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MERCY
I’m up to my neck in boxes of Christmas decorations used annually for the holiday fair. From the looks of things, the collection has been growing since before I was born, but there are gems hidden among the chaos so I’m not dismissing a single box unless I peek inside first.
“Tell me again what we’re looking for?” Chase asks from across the large storage room.
“Any and all string lights,” I say, my hand held up to keep count on my fingers while I try to remember myself. “Sparkly things that are decoratively neutral, ribbons, garlands and candles.”
“So, no on the fake poinsettias?” he asks, holding up a pair of potted plants.
“Yeah, no on those.” I crinkle my nose at the sight. They’re faded and ripped in places. Definitely not the look I’m going for if I can help it.
“Then this stack of boxes can be eliminated from our scavenging,” he announces, shoving a tower of three cardboard boxes into the corner behind him to clear them out of our way.
“Three down, about a hundred to go.” I sigh, trying not to get overwhelmed by the sheer amount of stuff in here. I bend down to examine a trash bag at my feet filled with more of the unknown when I hear the door scrape along the floor as it’s opened, and a new voice joins the conversation.
“Heard you could use some extra muscle in here,” Wade says as he steps inside.
I’m upright again in an instant. “We could.” I don’t know who I was hoping Camden would send, but it wasn’t Wade. I glance uncomfortably over at Chase, who’s already stepping out of his labyrinth of boxes to shake Wade’s hand.
“I don’t think we’ve met,” he says, smiling. “I’m Chase, Mer’s boyfriend.”
“Wade.” He grins back at him, then his eyes travel poignantly to meet mine as his hand clasps Chase’s. “Good to meet you, Mer’s boyfriend.” He exaggerates ‘Mer’ when he says it, but I ignore him and move on to more important things.
“Wade and I grew up together,” I offer before Chase has a chance to ask.
“Yeah?” Chase’s eyes light up. “Maybe you can entertain us with some old tales of Mer while we work. I’d love to hear more about what she was like when she was younger.”
“I don’t know how entertaining that’d be,” I cut in before Wade can answer, but it doesn’t stop him from adding his two cents.
“What are you talking about? We could fill an entire book just with stories of our drunken camping trip.” He laughs, peeling back the flaps of the box nearest him. “Also, what am I here to do exactly?”
“Drunken camping trip, huh?” Chase eyes me curiously. I can’t say I blame him. Neither drunken nor camping sounds remotely relatable to me in any way.
“It was high school,” I explain, hoping to dismiss the topic all together before Wade has a chance to pursue it further. “And we’re hunting for lights and decorations we can use.”
“Lights. String lights?” Wade clarifies staring down into the open box before him. “Because I think I just hit the mother lode.”
“Yes!” I scoot around the obstacle course in here to see for myself. “Oh, these are perfect.”
Wade pulls a fistful out. “Yeah. Just as soon as we untangle them.”
“I can do that,” I volunteer. “Think you can move the box over by the wall near the outlet? That way I can plug them in and make sure they work as I go through them.”
He nods, already hoisting it from the stack. “You got it.”
As soon as he gets me set up, he moves along to the next box. For a few minutes we all work in silence, focused on our search.
“So, you were saying about going camping?” Chase asks, casually perusing what appears to be a box of ornaments. Meanwhile, I think my heart just lodged itself in my throat. “Was it a school trip? A senior thing?”
Wade laughs. “Not exactly.” He seals up the most recent box he’s been digging through and moves it out of the way to reach the one beneath it. “It was more like a Mercy-and-Wade-are-out-to-piss-off-their-significant-others thing.”
“Oh?” Chase is temporarily frozen in front of his open box, an ornament in each hand. Me, I’ve never worked more frantically at untangling Christmas lights in all my life.
“I’d been dating this girl Sasha and, honestly, we were doomed from the get-go but I wasn’t willing to accept it at the time, even if she was constantly stringing me along, running back and forth between me and this guy named Lee. He was a couple years older, already at college and I guess that was enticing to her in some way,” Wade carries on about his romantic woes so thoroughly I almost start to hope he’ll skim over mine altogether. “Then this one Friday night, she stands me up at the last minute to go run off with Lee again, and this time, I’d had enough. Meanwhile,” he goes on, now pointing at me and I know all hope is lost, “Mercy was ready to stick it to Frank for refusing to go up to New York with her for her cousin’s wedding, and then having the nerve to up and leave to participate in a roping event two counties over smack in the middle of their argument. So, as you can imagine, we made quite the pair.” He chuckles at the memory. Under other circumstances, I’d be doing the same, but this is no laughing matter. Chase is about to land right in the piece of my past I’ve worked hardest to avoid.
“Wait, Frank?” Chase looks to me and I know he’s putting the pieces together. “As in your neighbor, Frank?”
“You know how it is,” Wade answers for me. “Boy always falls for the girl next door.”
I shrug helplessly. “We were kids and it was forever ago. I just didn’t think it was worth getting into. Now, he’s just my neighbor.”
Chase accepts my answer for now, though I can tell from the wrinkle in his forehead, he’s not pleased with this newest revelation. “So, this weekend you two went camping. You ended up getting together?” he asks abrasively, clearly anticipating the worst.
“God, no!” Wade sounds as disgusted as I feel. “I mean, even if she hadn’t been my best friend’s girl, that would have just been plain wrong.”
Chase’s face contorts yet again. “Frank is your best friend?”
“Yep,” Wade confirms, acting oblivious to everyone else’s discomfort. “Didn’t stop me from siding with Mercy that weekend though. So, off we went. Into the woods with every bottle of bourbon we could swipe from my grandfather’s liquor cabinet.”
