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The melancholy grows as I realize that for the first time in my life I’ll be alone for more than a day or two at a time. I went straight from living with my mom to living with Jared and Emma. I’ve never really been alone. I can’t say I love the prospect.
It’s late and I’m reading on the couch again to distract myself from the loneliness when I feel something cold drip on the top of my head. I look up in confusion. As I stare up at the old waterstain on the ceiling trying to figure out if I imagined something falling on my head, another fat droplet hits me square in the eye. “Ah!” I exclaim, standing quickly and wiping at my eye.
“I swear, if I get pink eye I’m going to kill Jared,” I grumble to myself while I scurry to the kitchen to grab a large bowl. I push the couch out of the way and place the bowl directly under where the drip nearly took my eye out.
Tonight is the first time it’s rained in a while, and of course, it’s supposed to pour for the next few days. The last time we had a storm like this, it leaked in the same spot. Jared told me he would fix it; it hasn’t rained since then, so I assumed he had taken care of it. California isn’t exactly known for rain, so it’s been a while since our last storm.
I look at the clock and see that it’s just about eight, so I pull out my phone to give him a call. “Hello,” he answers after a couple of rings. I can hear Emma splashing in the tub in the background.
“Hey, Jared. I know I’m calling a bit early, but I needed to talk to you before I talk to Emma.”
“Oh, sure,” he says with trepidation, “What’s up?” The sounds of Emma’s splashing dims as he moves away from the tub.
“Well, the roof is leaking again. Same spot.”
“Shit.”
“Yeah. So, listen, did you ever try to fix it?” I ask.
“I meant to look at it sooner. Sorry. With us—with everything going on, I just forgot. Hold on, I was going to call a local contractor to take a look. My coworker, Ben, gave me this guy’s card after he and his wife redid their bathroom. I think it's still in my wallet. I’ll take a picture of it and send it to you.” Rustling invades the quiet as I can hear him pulling out his wallet and shuffling through the contents. Within a minute my phone vibrates with the picture.
“Okay, thanks. Don’t worry about it. If I get pink eye though, you’re footing the bill.”
“Pink eye?” he asks, confused.
“Never mind,” I laugh, “Listen, is Emma done with her bath yet? I’ll say goodnight if she is.”
“Yeah, she’s just getting out now. I’ll let you FaceTime her while she finishes getting ready.” He video chats me, and I spend the next fifteen minutes hanging with my daughter as she brushes her teeth and gets comfy in bed. Despite the motion sickness that comes along with a six year old handling a video call, my heart aches so hard, I have to rub the spot to ease it.
CHAPTER 3
Summer
The next morning I get ready for work, putting on slacks that compliment my curves, nipping in at the waist and smoothing out my lower belly. It wasn’t a point of contention for me until I had my C-section. After that, my stomach never looked the same, and it became one of my biggest insecurities. I pair the slacks with a top that has an asymmetrical neckline and grab my favorite heels. I check myself in the mirror one last time, making sure everything is in place and that I didn’t forget to put mascara on (like I’ve been known to do).
Before leaving for work, I dump out the half-full bowl of water and put it back under the drip. I really hope that someone will be able to come out soon and fix the leak. I shudder to think of the mold that moisture like that could grow. I vow to call the contractor on my lunch break. I grab my bag, coat, and umbrella before going through the door to the garage.
Despite the rain, it’s a quick drive to First Bank of Lakeland. One of the biggest perks of living in a small town is that it only takes fifteen minutes max to get anywhere. I push through the door, deposit my umbrella in the stand that's older than me, andgo to greet Sherry, the only coworker who got here before me today.
Sherry has been a teller at FBL for nearly thirty years. The job satisfies her nosy tendencies, since you tend to learn a lot about people when you’re in charge of their money. We’re usually the first to know who got fired, who’s getting divorced, and if someone is moving or making a big purchase. If you pay attention (like Sherry), you can put all the pieces together to form the picture of someone’s life. She’s the one who trained me when I first got hired right after graduation. I wave to her before I set my things in the break room and head to my station.
“Hey, doll!” She gives me a quick, pearly-white smile and turns to her computer where she’s pulled up a game of solitaire, smacking soundly on the ever-present piece of gum in her mouth. She used to be a smoker, but the oral fixation never went away after she quit. She always smells like classic Hubba Bubba mixed with Chanel No. 5 and it surprisingly works for her.
I turn on my computer and get my station set up for the day. Being a bank teller isn’t a glamorous job, but it's one I enjoy. The fact that I have a steady routine and get to chat with different people all day is something I really love.
Mark and Rachel, my coworker and boss, burst through the door and we all focus on getting the bank ready to open by nine. I switch out our promotional posters hanging in the large front windows and finally manage to take down the Easter decorations that have been hanging around for far too long. I stuff them into the decorations bin in the storage closet and mourn the empty look of the bank. Even though the Easter decorations were a little tacky, they provided a break from the boring, practical, beige color scheme. Soon, Mark flips the sign to “open” and the first customers start to trickle in.
By twelve, I’m just about ready to take my lunch when I hear the door jingle cheerily to herald the arrival of another customer. I paste a bright smile on my face and use my best customer servicevoice before even looking up from the loan application I’m reviewing. “Hi! Welcome to First Bank, what can I do for you?” As I finally look up, my smile falters when I lay my eyes on the most gorgeous man I have ever seen in this small town. And he’s walking right toward me. I blink and renew the smile that slipped, not wanting to obviously ogle the man.
His striking green eyes catch mine from under a baseball cap, which he’s pulled low over his brow in an attempt to contain the dark waves that just brush his collar. My eyes track over his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and big hands. I try my best not to swoon. I’m a hand girl, what can I say? “You’re new,” I blurt out. It’s a small town, so I’m pretty sure I would have seen him around and I definitely would have remembered him.
I’m silently thanking god that it’s Sherry’s turn to grab food for everyone before the weekly meeting. She would be incorrigible around this man.
His answering laugh is low and smoky and delicious. “You can say that. I grew up around here, but I moved away freshman year of high school. I just got back into town.” He approaches my station and leans forward just a bit, resting his hip on the counter. I inhale and smell a whiff of something warm and spicy, making me want to lean in closer.
I right myself when I realize I’m leaning over the counter like a plant starved for sun.Be normal,I command myself. “I’ve lived here my whole life. Never got to see much outside of Lakeland, but I can’t complain. It’s a good place to live. What brings you back?”
“Work, actually. I’m a contractor and found a job working under Davidson Construction here in town. I was sort of traveling around, doing odd jobs here and there, and finally decided to settle down somewhere. My sister is also close by in Springview, so I figured Lakeland was a good place to set down some roots. It’s got the perfect small-town feel. I missed it.”
