Pieces of You Page 2

“You’d think I threw you out into the wild with a hatchet and an empty belly to fend for yourself,” she shakes her head. “You’re such a handsome boy. Sit up and act right.”

  I glance down at the mess in front of me and can’t help but smirk. From the outside looking in, she’s right. You’d never know the woman across from me had taught me any life skills at all. That being said I can’t help what a decade of contracting and hard, physical labor has done to disrupt my table manners.

  “I’m sorry, Ma,” I sigh, polishing off the last of my sandwich before crumpling up my napkin and leaning back in my seat, waiting patiently for her. “So, what else is new?” I ask, resting my arm over the empty chair beside me. “Got any hot new gossip this week?”

  “Oh, not too much,” she shakes her head. “I’m glad to see Ava back. She sure did grow up to be a pretty girl, didn’t she?” she asks, pulling a nod from me as I recall her light eyes and amber colored hair. “You know, she and Eddie split up.”

  “Oh, yeah?” I ask, feigning interest. “No, I didn’t know that.”

  “Yes, sir. She just told me that right before you pulled up,” she continues, shaking her head before she takes a sip from her iced tea. “You know, it’s a real shame. Such a sweet girl going through so much heartache all at once.”

  “Yeah, that is too bad,” I agree. “Can’t say I’m all that surprised, though. I don’t remember much about Eddie Sawyer, but what I do isn’t all that impressive.”

  “He was a star when he was here, wasn’t he?”

  “That’s what they say. They also said he treated that girl like dirt from the jump,” I shake my head. “People say a lot of things, though, Ma. Doesn’t make ‘em all true.”

  “You’re right about that, son,” she agrees, her mind wandering as she takes another sip from her tea and carefully wipes her lips. “You know, I was thinking…”

  “Yeah?” I smirk, immediately certain of the direction she’s planning on shifting this conversation in.

  “You really should ask her out.”

  “What?”

  “When you take me back to the house, you should go over there and ask her out on a date,” she insists. “She’s such a good girl and she’s been through the ringer. She needs a nice boy, Nathan.”

  “Ma, I barely remember the girl and I just talked to her for two seconds. Not to mention, things just ended with Tracy. The last thing I need is a new relationship with your neighbor’s kid.”

  “Well, that’s alright, son. You don’t have to know everything about a woman to ask her out on a date. I barely knew your father when he asked me on our first date and look how nicely that worked out,” she smiles as she reaches across the table and pats my cheek. “Besides, you don’t have to do anything fancy. Just take her to get some pie or something?”

  “Take her for pie?” I ask, balking at her immediate nod. “So, you want me to go knock on this girl’s door and say what? ‘Sorry to hear about your dead father and your failed marriage. Let’s go have some pie.’ Is that what you’re telling me?”

  “What’s the matter with that?”

  “No,” I shake my head, my laughter contorting her expression into one of confusion. “That’s the worst advice you’ve ever given me, hands down.”

  “Well, fine. You don’t have to, but don’t come crying to me later,” she waves me off dismissively. “You know, this is why you can’t find a nice girl.”

  “No, it’s not,” I shake my head, leaning further back into my seat. “And even if it was, at least I won’t become some kind of pie rebound.”

  “Oh, hush, you,” she waves me off with a chuckle. “Just be nice to her. She’s been through hell and I’m sure she could use a friend. She probably doesn’t have many of those around here these days. You know, she left with that boy right after school and hasn’t been back here much since. A part of me wonders if what you heard is true and he was terrible to her.”

  “Hard to say, Ma,” I offer, not sure what else to add, but trying hard not to shake my head in amusement.

  My mother, the gossip.

  She finishes her food, filling me in more on Ava and other drama from the cul-de-sac before we go. After a quick trip to the post office and the grocery store, we head back to her house just in time for the rain to finally start pouring down on us. I get her inside, running back out to my truck twice to get her groceries before I’m finally inside and drying my hair on a kitchen towel, much to her despair.

