I never stopped thinking about you.

  “He does still look really good.”

  “Emma.” I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

  “I’m just sayin’.” She laughs and I catch the look she and Lucy share. As if the choice is so easy. Like I don’t have two littles to think about and like I didn’t just roll out of the worst relationship I could imagine. Correction, I’m still trapped in the hell that is known as Carson.

  “Yes, fine, he looks good. He’s got charm by the pound, and still knows exactly how to get to me without much effort. His smile is even better than I remember but the truth still stands. I don’t have it in me to dive into anything new. I’m exhausted you guys.” I look between the two of them. “Emotionally I can’t take it. I wish I could bounce back from this; I wish I could say to hell with it all and give in to the things he still makes me feel but it wouldn’t be fair. To him or to me, I wouldn’t be giving it my all.”

  Neither of them tries to argue because though they’ve been right here with me, they can’t say they know exactly how I feel. Thankfully neither of them made the wrong choice and married the wrong man. My heart breaks for Riley and Regan, they deserved a loving father and instead they got a pathetic drunk.

  After Emma and Lucy leave, and I’ve had my fill of wine, I gather my lavender bath salts and walk into the bathroom. Turning on the faucet, I sprinkle it into the water and swirl them around in the water.

  Grabbing a towel, and my robe, I lay them both over the edge of the counter and walk back into my bedroom.

  Pausing next to my open closet door, I catch a glimpse of the blue shoebox tucked up on the top shelf. Reaching up, I grab the edge and pull it down before carrying it into the bathroom. Sitting down on the side of the tub I lift the lid and immediately am met with the familiar scent I’ve always found comforting. A hidden bottle a Jayson cologne tucked beneath all the little notes and dried up corsage from prom.

  I lift the bottle to my nose and close my eyes breathing it in. There is barely anything left, a bottle I took from his dresser a week before he left for college. I’m not even sure he knew that I had it, but I’ve held onto it all these years.

  At first I had it on my dresser, smelling it daily and remembering him, it made me feel closer to him even though we were hundreds of miles apart. Then the times became fewer as the smell only made me miss him more.

  When we decided to break up, I was half tempted to throw it away, but I’m glad I didn’t. Carson never knew, as it was one of the few things I decided to leave at my parents.

  I spray it into the air and the moment the scent filters through my room I feel the tears build in my eyes.

  Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s regret, but suddenly I find it hard to hold back. Slipping into the water, I do something that I haven’t done in months. I cry, not the ugly, snot nosed cry but more of a cleansing. It’s time to let go of the burning ache inside.

  nine

  . . .

  Jayson

  “I’m not so sure she isn’t a ticking bomb ready to explode,” Mattie rocks back in the chair, kicking his feet up onto my desk. “The ex is an ass, Jay. I’m talking drunk ninety-five percent of the time, stepped out on her more times than most could count. He was banging some nineteen-year-old while Zoey was in the hospital giving birth to his daughters.” My stomach tightens and coils with irritation. “From what I heard he didn’t even want her to have the girls. He tried to persuade her to get rid of them after she found out she was pregnant.”

  “Sounds like a real piece of work,” I mumble feeling like a dick now for hitting her with everything I did. “And I go barging in like she doesn’t have enough shit going on. Why did I let you get to me?”

  “Hey, don’t blame me.” He chuckles. “I didn’t tell you to storm the castle and demand her hand.”

  “I didn’t demand her hand.”

  “I am Tarzan, you my Jane.” He pounds his chest, his smile growing wider. The asshole is greatly enjoying my torment.

  “Dick.” I try to sound annoyed but the truth is I’ve missed my cocky little brother. Believe it or not he makes me braver. Him pushing does drive me to do things I’d normally refrain from but not all of it is bad.

  After a few minutes of playing mad, I can’t help but point out the obvious. “So Zoey’s talking about me?” I smirk when he nods his head.

  “She called an emergency Wine-Down-Wednesday, on a Saturday night.”

  “A wine down what?”

