hinges squeal when she pushes open the screen door, and memories rush to the forefront of her mind.
She remembers all the times Calum came over, all the times she ran through that very doorway to meet him in the front yard. Rain or shine, she always ran to him.
It’s no wonder they made such a mistake.
Sitting on the porch makes her feel like a teenager all over again, watching the world pass by. It’s a lazy sort of existence. Nothing to do, all the time in the world to do it. It has been theway of the town for as long as Rett can recall. All there is to do on a late-spring night like this is just breathe.
Miss Young strolls by, arm-in-arm with Mister Peterson. They’re too wrapped up in each other to pay much attention to their surroundings; Rett knows they’ll make it. Mister and Mrs. Parks rock on their porch swing across the street. He shells peanuts while she sketches in a pad spread across her lap. Rett can hear their radio from where she sits. It plays an old country station, and light bursts of static fill the waves every few seconds. Mrs. Landry watches her from the porch next door.
As much as Oak Creek is no longer home, Rett feels almost as at peace as she ever has before. The only differences are one mistake and seven years.
The television shuts off inside at the end of the hour, and Rett listens as her parents leave the living room for their bedroom. The door closes with a click, then there is nothing but the songs of crickets in the grass and the Parks’ radio. Even the music falls silent after a few minutes: The old couple has had enough of the evening. It’s eight o’clock, and the town is settling in for sleep.
Without thinking, Rett rises to her feet and pads barefoot down the cracked walkway to the road. No one stops her—as if anyone truly cares—as she makes her way along the street, passing the homes of neighbors she grew up around. The ones who helped shape her into who she is. Every house is just as she ever knew them: dilapidated but still standing proudly in the Tennessee dirt. She knows the people inside are the same, despite the differences.
