Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
THIRTY
Rosey
It’s the first time I’ve been into Star Falls since I left the cabins and moved into my apartment. I haven’t had a day off since. Even though the Club runs a shuttle bus into Star Falls every half hour, it feels like a long way away.
And I know it will remind me of Byron.
There’s no escaping him. He’s in every brick of the building I live in. He’s in the diner, at Grizzly’s. There are memories of him everywhere.
A few of us get off the bus at the same time. We’re all starting to work shifts the closer we get to opening, and a few of us have a day off today. I recommended Galaxy Diner to a few of my co-workers, and some of the bar staff are going to check it out. I point them in the right direction as we get off the bus, and I head to the post office. Frank’s ring is in my pocket. I need to mail it back to him. I haven’t prepared a note or anything. I can’t think of what to say. But mailing the ring to him still leaves the issue of the trailer. I don’t know where to start with that. My mom has probably burned all my stuff by now, including the deed Frank gave me.
There’s no line at the post office. I explain I’m mailing jewelry, and the woman behind the counter, who seems to be wearing a dead yellow bird in her hair, tells me how to package and insure the ring.
I fill out Frank’s address on the padded envelope she hands me.
“Don’t forget to put your address on the top left-hand corner on the front.” She smiles at me like she’s being helpful. But it’s not helpful.
“Do I have to do that?” I ask. “Or can I just put down my name? I’d really prefer him not to know where I am.”
She offers me a sympathetic smile. “You don’t have to, but the postmark is going to give the town away. And there’s no hiding anything in this town.”
It’s probably fine. Frank won’t think twice about the postmark. He’ll be so happy to get the ring back, I’m sure he’ll just trash the packaging.
“You want the PO box?” she asks.
“It will be fine. I’ll just put my address.” It’s not like he’s going to get on a plane and try to change my mind. I humiliated him in front of his friends and family. Frank’s not a monster. He’s not going to send a hitman after me, either. And it’s not like I’m alone in the woods. I’m living among loads of people. Putting my address on this package is no big deal.
Before I can second-guess myself, I scribble out Frank’s address, my address, and stuff the Ziploc containing the ring into the mailer. I pay the bird lady and head out.
I exhale as I step out into the fresh Colorado air. I look up into the bright blue sky and smile. Sending back that ring feels powerful. I made that decision. Not out of fear—which is what drove me to bolt from the wedding—but because I don’t want to marry Frank. I never did. And he deserves the ring back.
I stuff my hands back into my pockets and head to the diner. As I pass by Snail Trail, I glance in, see Marge, and give her a wave. Her face brightens and she waves back.
I don’t think I’ve ever felt so at home somewhere, despite living in the trailer park my entire life.
I get to the diner and slide into the booth closest to the door, avoiding the one I sat in with Byron, even though the view of the mountain would be better from there.
Rachel comes over, and I order a hot chocolate and the waffles with fresh berries without thinking twice. The description on the menu reads, Because if it comes with fruit, it can’t be bad for you, right? I’m getting better at making my own decisions, though in fairness, waffles at the diner are an easy choice.
The door behind me opens, and I know without having to turn around that it’s Byron. I close my eyes. Will he come over? Say hi? I so desperately want him to slide in opposite me and make me laugh. Make me see myself the way he sees me—someone with potential. A woman who could be with a man like him.
He places an order for hot chocolate, turns, and sees me. Our eyes lock and energy jolts through my body like I’m touching a live wire.
“Hey,” I say.
His eyes search my face, like he’s looking for instructions on what he’s supposed to do now.
“You wanna join me?” The words are out of my mouth before I can think of the consequences. Do I want him so close by? And with staff from the Club in town, I don’t need people to see me chatting with the owner like we’re friends.