There We'll Be (Together #3) Read online

  I scoffed. “He was four years older than her. I had to see her every day at school knowing I wanted her, Dad.”

  “I don’t care,” he spat back. “If you pursue her, I’m going to take the house back, and you’ll have to find somewhere else to live.”

  Something pierced my chest; it felt like someone had stabbed me. My own father would kick me out before he’d tell the truth?

  “What’s up, y’all?” Jace hollered behind me. I hadn’t even heard his truck pull up.

  “Nothing. We’re just gettin’ to work,” Dad said, turning his back to me. And that was it. Did he think that short speech would talk me out of loving her?

  Bastard.

  Ignoring Jace, I climbed the ladder and took my spot. The sun was already making me sweat, but anything to take away the last five minutes was good. I lost myself in the tiles of the roof, and everything my father had drilled into my head as a child was there, attempting to drown me once again.

  ***

  The sun was setting but she wasn’t moving. Her back was pressed against the base of a large oak bordering the line from Sawyer property to Cross property. I knew I wasn’t supposed to be there, or watching her, but I couldn’t help it.

  The wind blew her blond hair from her shaking shoulders, and her cry seemed to stop when she felt it. She closed her eyes, and my fingers latched onto the bark of the tree I’d hidden behind. She looked so sad and small. The ten-year-old boy in me wanted to investigate why she was crying, but I thought better of it.

  The darkness danced across the forest edges, warning us to go back home. I wish I would have just turned and left, but I didn’t. I stayed because I was fascinated with her.

  “Josie!” someone yelled, and I ducked lower, hiding still.

  “Oh no,” she whispered to herself and stood. She fixed her hair and dusted off her clothes in a hurry. She disappeared behind the trees before I could blink.

  Sadly, I turned and started toward my house. But it was short lived. My father was standing behind the closest tree, staring right at me. His face was pale as a ghost and his fists tight at his sides. “Go home and get on your bed,” he said calmly.

  Oh, no. That meant he was going to whoop my ass. Southern boys don’t get their toys taken away, they get their asses beat. “Dad, please,” I begged.

  He shook his head. “Go, now.”

  “Are you comin?” I asked, biting my cheek to keep the tears at bay.

  “In a minute,” he snapped. “Now go.”

  I walked around him, contemplating making a run for it, but took the path home. Dad watched me until I couldn’t see him any longer. I had no idea why he’d stayed after me, but I didn’t question it. Maybe he wanted to make sure that Josie had gotten home safe.

  My older brother, Scott, was sitting outside on the steps holding a football when I walked up. “What’s wrong with you, shorty?” he called out. I hated when he called me that.

  “Nothin’,” I said, pushing past him.

  “Don’t be such a brat,” he called after me. “What’s the matter?” He swung me around to face him. His eyes were just like Mom’s, or so I thought from the pictures I’d seen of her. She left after I was born.

  I snatched my arm from him. “Leave me alone!”

  Scott furrowed his brow. “Did you get caught watching the Sawyer girl again?”

  I gritted through my teeth. “It’s none of your business.”

  He shook his head and lowered his hands to my shoulders. “You’ve got to stop, Boone. It isn’t safe for you to see her. Dad could lose everything.”

  What? “Just leave me alone!” I said again, running upstairs and diving on my bed. The twenty minutes I sat there staring out my window was torture.

  Dad’s footsteps were like thunder coming up the stairs, each one scarier than the last. I could hear him pulling off his belt. Scott stepped in front of him, and it looked like he was trying to reason with him. But I knew it wouldn’t help.

  Dad walked into the room and stared down at me. “Bend over the bed.” There was so much sorrow on his face. “You know I do this because I love you. Because I need to keep you safe.”

  “I don’t understand,” I whispered into my blankets, clutching them for dear life.

  “You will someday, son.”

  Tears streamed down my cheeks as Dad hit me with the belt several times before pulling me into a hug. I didn’t want to hug him, or be near him, but I hugged him back anyway.

  “I love you, son. I’m sorry for everything.”

