Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 62772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 62772 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 314(@200wpm)___ 251(@250wpm)___ 209(@300wpm)
5
TARA
I pulled into town, taking in the memories of my childhood. The best thing about Ashford was that it never really changed. It could also be the worst thing, to be fair. I remember dying to get out, to live life differently. The older I got, the more I understood the value that a strong base like Ashford had provided. It would always be home to me. I hadn’t told my parents what day I would arrive, so walking into the store would be a little bit of a surprise.
“Oh my goodness! You didn’t call to say you would be in today! I’m so happy to see you.”
My mother’s voice echoed through the space. She was a tad emotional, which caused me to squint my eyes so I didn’t tear up. It had been a few months since I’d seen them. My father looked through the opening in the wall between the counter and the back room.
“Boy, are you a sight for sore eyes. How was the trip?”
After they both smothered me in hugs, I felt efficiently loved and missed. The store hadn’t changed since I was little. The same divot in the floor to the right of the counter and the mismatched paint near the top of the wall felt comfortable. It was nice to know exactly what to expect sometimes.
“Have you been to the house yet?”
“No. I came here first. I wasn’t sure what time you were closing up.”
“You’re here right on time, then. I was just counting the drawer.”
I stepped back, letting them finish up while I checked out the bulletin board near the door. All of the town’s activities were posted on boards just like this in several stores. They were like town newsletters in 3D form. Something else that never changed.
“All right! We’re ready. Are you hungry?”
I knew that was code for, “Do you want Sergio’s?” Which I did, of course. It was the best pizza I’d ever had, and I’d had a lot of pizza.
“I am. I had an early lunch in anticipation of some pizza.”
“Oh, really? We were thinking of the diner.”
She barely got the words out before she laughed, pointing to my pouty face. I knew she was kidding, and to be fair, I loved the diner as well. But she knew I was Team Sergio’s.
“Now, Beth. Give the girl a break. She’s had a long trip.” My father wrapped an arm around me. “Of course we’re having pizza. The world hasn’t turned topsy-turvy since you’ve been gone.”
I laughed, walking out in front of them so they could lock up. We walked to Sergio’s, me listening to them chatter about the upcoming fishing tournament. I wondered if Mr. Adams had come back in and how I could slip that into the conversation.
Pushing open the heavy door, the smell of pizza and breadsticks ignited my senses. I’m fairly certain my mouth watered immediately. The waitress came to our table quickly, and we ordered our usual. Mushroom, sausage, and green peppers with cheese breadsticks. They might need to roll me out when I was done. In no time at all, the food was at our table, and the drama of my job, or ex-job as it seemed, was the furthest thing from my mind. I just wanted to enjoy the night with my parents and the pizza.
We boxed up the leftovers and headed home, me following them. They both helped carry my luggage in, Mom eyeing me with the load.
“I didn’t unpack from Brussels, so I just brought it all. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Not at all. I just wondered if you were moving back for good. We wouldn’t mind, you know.”
“I know. And I appreciate it.”
It would have been easy to tell them then. Let them know that I’d probably thrown away my best shot at reaching my dreams. But in my heart, I knew that wasn’t the truth. I wasn’t sure they would understand, though. To them, success meant stability, not lofty visions of my name on an editorial byline. There would be plenty of time to discuss my current employment situation with them. Tonight was not the night.
“I cleared out some space for you. I guess it’s a good thing.”
“Thanks, Mom. I can carry these the rest of the way.”
“Nonsense. We can help.”
My dad started down the stairs, the bag clunking behind him on each stair. My room had been in the basement ever since eighth grade. It was my graduation present, a space with more privacy and a room to lounge with my friends. I also had my own bathroom, which, if I remembered correctly, they’d joked was a gift to them. I didn’t take offense—I’d spent a long time on my hair when I was younger.
My room looked the same, more or less. As the years passed, the living area had become filled with storage. My mother’s craft table and supplies sat where the futons my friends and I had watched movies from once stood. They were still there, just moved to one side of the wall. Thanking them, I unpacked half the suitcases and changed clothes. I was tired from the trip and the stress of the last few days. As promised, my belongings had been waiting for me at the front desk of the office. I’d considered asking for a one-on-one meeting, but I wasn’t sure what I would say. I wasn’t ready to beg for my job back, even though not having a job scared the tar out of me.