Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93453 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“It’s my dad.” The words come out of my mouth in a low tone. She puts her hand on top of mine. “He’s not doing good.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Her voice is filled with kindness. She was the first friend I made when I moved here six years ago. I drove through the town and stayed a couple of nights at the local motel, which had the sweetest man running it. I didn’t know where I fit in, but I knew here in the middle of nowhere, no one knew me. No one knew my story. No one looked at me with hatred or anger or pity. I was just Autumn, the new girl in town. One day turned into three, and on the fourth day, while having a piece of pie at the local diner, Mildred walked in. She oozed confidence in skintight jeans and a tight top, and her silver hair made me do a double take. Truth be told, if I had her body at her age, I would probably have been dressed the same. She got on the stool next to me, and we started talking. She ran the local bar in town and was down a server, so I figured, why not? Now, six years later, I help her run it by doing her books and working side by side here on the busy days. She’s the closest thing I’ve ever had to a mother figure.
“I have to go home.” The thought alone makes me want to throw up. In the past six years, I have never had the pull to go home. Do I think of home every single night right before I go to bed? Yes. Is it a good memory? No. It’s what nightmares are made of. It’s the reason I’m breathing through life and not actually living. In reality, I died eight years ago. My heart is the only thing that didn’t stop that night. Everything else did.
“Time to face those demons.” My eyes fly back to hers. Even though we are close, she has no idea about the accident, and I wasn’t going to tell her. To her, I was just Autumn, the lost girl who wandered into this small town and stayed. She loved me for who I was, the Autumn who smiles because she has to. The Autumn who laughs and then feels the immense guilt that I’m laughing. The Autumn who wakes every single morning with a burning hole in her stomach and wondering when her heart is going to put her out of her misery. “I knew you were running from something. You are a shell of a person.” She squeezes my hand. “Stop running.” She gives me a sad smile. “Trust me, I ran and wish I hadn’t.” I knew she held secrets; she knew I held secrets. I think that’s why we bonded. We both hold those secrets so close to our hearts that no one is ever going to be let in.
“I’m coming back,” I tell her, “so don’t think you're replacing me.” This is my home now, the only home I want.
“I could never replace you.” She gets up and kisses the side of my head that eight years ago was laced with twenty-seven stitches. It was the least of my injuries.
I inhale deeply, looking down at the papers in front of me. “I’ll finish this and then make my arrangements,” I inform her, and she shakes her head.
“No, you won’t.” She grabs the papers from the desk. “You will go upstairs, pack your shit, and go to your father.” I tilt my head to the side.
“Being mean isn’t you.” I try not to laugh at her, but I can’t help it as she glares.
“Do you want me to get the bat?” She mentions the baseball bat she keeps behind the bar in case someone acts up, and she has to stand up for herself. It’s hard being a bar owner who is also a woman. She makes sure that everyone knows not to fuck with her.
“Fine, I’m going.” I get up out of the chair. “When I come back, I’m bringing a cushion for that chair.”
“Hmm.” She shakes her head. “If I take you back.”
I can’t help but throw my head back and laugh, clapping my hands. “You love me.”
“Love is a strong word, my girl.” She softens when she says my girl. “Now get out of here and go to your father.” Her eyes fill with tears. “You call me if you need me, and I’ll come.”
“He’ll be pissed as hell if you show up,” I tell her. “He wants you to think he’s macho.”
Now it’s Mildred’s turn to laugh. “He’s about as macho as it comes.” She shakes her head. Over the years, he’s come to visit me, and he and Mildred would always be trying to best each other. Even down to drinking, which he would win because he had a hundred pounds on her.