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Heather
“So if you could just take on that project...” Janelle said Monday morning.
I laughed. “Funny.”
“What?” She grinned.
“You are totally trying to pull off a Bill Lumbergh thing there.”
She giggled, actually giggled. I knew Janelle was a serious boss when she had to be, but these snippets of her letting loose and being funny rounded her out. She was more than a supervisor. She had become more of a friend, especially after that lunch we shared recently.
“...That’d be great,” she wrapped up. “Mmmkay?” She raised her brows. “How’d I do.”
I waffled my hand. “Well, you need glasses, for one thing. And a little more nasally drawl.”
Smiling, she continued walking me back to my office. “You’re fun, Heather.”
“I am?”
“Oh, stop.” In my office now, she drew in a deep breath. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. After our lunch that other day, a lot more about you makes sense. You didn’t have a stellar childhood, and that leaves scars.”
Wow. A boss, friend, and shrink in one. I hit the jackpot with her.
“But you can grow into something new in an old, familiar setting too.” She winked. “I think you already are. Not everyone here has the same opinions about you.”
“Some do,” I countered as I sat.
“Some do,” she agreed. “I notice the older generation does particularly, but that’s not shocking. The older you are, the harder it is to change your way of thinking.”
At the mention of the word old, I couldn’t help but think back to how I’d called Roarke old. He wasn’t, not in a derogatory way. He was older than me, but I viewed that more as a difference in experiences that we’d had in our lives so far. As a difference in his skills mastered and responsibilities earned.
“But I also see others not making a big fuss about you or acting like you’re some kind of small-town villain.”
I nodded, starting to feel uncomfortable about this spontaneously chosen topic between us.
“You’re hard on yourself.”
“Guilty as charged. I think I became a perfectionist from an early age when I wanted people to not assume I was like my parents.”
“Which is understandable.” She pushed off the doorframe she’d been leaning against. “But, I think you need to also cut yourself some slack. Keep your guard up, but also take the time to acknowledge the good in life too.”
I nodded once. “Very sage. And well said.”
“You must unlearn what you have learned,” Nance called out from further in the office suite.
“What?” I called back. She was clearly eavesdropping.
Janelle shook her head and shrugged.
“Yoda—”
I groaned. Of course, it’d be a Star Wars quote.
“She’s not wrong though,” Janelle said. “Unlearn the rigid independence you’ve taught yourself to survive on.”
“Yes, master,” I called out to Nance. “And may the force be with you too.”
Janelle laughed lightly. “Anyway, that project. You can add it into your schedule however you please.”
“Thanks, and I will.”
She left me with that, giving me the lack of supervision I enjoyed and what she preferred. Janelle was not a micromanager at all, unlike the stuffy supervisors, yes, plural, that I had to deal with in Chicago.
I didn’t let myself dwell on the contrast between my life here and the one I briefly had in Chicago. I’d drive myself nuts if I did. There, I was busy, busy, busy, where a FOMO drove an unrealistic work drive. Here, it was a slower, leisure pace. While I was excited to have new projects and a variety of tasks given to me by Janelle, it was still nothing like what I’d ever thought I’d be doing with my life.
I set out after college to go onto bigger adventures and actual challenges. On the drive there, I’d been so excited, full of optimism that I would succeed no matter what I set my mind to. And then living there was a new experience to embrace on its own.
I did miss the city life. The never-ending sights and scenes that changed. The diversity of people who came and went through the metropolis.
But on the other hand...
I sighed as I tapped my fingers on my thigh, scooting my chair in further.
On the other hand, thinking of Chicago was synonymous with thoughts of my ex. David didn’t belong in my mind anymore. He was the sinister part of my city experience. He was the dark force there, if I had to lean on Nance’s mentality.
For not the first time, I let my thoughts wander further. They left me, veering into dangerous territory that I didn’t want to visit for long.
What if I’d stayed?
I couldn’t have, not with David, but I wondered if it might have ever been possible to relocate away from his control but still stay in Chicago. I doubted it. Even though it was such a big place, it would’ve still been too close for comfort.
Swiveling my chair, I spun to face out the small window I had back here. I gazed out at this little view of Burton and knew that this had to be the safer option. The best escape I could manage.
Being here was a physical reminder that I wasn’t in Chicago. Every morning that I woke up, I was greeted with the cabin walls and shown that I’d gotten out. I’d escaped, and I was far from the ex who’d wanted so badly to control me like a pawn.
The distance helped. All the miles between us were stepping stones of reclaiming my independence. I hated that it felt cowardly to run, to flee and hide back here in this small town, but I tried daily to reframe my thoughts and convince myself that I had also been brave. That I was still brave, taking courage to keep away from my previous life where I’d been so certain I’d be more successful than I could’ve been if I’d stayed here.
A month and a half had passed, and while I wasn’t able to gauge my level of success here, I borrowed Janelle’s advice and tried to change up my perspective. It wouldn’t be fair to compare my success here to what I could’ve had in the city. Chicago and Burton were apples to oranges.
I’m succeeding. Just at a different pace.
I had this job, which paid decently for the cost of living here. It wasn’t an overly challenging or interesting position, but it wasn’t degrading me and making me feel ignorant or idle.
I had the little cabin, which suited my comfort on an elemental level. It wasn’t an ideal residence forever, but it wasn’t a crappy shack that would blow over from one puff out of the big, bad wolf’s mouth.
