Page 10 of Back in the Country
MARLEE
Despite my love for my childhood house, I didn’t sleep well last night. Thoughts of Waylon and the future danced in my head until I could barely stand it. Throwing off the covers, I pad my way down the hall to the bathroom. The wood plank floors are cool beneath my feet and creak with every step. Even in the quiet of the morning, I still feel the love radiating from the walls.
My grandparents took my brother and me in without question. They loved us fiercely to make up for the way our parents cast us aside. They never made us feel like we were a burden. Their deaths, only six months apart right after I graduated from college, hurt more than my parents’ betrayal.
The pictures that line the hallways are a timeline of our life here—sporting events, graduations, and days at the lake—all have their place next to pictures of Gran and Pop’s wedding and their life before us. Whenever I look at these memories, my heart swells in my chest. I’ve never taken for granted all the sacrifices that have been made for me and the love that was so freely given here.
After finishing in the bathroom, I dress quickly and head down to Rhea’s bakery, The Poppy Seed. It’s this adorable little storefront painted a deep teal color with a bright yellow door. The sign is black metal and stands out against the crisp white trim.
“Hey girl.” Rhea’s face lights up as I let myself in the back door. She won’t open for another hour, but the place already smells amazing. The upbeat sounds of Billy Currington’s “That’s How Country Boys Roll”fills the entire space as Rhea bops around to the beat. She’s covered in flour despite wearing a pink apron with white cats printed on it.
Rhea’s dark hair is cut just above her shoulders and falls in cute waves like Mama’s. Her blue eyes sparkle as she looks me over, a smile tugging on her lips.
“How are you this morning?” She tilts her head to the side. “You don’t look very rested.”
I sigh. There are literallynosecrets in this town and especially not among the Thayers.
“We didnotspend the night together if that’s what you’re not trying to be subtle about.”
She snorts as she mixes the chocolate chip oatmeal cookies in the bowl in front of her. No doubt Otto and Case couldn’t keep their mouths shut about seeing usalmostmaking out on my porch.
Jerks.
“He’s taking me out tonight.”
“Like on a date?”
Biting my bottom lip, I nod and grin like a lunatic. I can’t help it though. Rhea’s smile matches mine because sheknowswhat this means to me.
“I’m happy for you, girl.”
“Hopefully it works out this time.”
Placing a cup of coffee in front of me, Rhea shakes her head. She’s the only one that I told about Waylon taking my v-card.
“You know my brother is crazy about you. He always has been. He was a moody jerk while you were with Caleb.”
I sigh, and she drops the spoon into the empty bowl. Somehow during my daydreaming, she managed to prep an entire tray of chocolate chip oatmeal cookies for the oven.
Rhea makes thebestcookies. My mouth waters as I watch her swap trays and place the hot one on the tray stand to cool. She points an accusing finger at me.
“You gotta wait to have one.” I pout and she laughs. I missed her so much. There’s no substitute for being face-to-face with someone when you’re sharing laughter and tears. Rhea isn’t just my friend; she’s been my sister since I was seven years old.
It’s not lost on me that my job is staring at a computer all day, and maybe it’sbecausethat’s my job that I crave human contact.
“So, now that I’m home…” I pause and she nods to me while measuring flour for a new batch of something delicious. “What are your thoughts on me revamping your website and social media presence?”
Her laughter fills the kitchen, and the sparkle is back in her eyes. “How long have you been waiting to ask me?” She looks at the clock on the wall. “You’ve only been home for…less than twenty-four hours.”
I throw a wadded-up napkin in her direction that she dodges with ease.
“I’m offended by your insinuation.”
She snorts. “No, you’re not.”
I’m really not. But Iamdying to get my hands on her web presence.
“Please?” I clasp my hands like I’m praying and bat my eyelashes real dramatic like.