  Her chuckles, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s something that Zoey, Emma and Lucy do. Normally it’s a Wednesday night event, held at Zoey’s place because of the girls’ bedtimes. They have dinner, get the little ones to bed. Then they break out the wine and the three of them bash on guys,” he arches his brow as if to tell me something. “They talk about their lives both the good and the bad. Emma told me they ordered an oversized purple dildo and had it mailed to Carson at his work after they hit the tequila pretty hard a few weeks ago.”

  The thought makes me smile.

  “Last night though, after you showed up laying it all at her feet, she left the shop and sent out an emergency text.”

  “Does that happen often?”

  “What the part of men showing up claiming to love her or the emergency Wine-Down.”

  “First off, I didn’t declare love but yeah, okay fine I still love her, but you know that already. Second, I told her I missed her and I never stopped thinking about her.”

  He waves his hands as if they all mean the very same thing and puts his feet back up on my desk. I find myself wondering how on earth Emma hasn’t pummeled him already. Mattie is Mattie, you either love him or want to strangle him.

  “The Wine-Down seems to be happening more often lately with Carson dragging Zoey through the mud.”

  “How so?” I push his feet off my desk as I pass and sit down in my chair opposite him.

  “She left everything behind when she moved back here after the girls were born. Took only their stuff and her clothes. She doesn’t want any of it back, she just wants the divorce, but he is dragging it out, fighting child support and shit.”

  “What an ass.”

  “Like I said he doesn’t want them, but it’s like he doesn’t want anyone else to have them either. She’s living in a rental property her parents own and refusing to live there for free. From what Emma says Zoey’s dad just takes the money and has been piling it in an account for her and the girls without Zoey’s knowledge.”

  “That sounds like her father,” Tom Harding was always a proud man.

  “Took her awhile to move forward with the divorce. She was depressed, had two babies to care for. She lived with her parents for a couple years, then her father fixed up a rental property he’d bought. Fresh paint, new carpeting, the works. Hired Dean to go in and make it nice, then he tried to give it to Zoey. Her being proud like him refused the gift but agreed to pay rent on it.” Mattie’s words fill my mind, as I envision everything he describes. “Then she asked Carson for a divorce, he pulled this, you move back home and we’ll see if we can make it work, crap.”

  I lift my gaze to meet Mattie’s thinking he’s about to tell me how she went back to her husband and I’m not so sure I want to hear this part of the story.

  “She laughed in his face, probably damaged his poor little ego. Zoey’s been going through this for more than a year now, the back and forth with the attorneys, from what Emma says she is emotionally drained and is just trying to make it through each day.”

  Of course now I feel like even more of an ass. Barging in the way I did, thinking my actions would somehow erase the last thirteen years. “She says the girl I knew all those years ago is gone.”

  “Maybe she is,” Mattie stands and I do the same.

  “She’s not,” I assure him. “I just think her asshole ex managed to take away her shine. She’s buried beneath all the shit he dropped at her feet.”

  “Then maybe you should polish her,” Mattie chuckles as her waggles his brows suggestively.

  “You’re a pig,” I shove his shoulder.

  “Tell me you weren’t thinking the same thing.”

  “I wasn’t.” Not the exact same thing he suggested anyway.

  “Bullshit,” he hurries after me kicking at my feet trying to make me stumble. It’s like we are two teenagers all over again. It’s just one of the many things I’ve come to realize I’ve missed. Being close to family, being in a place that makes me feel settled and secure.

  For the first time in years I feel like I’m home again.

  “Dr. Lincoln,” I look up from my phone when my name is called. A dark-haired girl with a sweet smile stands behind the counter holding my coffee and a small bag. “Your orders ready,” she adds.

  Tucking my phone back into my pocket I move in and take them both from her. “Thank you,” she bites her lip and watches me beneath her long lashes.

  “You’re welcome,” the corner of her mouth tips up in a smile.