  He got up and left me sniffling in my bed. And even though my butt was burning from the ass whopping, I knew that next time I’d just have to be careful because Josie Sawyer was someone I couldn’t stop thinking about.

  ***

  I didn’t talk to my dad the rest of the day. We worked, and almost completed the job just as the sun was setting behind the trees. Jace had kept his distance the entire day, even taking his lunch break after mine.

  I didn’t care. Being alone was the best thing to keep me from going beast mode on everyone.

  My phone buzzed in the cup holder when I started my truck to leave the job site.

  “Hello, favorite cousin of mine,” Mindy said into the phone. I could hear Braxton, her son, trying to talk in the background.

  “What in the hell do you want?” I asked. “Because we all know Mindy doesn’t call to check up on people unless she wants something.”

  She snorted, and I imagined her rolling her eyes. “Funny. I need you to help me with the fair this weekend.”

  That was this weekend? God, I wanted to punch something. I’d promised her way back in October that I’d help with the fair. “Mindy,” I groaned.

  She sighed. “You promised, Boone. Don’t make me tell your dad that you don’t want to help.”

  “I’m a grown-ass man,” I said.

  “Boone,” she whined. Oh, here we go. “Please. I need you to help set up and do the dunking booth this year.”

  “No way. I’ll do anything but the dunking booth.”

  Silence. “Okay, you can do the kissing booth then.”

  Crap. That was the only thing worse than the dunking booth. “Okay, sign me up for the dunking booth. Give me a call Friday to remind me, though.”

  She giggled into the phone. “I love you, Boone. See ya Friday.” She hung up before I could say anything. Of course, I’d fallen for her manipulative scheme. It wouldn’t be the first time.

  My refrigerator was empty, so I stopped by the grocery store on the way home. There were only a few vehicles in the parking lot, so I figured I’d get out of there fast.

  The cool air spread over me and gave my sweating skin relief from the sun. I made my way through the few aisles until I found some hamburger meat in the back. Hamburgers sound good …

  I glanced up quickly, with the feeling of someone watching me, and saw her standing at the other end of the aisle. The steak in her hand was frozen in the air where she’d stopped dead in her tracks. Mrs. Sawyer stared down at me with a look of shock on her face. During the year Josie had been gone, I’d only seen her twice. And both times it was from a distance, where I wasn’t seen. This time she saw me. Her face was unreadable; I had no idea what she thought.

  Wait, hadn’t Jace seen his grandma getting groceries for her? But judging by the basket in her hands, she was making a meal for two.

  The meat flopped to the floor, breaking our eye contact, and she bolted from the building. What in the hell just happened?

  Chapter Eight

  Josie

  The hospital was nearly empty, which gave me an unpleasant moment to run into Kathy. I hadn’t talked to her since the tailgate, and after hanging up on her, I didn’t want to finish the conversation.

  I turned my back as soon as I saw her walking down the hallway toward my dad’s room. She was checking things off on a clipboard, and I didn’t think she’d seen me.

  “Josie?”

  Shit. I stopped mid-step and turned to face h
er. She was already walking toward me with a worried look on her face. “Are you okay? I wasn’t sure if you’d made it home the other night.”

  “Well, I made it,” I said, plastering a fake smile on my face. I didn’t want to talk to her, and I didn’t want her asking a thousand questions.

  She brushed back her curly brown hair and smiled. “What happened back there? I mean—you took off runnin’ and then Boone Cross went after you.” She lifted a brow. “Do you two have somethin’ going on?”

  My fingers tightened into fists at my sides. This was what I wanted to avoid. Around here, you look at someone the wrong way and suddenly you’re pregnant. I scoffed, and brushed my bangs from my forehead. “No,” I snapped. “We don’t. And I’d appreciate if you wouldn’t say that we did. This is why I hate this town so much.”

  Her eyes rounded. “I don’t have to tell anyone because everyone saw it.”

  “Great!” I tossed my hands in the air. “I’m glad. Now everyone can find something else to talk about besides my dying father.”

