Series: Kristen Proby Crossover Collection
Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 69686 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69686 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
“Why do you do it?” I ask, surprising myself but curious for the answer.
“What, move around?”
“Yeah.”
She chews her bread and thinks about it. “I’ve always gotten itchy feet after I’ve been in a place for longer than a year. Maybe I get bored, I don’t know.”
I wait, wondering if she’ll continue because I don’t buy the boredom excuse.
“You know, I think I’ve been looking for what makes me happy.”
“And you haven’t found it yet?”
She shakes her head. “Apparently not. No city, no man has been able to keep me from wanting to move on. I guess I’m destined to be unhappy forever.”
“Maybe you’re looking too hard,” I say. “I guess that’s what I was doing, too. Traveling from place to place, trying to find something that felt real. Like I belonged there.”
Lacey listens intently, her fork hovering in the air.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever felt that way,” she says softly.
“I get it. Maybe I’m more like you than I thought.” I take a sip of water, thinking it over. “I loved Grandma so much, but I didn’t belong in Chicago. So, I left. But I never stayed in any one place long enough to be happy there. I lived in St. Louis, Charleston, Austin, and Denver before moving up here, but I only stayed for a year or less before packing up and leaving.
“I don’t know what happened here, exactly, except whenever I think of leaving, it makes me sad. I really love it here. And I’ve stayed long enough to plant some roots, make friends, make connections.”
“You have Noah.”
“Noah, and several friends. I’ve never been the kind of person to really connect with people on a deep level.”
“I’m the same.”
“And it’s lonely,” I continue, watching as tears form in her eyes. “I’ve found a place where I feel like I belong. I’m part of a community, and I feel important here.”
“I’m so happy for you, Fallon.” Lacey wipes a tear off her cheek. “I know I was a shitty mom. And I’m sorry for it.”
“You weren’t a mom, Lacey,” I remind her. “I don’t have any memories of you holding me or reading to me or teaching me.”
“I know.” She sniffs. She’s not crying to be manipulative. I think for the first time in her forty-seven years, Lacey is doing some soul-searching. “I was so scared of you. You were tiny, and I was a baby myself. Thank God for my mother.”
“Thank God for her,” I agree with a nod.
“I know it’s too late for me to be your mom.”
“Yeah,” I agree. I know I won’t ever have the same connection to Lacey as Noah has with his mother. “But it’s not too late to know me. We have time.”
“I’d really like that,” she says with a smile. “I’d love to be your friend. And when I leave today, it’s not going to be six years before you see me again.”
I smile, but I don’t believe her. I’ve heard it before. As much as Lacey says she wants a relationship with me, I just don’t think she’s capable of it.
But you never know.
We finish our lunch, and I walk her to her rental car. She pulls me in for a hug, a real one this time.
“Take care, Fallon. I’ll text you.”
“Okay. You take care, too. Have fun in Portland.”
She nods, already excited to get back on the road.
“Bye!”
And then she’s off, and I’m standing on the sidewalk, watching her drive away.
I walk into the heart of downtown where my studio is located, but rather than go right back to work, I stop into Dress It Up, my favorite clothing store in town.
Okay, it’s the only clothing store in town that isn’t centered around souvenirs. Willa Hull owns it and carries beautiful clothes and shoes.
She’s also one of the nicest people I know.
“Hey, Fallon,” Willa says when she sees me walk through the door. “Thank God, you’re saving me.”
“From what?”
“Boredom. I don’t know what’s happened, but I haven’t had a customer in over an hour. I can’t change the displays any more today.”
I grin and check out a green tank top. This one isn’t meant for working out. It’s soft and feminine, and I decide to buy it.
“Well, I was walking by on my way to the studio and thought I’d see if you have anything new.”
“Always,” she says with a smile. “Are you okay? You look like you have something on your mind. Let me make you some tea, and we can chat.”
My first instinct is to decline, but I quickly remind myself that these are my people, and Willa is my friend. So I smile and say, “That would be great.”
“I bought some of that tea you love at Drips & Sips,” she says as she brews a cup of hot water in her Keurig.
“You didn’t have to do that.”