  “You’re right, son. I was wrong,” she offers, tsking at me. “This is why you can’t get yourself a nice girl. It has nothing to do with the pie.”

  “Thanks, Ma,” I chuckle, smiling broader at her giggle as she swats at me with the sales paper she’s holding. “Do you want me to help you put this stuff up?”

  “No, honey. I can manage, thank you,” she says. “But would you be a doll and run this over to Ava?” she asks, pulling a boxed pound cake from one of the bags. “I wanted to take something over the other day, but after seeing her at the service, I thought I’d best leave her be for a day or two.”

  “Well, would you look at how that turned out?” I say sarcastically, ignoring her wink. “So, the pie was a no go, but I’m supposed to be alright with taking her a cake in the rain, eh?”

  “Stop being like that and take it to her,” she waves me off. “If you’re dead set on being lonely, you can just tell her it’s from me. I don’t need any grandbabies. You’re plenty.”

  “Oh, God,” I groan, pulling a laugh from her. “Fine. Just give me the cake.”

  “Thank you, doll.”

  “You’re welcome,” I shake my head. “You need anything else from me?”

  “Just a hug, a kiss on the cheek and a promise that you’ll drive safe on your way home.”

  “I promise,” I say, pulling her in for a hug as I kiss her cheek. “Call me if you need anything. I love you.”

  “I love you, too, son,” she smiles, patting my cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Chapter Three

  Ava

  I step out of the shower, the clap of thunder overhead making me jump slightly nearly drowning out the sound of the doorbell ringing through the house. I quickly pull my robe on and am tying the sash around my waist when I glance through the glass in my father’s door, surprised to see Nathan Foster standing on the porch.

  “Hi,” I say awkwardly, pulling the door open.

  “Hey,” he replies, giving my robe an inconspicuous glance before he gestures to the white box in his hand. “Sorry to bother you.”

  “You’re not,” I shake my head, glancing outside to see the rain coming down harder. I used to love the rain, but ever since the last night I spent with Eddie, it terrifies me. I’m lost in that memory when Nathan shifts on his feet, pulling me back. “Do you want to come inside?”

  “No, no,” he answers, waving me off and thankfully not noticing the low sigh of relief his answer pulls from my chest. I’m sure he’s a nice enough guy, but after everything I’ve just been through, inviting a strange man with a suspicious looking cardboard box into my house isn’t high on my to-do list. “My mother just asked me to stop by and give this to you,” he continues before he hands it over, a closer look revealing a chocolate chip pound cake, the cardboard painted with raindrops. “She has this weird thing with pastries right now,” he says quietly, making my eyebrows quirk together slightly in curiosity as I glance up to find him shaking his head clear. “Anyway, she said she wanted to come by before, but wasn’t sure it would be alright, so she waited. Apparently for a storm so she could send me instead.”

  His lips quirk up and mine are close to follow, my eyes moving from his to glance back down at the box in silent appreciation.

  “Thank you,” I continue quietly, surprised by the kind gesture. “That was very thoughtful of her. Well, of you both,” I correct myself. “I’m not sure I’ve ever had someone bring me a cake in the rain,” I consider awkwardly, tracing the edge of the box with my fingertip before qui
ckly shaking my head clear. “Thank you very much. I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have a nice neighbor.”

  “You’re welcome,” he says, returning my smile when I bring my eyes back to his.

  I notice his hair is dripping from the rain, the darkness of it while wet emphasizing the lightness of his eyes.

  Despite my nerves, I can’t help but feel bad he’s soaked over a cake his mother probably demanded he bring me.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to come inside and at least dry off?” I ask once more, silently hoping for another refusal regardless of my manners.

  “Yeah, I’ve gotta head home,” he replies, pulling a nod from me. “But thank you.”

  “Of course,” I smile, jumping once more when I hear another clap.

  “I better get going,” he smirks at my reaction. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

  “Sounds good,” I reply. “Drive safe.”

  “I will,” he promises, taking the steps quickly as he jogs to his truck.