“What did you do?” Chase asks, though he hardly sounds prepared to get an answer.
“Got stupid drunk. Cursed a lot. Wound up stripping naked and running through the forest, howling at the moon before we started puking and eventually passed out.” He lifts another box from the pack. “Found a stash of golden bows the size of my head. You want ‘em?”
“Uh-huh.” I can’t even look him in the eyes right now. Can’t look anyone in the eye maybe ever again.
Then, to make matters worse, the door to the storage room opens again.
“Camden wants to know if you’ve given any thoughts to a wedding dress,” Frank calls into the room before he even makes it all the way in.
“Bryce is going by Madeline’s. She said we could borrow hers,” I mumble, cheeks stinging red hot.
“I’ll let Cam know.” He turns to leave again when Wade stops him.
“Frank, wait up.” Wade stacks two boxes from our designated wedding corner and hands them off to him. “Take a few boxes with you. We could use the space in here.”
Frank grunts something inaudible as he takes the load from Wade, and then he’s gone again.
Silence sets in among the three of us while we continue to search, but it’s heavy with tension and unspoken questions. Not to mention the dread pouring from every ounce of my being.
At long last, I finish sorting the lights. “Wade, can you take these out to Cam and MaryBeth, please? They’ll know what to do with them.”
He nods and grabs the box, along with two others filled with usable decorations. “You need me back in here anymore?” he asks as he’s leaving.
“No, I think we’re about done.” We have plenty as it is. I’m only hanging back for a moment of privacy. Chase and I need to talk before we go back out there and cross paths with any more stories that include me and Frank.
The door falls shut behind Wade and I half expect Chase to pounce on me with his questions. Instead, he keeps his mouth shut, eyes only on the Christmas garlands he’s digging through in search of some not permanently Christmas-fied.
He’s going to make me do the hard work. Which is fine. I owe him that much.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” I say quietly, dragging over an open box of wreaths I dismissed early on in my search, and folding the flaps back down so I can sit on top of it. “I’ve just never had both sides of my life overlap like this before. I don’t know how to do it.”
“This has nothing to do with two side of your life, Mer. Everyone has exes. It’s not like I expected to be the first guy you ever dated.” He sighs, sliding boxes out of his path with the side of his foot. “But it would have been nice to know I was in the company of one. And it would have been nicer still to hear it from you.”
I wince. “I know. And I’m sorry. I should have just told you.” I take a deep breath. There’s still more I need to tell him. “I also should have let you know that it was Frank who took me out to The Rose today when his father couldn’t make it.”
Chase stops midstep. “So...you two spent the day together?”
“No,” I insist. “I spent most of my time with Kirsten.”
“But you rode together,” he confirms. “You must have talked.”
“Sure, we talked.” That could hardly be avoided. “But he’s still my neighbor, Chase. I’m always going to talk to him when our paths cross. I’ve known his family my whole life. We’ve always looked out for each other.”
Chase nods, slowly moving toward me again. “Why did it end? You and Frank? Why did you break up?”
Finally, a question I can answer without hesitation. “He cheated on me. There wasn’t any going back after that.”
“That’s why you left. Why you went to New York,” he concludes, as if Frank’s betrayal drove me away.
“No.” I shake my head. “I was looking at colleges the weekend it happened. Leaving was already part of the plan.” My mother’s plan, but that doesn’t matter now. It became my plan, too, eventually. “After what he did, I just didn’t have much reason to come back.”
Chase comes to sit beside me. He takes my hand, twining his fingers through mine, both of us glancing down at our hands molded together as one.
“Well, I’m sorry he hurt you,” he says softly, “but I’m grateful, too. Because it led you to me. Led to us.”
I lift my gaze and meet his, smiling. “I’m grateful for that too.”
––––––––
FRANK
“She didn’t tell him,” Wade mutters as he walks up beside me in the hall, carrying a load of folding chairs equal to mine.
“Who didn’t tell who what?” I could guess, but I’d rather not take my mind down any unnecessary twists it doesn’t have to go through.
He elbows me to turn at the open door. I wouldn’t have missed it if he hadn’t started talking.
“Mercy,” he says curtly, lowering the chairs to lean against the wall. “Didn’t tell her new guy about you.”
“I didn’t realize she was supposed to.” I drop my load beside his and start unfolding the chairs, setting them up so the girls can come and arrange them in whatever fashion they want when they’re ready.
“You don’t think it’s a little weird that she would skip telling her new beau about her old beau, when they’re both staying at the same place and bound to cross paths?”
“I think our past should stay in the past.” I flip a chair open so harshly it almost flies from my grip. “Obviously, she was thinking the same thing.” I pause, standing up straight and staring directly at him. “Why can’t you let this go?”
“Because I can’t.” He stops what he’s doing as well. “Because I know it’s not over. Not by a long shot.”
“You’re more invested in this than I am, Wade,” I point out. “Doesn’t that tell you all you need to know?”
“That’s because I don’t hate you like you do,” he says grimly, “and I still think you deserve to be happy even if you don’t.”
“I don’t hate me.”
“Yeah, you do.” He straightens his shoulders and places both hands on his hips. “The thing I really don’t get, is how you hate yourself for something you didn’t even do.”
I turn away and get back to unfolding what’s left of the chairs. “That’s not it.”
“Then what is it?”
“I hurt her.”
“But you only even did it to give her what you thought she wanted.”
I stop again. “Yeah, but it still hurt her.”
He frowns. “So, you hurt her to set her free, to give her the life she wants...and she gets it. And you get what?”
I shrug, sighing. “I get to live with it.”