  Her lips pressed into a thin line and she hugged her clipboard tighter. I would have taken her more seriously if she weren’t wearing Scooby Doo scrubs. “Listen, Josie. I’m not sure what crawled up your ass and died¸ but I didn’t do anything but be nice to you. You’re just like your momma—a stuck-up bitch.”

  She turned on her heel and stomped down the hallway. I’d been called many things, but just like my momma stung more than any of them. I didn’t want to be mean to her. I hated that I’d taken out my anger on her because of my hatred for this town. I didn’t want to be like my mother, and I’d acted just like her.

  I went into my dad’s room and found him sitting quietly in his bed.

  “Hey, Dad.” I closed the door behind me and took a seat at the edge of his bed. “Feelin’ better?”

  He gave me a small smile and nodded, even though we both knew he wasn’t any better; I could tell by how pale his face was and the lack of movement on his part. “Have you talked to Momma today?”

  Dad shifted in his bed but shook his head. “No, Princess. She hasn’t stopped by today.”

  Furrowing my brow, I pulled at a random string on his hospital bed. “You want me to call her to come down?”

  “No.”

  “Is something going on with the two of you?” I asked. “I mean, I know what happened senior year, but I thought you were over that.”

  Dad ruffled his graying hair and scooted to sit up straight. “Josie, you don’t need to worry about any of that.”

  “Why not?” I asked. “I’m your daughter, and I care what happens to my parents.”

  His jaw clenched. “I’m dying. It doesn’t matter what your mother does—I’ll be gone soon.”

  What? Tears filled my eyes. He didn’t care what Mom was doing because he was dying? What kind of shit was that? “You’re jokin’ right? You can’t seriously not care what Mom does. She’s your wife.”

  “Since when?” he whispered, rubbing his fingers against his eyes. I could tell he was getting pissed but I didn’t care. That was the stupidest thing I’d ever heard anyone say.

  “So you’re just going to live the last month of your life ignoring each other?” I stood up. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Dad. You don’t deserve to be messed around on.”

  He shrugged his shoulders. “Your mother isn’t messin’ around on me, Josie. You just need to mind your own business. You don’t know everything like you think you do.”

  My mouth popped opened but I sunk back into the chair in the corner. “Then why don’t you tell me?”

  Dad groaned. “Tell you what?”

  “First off, why I wasn’t allowed in the woods growing up. Or why you hate the Crosses—”

  “No,” he blurted out. “Just know that it doesn’t matter why I don’t like them, but that you need to stay away from that family.”

  Aggravated, I tucked my hair behind my ear. “But why? I don’t understand—”

  Dad sat straight up, his brown eyes so much more intense than before. “He left you, didn’t he? That’s the reason you were heartbroken and left for California. Why would you care? He broke your heart and doesn’t deserve you.”

  “Okay.” I sat back in my seat and drew my legs to my chest. It was the only way to hide my shaking body. I wanted to scream. My dad was dying and no one cared but me. My mother was ignoring the situation, and my dad didn’t care to live. And no one would tell me what the hell was going on.

  Closing my eyes, I watched the inside of my eyelids and I eventually heard my dad start to snore.

  ***

  My school bag hung over one of my shoulders, slapping my leg as I walked up the stairs to my house. The thunder of noise inside stopped me mid-step.

  “I hate you,” my mother’s voice sliced through the air. “I hate everything about you. You’re not what I want.”

  More thudding came from behind the door, and then my mother’s cry. “I don’t want you.” She was crying hysterically.

  “Shut up,” Dad barked. “Josie will be home from school soon.”

  She scoffed. “I don’t give a shit. I’m sick of you hanging her over my head. That’s not what I wanted and you know it.”

  “It doesn’t matter what you want, you’ve got me, so start acting like a good mother and wife. I’m sick of picking up your slack.”

  Tears poured from the corners of my eyes. My mom doesn’t want me? There had been many reasons why I thought my mom was different from other moms, but her not wanting me hadn’t been one of them—until then.