  I watch as he slips inside and pulls away from the curb before I push the door shut and lock it behind me.

  The rest of my night bleeds into the end of my week and is by all accounts unremarkable. The rain is unrelenting, mirroring the ache in the pit of my stomach. I spend my days unpacking a few boxes here and there, avoiding the two bedrooms upstairs before I eat alone in the small kitchen each night, my appetite still not where it should be. My father’s words of selfcare from the last time we spoke echo in my mind and I force myself to eat a few more bites before I finally give up and amble toward the living room to find something mindless, something careless that promises nothing more than distraction from my rapid thoughts. Eventually, I yank the old quilt from the back of his couch, savoring in the bittersweet feeling of being wrapped in the scent of Old Spice and home I’d missed for so long before I drift away on the couch.

  I keep thinking the days will grow shorter, the ache won’t be quite so deep the following day, but in my first week, that doesn’t come. I wake briefly each morning at six, disoriented until the bright numbers on the clock infiltrate my thoughts, reminding me of the same time I’d gotten the phone call about my father telling me I hadn’t made it home in time.

  It isn’t long before the tears come, the disarray of my life unraveling at the seams creeping in on me tenfold in the darkness.

  I think back to the girl who grew up inside these walls and briefly wonder how the woman who remains got to this place.

  This isn’t the life she ever thought she’d have.

  I’m not sure who she thought I’d be, but it was never this.

  She never imagined this.

  ***

  When I wake on Monday morning, I’m surprised to find the sun out. It’s early, the sound of birds chirping alien to me now after having spent so many years in the middle of the city.

  I pull myself from the couch, the mustiness left over from the rain filling my senses as I step inside the kitchen and start the coffee pot. I open the back door in my dad’s kitchen, enjoying the feel of the light breeze moving through the house and make my way back across the dated tile. Quickly, I wash up my leftover dishes from the night before and reach into the cupboard, smiling small to myself when my fingers fall on his favorite coffee cup. Quite possibly the worst Father’s Day present ever, I pull the ‘World’s Greatest Dad’ mug from its place and recall the countless mornings I’d watched him reading his paper, this cup in his calloused hands. The memory is bittersweet, but one I don’t rush, grateful for the sweet that comes with my thoughts of him.

  Of all the things I have to be bitter about in my life, my father has never been one of them. He’d been the model dad, showing me exactly the kind of man I hoped to give my own children someday. I can’t say I’m looking for a guy right now, maybe never again after the nightmare that had been my marriage to Eddie. I didn’t pay enough attention when I was a kid, which is probably why I ended up with someone like him in the first place, but I see it now.

  By the time I’ve finished my coffee and worked my way through the last of the cake Nathan had brought over a few days ago, I push myself away from the table, intent on keeping myself busy.

  The little bit of money I have leftover won’t last me through the end of the month. Eddie wouldn’t let me work for the last few years of our marriage, his insecurities keeping me locked inside our apartment, catering to him. The lack of independence in that life had not only stripped me of my confidence, it had done little to help my savings account, which was currently nonexistent.

  My father had insurance, but after his funeral and loose ends were tied up, the bulk of my inheritance would go to keeping this house.

  If I want to keep my sanity along with it, I need to find a job.

  I pull on a pair of jeans and a t-shirt before making my way outside, grateful for old traditions in a small town like the morning paper at the end of the driveway. I’m halfway back to my front door when I sense movement on the other side of the shrubs, pulling my eyes with it.

  “Good morning, honey,” Mrs. Foster calls out, giving me a pleasant wave from where she’s busying herself by sweeping her porch.

  “Good morning,” I smile, following her lead and making my way across the lawn to meet her. “How are you doing?”

  “Oh, I reckon I’m right as rain. How are you doing today, dear?”

  “I’m okay, thank you,” I reply, gesturing to the paper in my hand. “Just thought I’d better get busy looking through here for some work. Do you know of anything?”

  “No, honey. I’m sorry, I sure don’t, but you can ask Nathan,” she offers. “He’s always out and about and knows things like that. I tend to stick close to home.”