And Janelle was on to something about the general antagonism lightening up around here. Sure, I still got the looks and whispers, but I’d learned to change my behavior and just not subject myself to the public eye. And yes, Ashley and her friends would always see me as less-than, but I suspected she had that haughty, superior mindset about everyone in town. The owner of the candy shop down Main Street still tracked me through his store, clinging to his original suspicion of me that formed when I was a child. I’d earned three dollars pulling the neighbor’s weeds, and since my birthday had been soon, I hid the cash to buy myself a treat before my parents saw the money and took it. He refused to sell me anything, saying he didn’t want thieves in his shop. And still, today, he maintained that distrust in me.
But, others were chill. At the coffee shop, the previous owner’s son didn’t bat an eyelid at me coming in. He wasn’t a carbon copy of his grouch of a father. And at the bakery, where the older ladies behind the counter always nagged me not to take too many free samples, the woman behind the glass cases was polite and kind, treating me like any other customer.
There was hope. Maybe the longer I stayed here, the stigma and memories of how horrible my parents were would cease to matter.
I wasn’t in the mood to “unlearn” anything, though. Being independent and keeping to myself had served me well. It was how I’d survived, but I could also see how blocking out the world could have its downfalls.
It sure made it all too easy for David to prey on me...
I cringed, hating to think of him, and I turned back to my computer to get busy with work. Several minutes later, though, when I reviewed the donation list of things from the Grand River Ranch, items I was supposed to check receipts for before the county-wide holiday toy drive began, my thoughts led to Roarke.
Talking with him wasn’t the awful experience I feared it might be. That he’d come to taunt me about kissing him. Or worse, expecting to pick up where we’d left off.
I ran out of his cabin with harsh words, declaring that nothing would happen between us again. No kisses, no touching, nothing. And he’d scowled right back at me, on the same page.
His explanation about his ex-wife confirmed that he’d been screwed over in love and life. She sure had given him hell, and I supposed I couldn’t fault him for being so jaded, so stereotypically male to say he didn’t want or need drama from women.
It didn’t escape my notice that he’d been open with me, not pushing me for details about me. Like the night when I stayed at his cabin, he talked and shared. It wasn’t something I’d forced out of him. It didn’t seem like he was one of those people who liked the sound of his own voice, either.
But what if I do?
Listening to his gruff voice, low and soft in the darkness, was a freaking lullaby. The sexy, needy grunts he gave me when we kissed were so hot that merely thinking about them aroused me. And the calm, conversational tone he’d used in front of my cabin was soothing.
Careful, Heather.
I didn’t need Roarke to feel better or calmer. But I felt better to dial down this instant dislike that rose up from our initial meeting.
After work, I walked out to my car, surprised to see Nevaeh strolling down the sidewalk.
“Nevaeh?” I greeted, posing it as a question. I hadn’t referred to her by her name, and doing so this first time was strange. I hadn’t seen her around, not since that night I’d turned her away. I still felt bad about being so protective of my space, but given our first run-in, I convinced myself I had to behave according to what experiences I had with her.
“Oh. Hey, cabin lady.”
I huffed. “Heather,” I clarified.
“Oh.” She didn’t pass me by, but it didn’t seem like she was in any rush, going nowhere.
I wondered all over again where she had gone and what her deal was. Drugs? A runaway? Lost? All of those sounded depressing as hell, and since she wasn’t being catty or outright rude, I decided to borrow a little of Nance’s—or Yoda’s—advice. Unlearn what I learned. The “old” me would’ve kept walking and kept to myself. That version of me would’ve gotten in my car and driven off. But now, in the light of my reflections earlier today, I tried to lower my guard.
I didn’t want to meddle in her business, but if she was needy or something, I could share.
“Hey, do you want a coffee?” I pointed at the coffee shop down Main. “It’s a good time for a hot pick-me-up.”
She arched a brow. “You buying?”
I nodded. “I offered.”
Her thin shoulders rose and fell. “Sure. Whatever.”
“All right.” I turned from the direction toward my car to walk down there with her. I wasn’t good at striking up small talk, but I’d let her guide how this went. I couldn’t turn off that nagging worry about her, but I refused to be taken advantage of.
As I pivoted, though, I caught a glance of a man walking to the opposite side of the street.
One glimpse was all it took.
His height. The lanky frame. That thick blond hair styled with too many products.
A slight turn of his head showed me all I needed to know.
David.
I gulped, almost choking on the pure panic and fear that descended upon me. On the sidewalk, I locked up. My body couldn’t move. Frozen and stiff, I vaguely realized I was paralyzed with the anxiety of seeing David.
He’s here.
“Heather?” Nevaeh asked. “Yo, cabin lady. You okay?”
Through my periphery, I saw that she squinted at me, peering at my sudden frozen status like I’d grown a second head.
“You with me?”
I shook my head. It began as a slight shake, but I ramped up the motion as if I could physically deny that my ex was here in Burton.
My feet carried me away from Nevaeh. I stumbled, backpedaling as David got into a car and drove off down Main.
“No,” I whispered, dizzy with the shallow breaths I could manage. “No, I’m not okay,” I mumbled, not caring if she heard.
I turned and did the one thing I was becoming a pro at in the face of danger and trauma.
I ran.
I sprinted to my car and hurried to get back to the small safety of the cabin out of town.