  My Britney Spears backpack slipped from my shoulder and hit the ground. The strength in my legs gave out and I dropped to the porch. The oval-shaped glass in the front door showed a silhouette approaching but I was too sad to stand.

  “Josie?” Dad said.

  I looked up at him. His dark hair was brushed back from his face. The corners of his mouth were pulled downward. “I’m sorry,” I said.

  He reached down and pulled me into his arms. “Sorry for what, Princess? Did you do something at school today?”

  I shook my head and pulled at my loose ponytail. “For making Mommy mad.”

  Dad’s face turned to horror. “No, Princess.” He gestured for me to rest my head on his shoulder. “You didn’t make Mommy mad. Mommy makes herself mad. You’ll understand one day.”

  I nodded into his shoulder and stayed there until he walked us into the house. Mom shoved by Dad and paused at the door. I’d never forget the tears streaming down her face, the sorrow etched into her perfect skin. She turned and, without a word, slammed the door behind her.

  ***

  “We need to change his clothes.”

  What? I looked up to find Kathy standing in front of me with her arms crossed over her chest. She wasn’t making eye contact, but tapping her foot in annoyance.

  I glanced over at Dad but he wouldn’t meet my eyes, either. I knew he was mad that I’d brought up everything, but I needed to know. Sighing, I grabbed my bag and walked over to his bed to give him a quick kiss. “I’ll be back tomorrow. Maybe we could play some UNO, for old time’s sake?”

  Dad’s face softened and he nodded. “I love you, Princess.”

  “I love you, too.”

  I drove home in my mother’s old Mercedes with the windows down, the soft smell of summer breezing through the car. There are certain things about Arkansas that could never be mimicked, and the smell of summer is one of them.

  Mom was on the porch when I got home, a cup of sweet tea in her hands and what looked like a scrapbook sitting beside her.

  I walked over and took a seat in one of the wicker chairs on the porch. “Where have you been all day?”

  She lifted her gaze. “Here. Why?”

  “Because your husband is dying in the hospital. Excuse me if I thought you’d actually want to spend some time with him.”

  Her knuckles turned white around her glass. “I’ve been up there every day. Don’t you lecture me on how to tre
at my husband.”

  I snorted and shook my head. “No, because that would mean you’d have to care about him. And the entire town clearly knows that you don’t.”

  Mom jumped to her feet, her tea spilling all over the porch between us. “You shut your mouth. You don’t have any room to talk. Leaving for California without a second glance back. At least I don’t run away from my problems.”

  I hated that she rubbed that in my face. And more than that, I hated that I felt guilty for not coming home sooner. I was gone long enough for my dad to get sick. I didn’t need her reminding me of it; it weighed heavily on me enough already.

  I could taste the bitterness on my tongue as my thoughts formed. Deep down, I knew I was taking out my anger on her, on Kathy, on everyone, but I couldn’t stop it.

  I glared at her. “You don’t know anything about my problems, Mom. You wouldn’t. I can’t remember the last time we’ve been within ten feet of each other.”

  “Don’t talk about things you don’t understand, little girl. This is much bigger than you.”

  Anger sliced through me. “Right!” I shouted. “Because no one tells me anything. I must have a big S on my head for stupid. I’m not a little kid anymore, and I want to know what’s going on!”

  Mom matched my gaze but didn’t open her mouth.

  “Right,” I said, fixing my hair. “You know what? I don’t give a shit anymore. If you don’t like me—whatever. You can go find that guy you fu—”

  Mom slapped me. It rang through the silence of the house and stung my cheek. I stumbled backward, holding my face like she’d set it on fire. Mom didn’t say anything as we stared at each other. She grabbed the book that was sitting beside her and stormed into the house.

  Speechless, I stared down at the porch. She’d hit me. Before I could cry, I walked into the house and climbed the stairs to my room. I slipped into the unmade bed and cried. The old me would have called Boone to come and pick up the pieces, but I didn’t have that option. The only option I had was to deal with this alone.