  Offering her a nod, I turn around to leave and find Lemon standing in the line behind me. One brow arched I feel like I’m being scolded by the principal.

  “Morning doctor,” she offers trying to tame her smile.

  “Good morning Ms. Walsh,” I move around her pausing at her side. “Watch that one,” I nod toward the brunette that is still standing behind the counter watching me. “She likes to flirt.”

  Lemon laughs, then quickly brings her hand up to hide her smile. “I think I’m safe,” she says in a low voice, still looking toward the girl. “Little Miss Perky seems to have her eyes set on you.”

  “Maybe,” I shrug, “but I’ve already got mine set on someone else.” Confessing this seems simple and I’m sure with this small town Lemon already knows all about my trip to Zoey’s.

  “How is Zoey these days?” she asks, her eyes softening, as she glances over at me looking genuine. "And the girls?”

  “I wish I could say that I know.” I’m glad she’s got Lucy and Emma. But I admit, it’d be nice if she let me in. But I get it, doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying.

  “Give her time,” she shrugs. “After all he ex put her through, it’s no wonder she’s gun shy. She’ll remember what it was like with you, and she’ll be able to separate the feelings she has now, with the ones she felt when she was with you. Just might take a little time, but don’t give up.”

  Her name is called and she excuses herself to grab her coffee as I sneak outside. Taking a deep breath of the morning air I start walking in the direction of the office, hoping what Lemon said is right.

  ten

  . . .

  Zoey

  “Hold still,” Riley tells me and I try to, I truly do, but it tickles. “Mommy,” she scolds me with the whole hand on her hip and a narrowed look in her eyes.

  Immediately I glance over at Lucy to find her in a similar position with Regan. She is doing all she can to hold back her own laughter. Lucy being the perfect client and me, fighting it at every turn.

  “It tickles baby,” I tell her then stick my tongue out at Lucy. She laughs but does it very carefully.

  “Suck up,” I whisper and again she laughs.

  Riley and Regan decided they wanted to have a makeover day and at first, I was their only client, then Lucy showed up and got pulled into the activity, without a choice.

  When she finally turns her head look at me, I can’t help but laugh and she does the very same thing. She has purple eye shadow, the pinkest cheeks, teetering on the verge of red and her lipstick, is purple, or maybe its fuchsia. What I do know is its horrid and I’ve never used the color myself. I’m not even sure where it came from, mostly likely it’s from the stash Gigi gave them.

  “You look like Ursula,” Lucy says, laughing so hard she is bent over in the chair. Regan is tugging on her arm and when she looks up, she has tears streaming down her cheeks. “Oh my God, Zoey,” she cries out, unable to regain her composure. “It’s so beautiful,” she lies but I know she is doing it for the benefit of the girls. “We’re like models,” she adds, still holding her sides. “I think we needs pictures,” she grabs her phone and I glare at her.

  “Yes!” Regan claps her hands and starts to jump up and down happily.

  “No, I think we should keep this perfection to ourselves,” I am barely holding on to my own laughter.

  At this point Lucy is laughing so incredibly hard she is snorting.

  Riley runs over and takes Lucy’s phone, waking it using her password. I stare at her, words escaping me as I wonder how on earth my child knows this information.

  “She’s observant.” Lucy shrugs like it’s no big deal and together Riley and Regan start snapping pictures. They are smushing up their lips, as if they are the ones posing for the pictures. I have no doubt these images will one day haunt me.

  But to see the smiles on their faces makes it all worth it.

  I stand, striking a pose, placing my hand on my hip, and tipping my chin up to the ceiling, making a kissy face to bring attention to my lips. As if I really need to. I haven’t seen myself but from the way Lucy looks, I can only imagine it’s quite the show.

  Lucy is dancing around, continuously pausing, in crazy poses, blowing kisses at the girls, making them giggle and squeal.

  Suddenly I hear laughter behind us and I spin around only to be met with not only Emma, but Mattie who stands by her side. His eyes are wide, and what does he do? He pulls out his phone and snaps his own picture.

