Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Because that strategy had worked so well on me back in the day, right?
In the end, that life was my fantasy. Mal had made it pretty clear tonight that wasn’t what he wanted. Our time together was done, and if I respected Mal at all, I had to respect his wishes about this.
After all that Mal had given me this week—his understanding, his humor, his passion, his insight into the Thicket that had finally made my hometown feel like my home town after all these years—I’d be a selfish bastard if I didn’t.
And I had a sudden flash of insight into how Ava must’ve felt all those years ago, because it really was heartbreaking to be the person who got left behind.
Ava laid her head on my shoulder for a second, then sniffed and straightened. “Alright, enough. Come on back inside before Amos Nutter decides I’ve added you to my bisexual harem. And, ah… you might have a thing or two to explain to your mother.”
“Yeah.” Compared to Mal leaving, the rest of this shitstorm didn’t seem too terrible.
“Strength in numbers,” Ava said confidently, wrapping her hand around mine.
I remembered Mal teasing me for always trying to fix everything for everyone, for trying to be perfect. How ironic that the best way to make things right for the person who mattered most was to stand back and let him walk away from me.
18
Mal
I was being ridiculous. I knew that. And quite frankly, it was nothing new. Echoes of “such a drama queen” bounced around my head in my mother’s voice. It was as familiar to me as I’d imagine any lullaby would have been for a “normal” kid. Whatever normal meant.
But I also had a long enough and painful enough history to justify protecting my heart. And right now, I needed to get the fuck out of this place in order to do that. Regardless of how I felt about Brooks Johnson, I needed to focus on my career, and this gallery opportunity wasn’t something I could pass up. I needed to get back to the Iveys’ and pack.
Unfortunately, the fairgrounds were on the other side of Licking Thicket from the Iveys’ farm, so I had to walk straight through the square and out by the highway on my way back. As I made my way through town, I tried not to notice the brick half wall where Brooks had sat and stared at my vendor booth when he thought I wasn’t looking. I tried not to look at the tax office where he’d shoved me up against the wall and given me drunken heart eyes. And when I had to pass the back of the football stadium, I didn’t dare look over at the metal bleachers.
But there was only so much emotion I could fight. When I arrived at the town sign, I stopped and stared. Someone had set up a new system of uplighting to display it to full advantage. The giant sculpture shone like a proud lion at the entrance to his lair. It was everything I’d wanted it to be: clean but well-used, classic but with a nod to modern technology, and whimsical without being cheesy.
I heard an older man’s voice behind me. “You should be very proud of yourself, son.”
I turned to see Red Johnson approaching from his parked truck. I’d been so distracted with the details of the sign and thinking about Brooks, I hadn’t even heard him pull up.
I swallowed. “Thank you, sir. I’m happy with how it turned out.”
Brooks’s dad stepped up beside me and studied the sign with his hands in his pockets. “We’ve never had anything near this nice here, and I can’t stop driving up and down this road just staring at it. It truly is a work of art, Mal. You’re very talented.”
His words shot right into my heart and bloomed into a wash of feelings I wasn’t expecting. I wasn’t sure I’d ever experienced paternal pride before. Another first here in the Thicket.
“Thank you,” I said again in a bit of a whisper. His words were a kind of benediction of my decision to fly back to California and prepare for the gallery showing. I was talented. And I wasn’t going to give that up for anyone.
Not that Brooks had asked me to, of course. He wouldn’t do that. But the realization my self-doubt and second-guessing had come from my own internal bullshit was upsetting. Brooks was putting his own career first as he should. Why the hell had I contemplated letting my career take a back seat to this whirlwind romance, even for a minute?
Mr. Johnson looked over at me. “The Thicket could use more people like you. Entrepreneurs, artists… people who seem to get what we’re all about. It’s clear from this sign that you get us even though you’ve only been here a week. That’s amazing.”