  “Okay,” I nod awkwardly, unsure that’s a conversation that will ever happen.

  Nathan seems like a nice enough guy, one who, if his mother is any indication, I’m sure will be happy to offer his help. But I barely know him. As nice as it would be to get a heads up on what’s available for work in the area, I can’t imagine he’s chomping at the bit for me to intrude on his time and ask for help.

  “He’s coming by later on this afternoon. If you don’t have any luck, I’ll send him over there,” she says, pulling me from my thoughts.

  “Oh, that’s very sweet of you, but that’s alright,” I shake my head nervously. “I don’t want to be a bother.”

  “It’s no bother,” she waves me off. “You can try the grocery store. I know Glen Miller up there is always looking for help. You tell him I sent you up there and I’m sure if he’s got anything, he’ll let you know.”

  “I will be sure to do that this afternoon,” I smile, more hopeful than I’d been before. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” she smiles, readjusting her broom.

  “Is there anything I can do for you?”

  “Oh, no, honey, but thank you for the offer.”

  We say our goodbyes and I make my way back inside to get ready for the day, slapping on the minimal amount of makeup and running a brush through my hair as quickly as possible. By the time I make it to my father’s old truck, less than twenty minutes have slipped by and my nerves are already on edge once more.

  You ain’t ever gonna be nothin’ without me, Ava.

  I shake the feeling, the haunting words that never cease to echo in my mind before I crank the engine and push forward.

  Chapter Four

  Nathan

  “Come on, buddy,” I say, pulling the passenger door to my truck open and ushering my dog, Rocky, into the cab, His curled tail wagging as his paws hit the seat and he settles in, the sunlight hitting his floppy ears making his tawny color appear lighter than it actually is. At least a half a dozen people told me when I brought him home from the shelter adopting a pit would be a mistake. However, as I glance over and find his tongue hanging out on one side, his excitement palpable as I shut him into the cab, I can’t help but be grateful I didn’t listen. He’s already in the driver’s seat waiting for me
when I pull the door open and slip inside, his tongue lapping at my skin making me chuckle. “I love you, too, dude. Get over there and be a good boy so we can go.”

  He moves to his side of the cab and settles easily as I crank the engine and pull out of the driveway, heading toward the edge of town. We stop at the ATM at the bank and the drive-thru, the faint sound of music slipping from the speakers as the cool breeze seeps into the cab. When we pull up to my mom’s house an hour later, we both feel lighter and he jumps out with me, both of us eager to stretch our legs.

  “There are my boys,” my mom calls from the porch, Rocky’s ears flopping slightly as he trots toward her making us both smile. “Hey buddy,” she greets him, bending to scratch his chin before she stands upright to greet me as well. “Hey, kid,” she smiles. “How was work?”

  “Alright,” I shrug, kissing her cheek. “All the rain we got last week meant a half day, so we’ve just been hanging out, running errands.”

  “Ooh! That sounds exciting,” she snorts, gesturing for me to come inside. “Supper’s nearly ready. I hope you’re hungry.”

  “I’m always hungry,” I admit, making her chuckle.

  She glances over my shoulder briefly before shaking her head and following me inside, making my eyebrows quirk together.

  “What’s up?”

  “Oh, nothing,” she waves me off as she pushes the door shut. “Ava was asking me earlier if I knew if anyone around town was looking for help. I told her I didn’t, but that I’d send you over to talk to her and see if you could help her out. She isn’t home now, though.”

  “Why would I be able to help her out?”

  “Because you know these things,” she shrugs, her nonsensical reply making my eyes narrow.

  “Ma, I work seventy hours a week in the middle of a construction site. Unless you or Rocky start looking for some part-time help, I ain’t gonna know about it.”

  “Well, people talk,” she reasons. “I didn’t know if one of the guys said anything. And you know, I know better than to think your whole life revolves around that job and your pup. You’re up at that bar three nights a week and you went bowling with Nicholas and Andrew just the other night.”