  “Oh this is definitely getting framed,” he chuckles, tapping away on his phone and I am momentarily frozen in place.

  “Why do the two of you look as if you’re about to audition for the traveling circus?”

  “They look beeeutiful,” Riley insists, staring ahead at Emma as if she is daring her to disagree.

  “You are right,” she says instead. Sometimes it frightens me how Riley and Emma seem to always be so in tuned with each other. If my girl is this sassy and free willed now, I see a lot of butting heads in our future. “They look incredible.”

  “You’re turn,” they grab Emma’s hands and start tugging her toward the awaiting chair.

  “I’m out,” Mattie says with a wave. “Enjoy your makeover,” he tells Emma.

  “Grab me a few photos when she’s done,” he tells me with a wink, then ducks out without another word.

  “Fix me up,” Emma tells the girls as she rubs her hands together eagerly and settles into the chair. Lucy and I watch, smiling and trying not to laugh. And when she too looks like her own version of a wicked Disney character, we all three line up side by side and allow my girls to express the joy they feel from their masterpieces.

  Us, we are the masterpieces, or disasters, however you want to look at it.

  “Do you think you can drop me off at Below Deck?” My father asks from his place at the kitchen table.

  “Having some work done to the boat?” My father has a boat as old as him. I get the sentimental value as it was a gift from my grandad, but truth is the thing is a mess. I think it’s in the shop more than its not.

  Thankfully he has a friend in Decker Black who now owns the Below Deck Boat repair. His grandfather Vernon owned it prior to him and they take care of my father without trying to persuade him to scrap the old beater. Which is exactly what he should be doing.

  “Just a few little things, nothing big,” he insists but when I meet my mother’s gaze and she rolls her eyes, I know he’s sugarcoating the real issue. I don’t ask though, it’s better that way.

  “Sure,” I finish the coffee in my cup. “As long as I’m at the shop by one, to meet with Rosemary Walsh.”

  “What’s Rosemary needing now?” My mother and Rosemary have clashed for years. But again, I don’t ask details. I’m afraid I’ll hear some stretched out tale of how it’s over some man, or worse a battle over my own dad. I prefer to remain oblivious on this matter.

  “We are making her granddaughters dress, for Melissa Elders wedding. It’s next month and it’s a custom design.”

  “Papa,” Regan interrupts the conversation and I am grateful. It would have been a long drug out bitch fest about how Rosemary walks around Magnolia Grove like the world owes her everything. I don’t want to hear it again; I could recite the complaint word for word by now.

  “Yes, baby.” My dad stands and rounds the table walking in my daughter’s direction. “Did you see we made snickerpoodles.”

  I smile, and notice my father does the same. But to him my girl hung the moon and the stars so he plays along beautifully.

  “I did sweetheart, because snickerpoodles are your papa’s favorite.”

  Regan grins wide, and my dad reaches over and picks up a still warm cookie. Bringing it to his mouth he takes a bite and makes an exaggerated mm sound.

  “Perfection,” he leans in placing a kiss to the top of Regan’s head before doing the same to Riley. I love how is with them, refusing to let them go a day without feeling his love.

  When he grabs another two cookies my mother eyes him.

  “For the road,” he grins, kissing her on the cheek. “Zoey’s taking me to pick up Edgar."

  Yes, he named his boat Edgar, or Ed and sometimes Eddie. Or there is POS which is my mother’s not so cute nickname for my fathers heap of junk.

  eleven

  . . .

  Jayson

  “Thanks,” I offer a nod to the waitress as she sets the next round of beers on the table. She winks, and I glance away to find not only Eric my best friend is smiling but so are Dean and Mattie. My brother and Dean Sullivan have been best friends for years. When we were younger it was like I had two brothers, the pair of them going everywhere together. Which also means he knows all about everything Mattie knows because my brother doesn’t believe in keeping any of my shit private. He loves to air my dirty laundry and use it against me. So when they are together they both find the joy in hassling me.