“Worst proposal ever.”
I stomp out of the house.
I hear Nate calling my name as I fling myself into the car and screech the tires as I drive away, tears blurring my vision as I rocket down the street. I park the car in front of my building, race to my apartment, and immediately begin packing.
Chapter 20—Accident
I rearrange a few of the Dr. Seuss books on the children’s table and take a step back.
I’m grateful for the job at the Accident library. The work is quiet, isolated, and lonely. Though I can’t say that I like it, the feeling is familiar enough, and I’m not sure I’m ready for much of anything else just yet. I’ve sold a few pieces of furniture on the side but haven’t opened the antique shop to the public so far. Maybe I chould start opening it on the weekends in the near future, but for now I’m just glad to have the daily, mundane distraction of placing novels on a shelf and answering questions about where to find the gardening books.
Mundane.
Fear of a stagnant life and loneliness are what had driven me to seek out family and new experiences after Aunt Ginny passed, yet here I am, doing exactly what I didn’t want to be doing. I try not to think about my brief life in Ohio. I don’t want to dwell on the whole idea of belonging to a family. Clearly, that’s not going to work for me.
I finish my shift, make my way to Main Street, and turn left to head home. A brief flash of another Main Street comes to mind, one with people refusing to cross from one side to the other, but I banish the memory from my head. I don’t need thoughts like that haunting me.
As if to taunt me, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I don’t take it out to look at it. I haven’t looked at it in weeks. Only one person sends me text messages, and I know who it is. Over the past two months, I’ve ignored all of his messages, but he keeps sending them anyway. I’ve considered blocking the number, but that would require me to look at the phone long enough to figure out how, and I just can’t quite get myself to do it.
As I pass the antique shop, I hear the phone ringing inside.
“Shit!”
I fumble around in my purse for the keys, quickly open the door, and rush inside. I manage to get there just as the ancient rotary dial phone stops ringing, of course. I figure the caller is probably Mrs. Mable since she’s been bugging me about a set of chairs she saw through the window. I start to flip through Aunt Ginny’s Rolodex—as much an antique as any of the furniture in here—to look for Mrs. Mable’s number.
Before I find the number, the phone rings again, startling me. I grab the handset quickly.
“Cherry? Is that you?”
“Yes.” The voice is familiar, but it’s definitely not Mrs. Mable. I can’t quite place who it is. It’s like seeing your pastor on the street in a T-shirt and shorts—too out of place to immediately register.
“It’s Nora. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you.”
I freeze. I want to just slam the phone back into its cradle, but I can’t quite bring myself to be so rude. I bite my lip, and my hands begin to shake.
“I’ve been texting you,” Nora says, “but you haven’t responded.”
“I figured it was Nate again.” I mash my lips together, angry with myself for even uttering his name.
“Yeah, he said he’s texted you a few times.”
“More like a few hundred.” I grit my teeth. Though I do miss Nora—I can’t lie about that—this is the exact conversation I don’t want to have. “I don’t want to talk to you, Nora.”
“I just want to know you’re okay,” Nora insists. “I’m worried about you.”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine. I know Nate isn’t fine.”
“I really don’t care at this point!” I can’t stop the anger from coming out in in my voice. Just talking to Nora brings the memories back, and I’m not prepared for them. “Do you even know what he did? In the middle of all that shit, he brought out a ring and proposed. He fucking proposed!”
“Well, Cherry dear,” Nora says with a sigh, “my brother is an idiot.”
“That’s obvious!”
“But in this case, he’s a sincere idiot.”
“He just used me, Nora! Nothing about our relationship was real!”
“Maybe in the beginning,” she says, “but that changed long before you ran off. He really cares for you, Cherry. He’s getting help, you know. I honestly couldn’t imagine he’d agree to it, but he knew he had to if he was ever going to have a chance.”
“A chance at what?”
“Seeing you again.”
“Not going to happen.”
“He loves you. He hopes if he gets the help he needs, he’ll at least get the chance to make amends. He’s never been like this with anyone else. Maybe it started out as deception, but it isn’t any more.”
“He lied to me.”
“He lied to himself,” Nora grumbles. “He was being manipulated, and I think you know who was behind it all.”
“Who?”
“Pops.”
“Your dead father? That’s the best excuse you can come up with?”
“Nate and Pops had a…tumultuous relationship. Nate always wanted Pops to be proud of him and to treat him with respect, the way Pops treated
