Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50080 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 250(@200wpm)___ 200(@250wpm)___ 167(@300wpm)
“These go with my outfit, Zane.”
“It’s snowing.” I pull forward and then back into the spot easily. “And they’re going to get ruined by all the crap on the sidewalk. The town puts salt on the sidewalks.”
“Well, I don’t want to ruin my boots.”
“Better than the heels you’re wearing. I don’t want you to slip, either.”
Caryn sighs heavily. I shut the SUV rental off and get out, careful of where I step. I didn’t think about putting on boots or galoshes and have no choice but to hop, skip, and leap over piles of dirty slush.
At the passenger door, I open it and reach for Caryn’s hand. She hasn’t changed her shoes, and she can’t say I didn’t warn her. I help her out of the car, lifting her as much as possible over the pile of plowed snow. After I set her down, she straightens her clothing and looks up at me.
“It’s a bit cold.”
“No colder than a windy day in the city.”
Caryn rubs her hands together and then links her fingers with mine. “What are we doing here?”
I point down the street at the general store. “That is the store my dad owns.”
“Oh,” she says as she takes it in. “I thought it was . . . well, I don’t know what I thought. It looks a bit run down.”
She’s not wrong. But in saying so, I feel guilt weighing heavily on me. I left him to take care of the store by himself, not that I ever wanted to be involved. My aspirations were different. Small-town living wasn’t for me.
“Come on, let’s go say hi.”
As we walk along the sidewalk, people stare at Caryn, giving her odd looks because she’s wearing high heels. No one in Deer Ridge and the other towns nearby wears high heels outside, especially in winter. It’s unheard of because it’s not safe. Even my teachers would switch out their shoes before going home.
We are within steps of the store when the aromatic scent of pine washes over me. I stop walking and inhale. The trees we have in our apartment are all fake.
“I don’t know why people want actual trees. They’re so messy,” Caryn comments.
Her statement shouldn’t stun me, but it does. I’ve always had a real tree until I met Caryn. It didn’t bother me until recently.
I hold the door of Whitaker’s General Store and wait for her to enter. The bell overhead chimes and an instant flush of memories comes back of me stocking shelves every morning during the summer, waiting for lunch so I can bike to the lake with my friends. Those days were the highlight of my life. Summers at the water, biking until it was too dark to see. There were and still are very few streetlights except on Main Street, so we rode until we couldn’t. Then started over the next day.
Things changed when I became older. I had more responsibilities which I didn’t mind because I had a paying job and used most of my money to buy my girlfriend ice cream down at the Tasty Freeze.
Those were the days.
With my hand on the small of Caryn’s back, I direct her toward the counter. My dad walks around the corner, and does a double take. After a moment, he smiles and comes around the counter. We hug tightly, patting each other’s back.
He steps back and keeps his hands on my shoulders. “My son.”
“Hey, Dad.”
“Boy, I’m happy to see you.”
“Me too.” My words barely make it out of my mouth as my heart seizes a bit. It hits me like a ton of bricks, how much I’ve missed my dad. Tears cloud my vision, and I let them fall. They are far overdue.
“Dad, I’d like you to meet my fiancé, Caryn Bamford.” I look from him to Caryn. “Caryn, this is my dad, Bernie Whitaker.”
Dad holds his hand out, and Caryn shakes it.
“It’s nice to meet you, Bernie.”
“You too,” he says quickly and then turns to me. “Are you passing through?”
“Nope, we’re here for the rest of the month. I thought it would be good for Caryn to spend some time in Deer Ridge.”
Pop looks at her quickly and then at me again. I get the sense he’s not impressed, and that’s my fault. Not Caryn’s. I could’ve brought her home many times over and I haven’t.
“Store looks great.” I look around but realize my words aren’t exactly true. The store needs a lot of work. Maybe it’s time to sell.
“It’s okay,” Dad says. “Evangeline helps me out whenever she can. She even sends some guys over from the farm to help.”
“Ev . . . Evangeline?” I clear my throat and feel Caryn’s gaze on me. I refuse to look at her. “She’s here?”
“Of course she is. Comes by every day. Sometimes, twice a day.”
Great.
“Who’s Evangeline?” Caryn asks.