Page 76 of There's Pumpkin About You
Yes, I miss arguing with her, and yes, I still do find it easier than talking to her, but that doesn’t mean I’ve always been blind to the light that clings onto her like it clings onto the moon at night.
When it comes to emotions, I feel a lot more than people expect. However, when it comes to people, I’ve always either formed a logical connection or an emotional one. Logical connections are just that—logical. I connected with my father because I needed him to survive, so when I realized that he hated that I was different, it never bothered me as it might somebody else.
Emotional connections, however, can be quite… intense. I don’t just connect with them, I cling to them, I rely on them. I reach for them during any emotion and sometimes it feels like I struggle to live without them.
My mother was an emotional connection. When I woke in the morning, I looked for my mother, when I did all but sneeze, I looked for my mother. When she died, I didn’t talk for three months, lost in a void that I thought I would never leave because it was always her who pulled me out of it. I would reach for my mother’s hand and would come up empty. I would call my mother’s number and no one would pick up. I would scream for her at night and no one would come… except my brothers.
Bash stepped into that role as easily as if he actually were a parent. He looked out for me, he supported me, he learned what I needed and what I struggled with. He knew what foods to avoid because of the texture, he knew what paths to take to school and to work because there was always a right one and a wrong one.
It’s been a while since I formed that kind of connection with anyone. What’s more, I’ve never made that kind of connection with someone that included a romantic aspect, and that’s what scares me. The more I realize that I have feelings for Wren, the more I feel this call to her. She’s the siren calling to me whilst I’m lost at sea, but the problem is I have no idea where the rocks are. How the hell do I navigate a relationship when I’ve never felt this need to rely on her like I do?
I don’t want to rely on Wren, I want towanther, not need her.
“Will a hundred of each be enough?” Nigel asks, pulling me from my own thoughts.
“Should be fine.” I pull out my wallet. “I’ll pay for it now.”
Nigel holds a hand up. “Oh, no, mister.”
“Why not?”
“Because you doing this is enough for me.”
“Nigel, you’re talking about three hundred flowers. That’s not cheap, you can’t just give that away for free.”
“Are you going to be charging Wren for those pumpkins she ordered from you?” Nigel asks with a smirk.
Okay, he’s got me there. I don’t think I was ever planning on charging her for those.
He chuckles when he sees my face. “The things we do for the ones we care about sometimes come across as crazy.”
“Are you saying you care about me?”
His expression softens and the sympathy swims clear in his eyes. “August, you and your brothers were the closest I ever came to having sons. How could I not care about you?”
Huh. “I had no idea.”
He moves from behind the counter, quite spritely for an old man. He places a comforting hand on my shoulder which is thankfully no longer hurting. Though I refuse to tell Doctor Shakari that the bed rest was a good idea.
People touching me makes me uncomfortable and a lot of the time, angry, but when it comes to Nigel and Simone, you can tell that every touch is filled with care and appreciation, so I let it happen.
“August.” When he sees my face, he corrects himself. “Gus. I know it’s been hard for you. You lost Caroline, your father left, and you’ve always struggled to get people to understand that despite being independent, you still see the world differently than we do. I understand that doing that has led you to shut yourself off, push people away, but I always knew it was temporary. All you needed to do was actually believe that you were deserving of love, even if there were people around you who refused to give it. It doesn’t matter if you struggle with certain things, because the right people will appreciate that it’s what makes you who you are. Simone and I will always appreciate you for who you are, that will never change, son.”
Nigel’s words aren’t what make my eyes start to sting with unshed tears. It’s the fact that in that one speech alone, Nigel sounds more like a father than mine ever did. I don’t think I realized that the town’s rejections ever made me feel unworthy of acceptance, but that’s exactly how it’s always felt. I think because I know that there are some things that make being around me a little difficult, I mistook that for me being difficult and therefore unworthy of anything. But who the fuck isn’t difficult sometimes?
So what if I’m a picky eater? So what if loud noises make me want to scream? Because of that, I deserve to be alone my whole life?
“You’re right,” I say to Nigel, my chest swelling with something I can’t yet explain.
“You’re damn right I am,” he smiles. “Now here.” He picks up a yellow rose and hands it to me. “Go and tell that woman how you feel.”
* * *
I can’t give her the rose.
I’ve been so nervous about talking to her that I’ve unknowingly been crushing it in my fist. The now-crumpled flower lays on my passenger seat. How am I fucking this up already?
Leaving the rose where it is, I hop out of my truck, making sure to lock it behind me. I head into the Locke and Key where Sam and Jamie are already sat at the bar, sitting too close for any two people with nothing going on between them. Bash and Oakleigh are arguing over whether or not one of them potted the white ball in a game of pool. And as for Wren… she sits exactly where we sat last time, and the memories come flooding back from that night; the feel of her hand as my fingers brush against it, the way she shivered as I whispered in her ear that I wanted to bring her home with me.
