Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Autumn

Earlier

I watch him walk away with his eyes focused forward and my conscience berates me for not stopping him.

After my last breakup, I told myself I’d chase no one who walked away from me again. Today, he tested that. I’m proud of staying true, but damn, I feel terrible. Alex wanted to escape from me. I felt that.

Five minutes later, his Jeep passes in the distance and it fades behind the buildings.

I pull out my phone and text our group chat called the Sanderson Sisters.

Autumn

Welp, that went horribly. I’m pretty sure he hates me.

Blaire

Huh? No way.

Julie

????

Autumn

He said he wanted to be friends, and I laughed AT him.

Blaire

Oh no.

Julie

Eek!

Autumn

Yeah, he revoked his words then left.

Julie

You didn’t stop him?

Autumn

No. I owe him an apology.

Blaire

This isn’t over yet.

Julie

You’ll see him again. It will all work out.

Autumn

Sigh.

I sit on the park bench for thirty more minutes with my back pressed against the wood. When my stomach growls from hunger, I walk the few blocks home and warm up the leftover chicken that’s in my fridge.

No matter how hard I try, I can’t shake the hurt behind his gaze that I caused.

Since I was a kid, I’ve been ridiculously aware of the energy in rooms and of people’s auras. When I felt his shift, I knew I’d fucked up. I’m not a cruel person, he just caught me off guard, something he’s good at.

After I finish eating, I call my little sister, Winter, because I need to talk this out.

Next year, she will complete her residency and will officially be able to open her own practice. She’s currently living in Southern California, loving the sunshine even if she texts me about how much she misses the mountains. That smarty pants has always given me the most logical advice without emotion, especially in situations like this.

If it weren’t for her talking me through my breakup with Sebastian, I’m not sure where I would be right now.

“Autumn!” she answers with a laugh. Chatter and laughter fills the background.

“Is it a bad time?”

“No, not at all, what’s going on? Everything okay at home?”

“Oh yeah, all is great. Mom still asks me when I’m going to date again and hasn’t stopped.”

She laughs.

“I need some sisterly advice because I’m overthinking again.”

“You sound tortured,” she says, then tells her friends she’ll be back. I imagine her on the beach, having a cocktail on a Wednesday afternoon.

“If you offended someone you don’t really know and wanted to apologize, what would you do?”

She chuckles. “Who’d you offend?”

“An out of towner. He asked me to be his friend and I laughed. It was very rude.”

“He?”

She hangs up and before I can react, I get a FaceTime call. I answer and my sister is grinning. It’s easier for her to read my body language when she can see me.

“Tell me more about him.”

I explain all the details from the moment he entered the shop to him refusing my coffee to wanting to befriend me.

“He sounds like he’s fighting demons. Maybe he wanted to offend you to push you away but realized that’s impossible because you’re actually a good person?”

“Doubt that.”

“Why?”

“Because how would he know that? We’ve spoken to one another twice.”

“Your demeanor gives you away. He mentioned he felt a connection with you. Did you feel the same way?”

“Yes.” I sigh, knowing I can’t lie to her, not when she’s staring at me, analyzing me.

“Why are you afraid of becoming his friend?” Her brows are lifted.

I shake my head. “He asked me what I was afraid of too.”

“Well?”

“Seems like a waste of time, doesn’t it?”

“Sounds like your fear of abandonment is taking hold again. Alex is not your ex. You barely know this man.”

I clear my throat. “I left one thing out. He looks exactly like Mr. Dreamy.”

Now her mouth falls open as she studies me. “Now that’s a plot twist I wasn’t expecting.”

“Yeah,” I whisper. “In the flesh.”

“Sister to sister, I’m not telling you to be a yes man, but what’s the worst that could happen? What if he is the man of your dreams?”

I groan.

“Or you could make a new friend and keep in touch with things like…” She gasps. “The Internet.”

“You better not treat your clients like this.” I huff.

“Oh, I absolutely will be truthful. I want to understand your fears of befriending people, especially men. I think this would be good for you. Take it day by day with no expectation. Who knows? Maybe he’ll be the one, just like Mr. Dreamy.”

What sucks is that she's right.

“I know what I have to do,” I say.

“Perfect. Keep me updated?”

“I will. Love you. Thank you!”

“Love you! Good luck. I hope to meet him at Christmas.”

“I’m sure Mom would support that. It would be nice to have us all together.”

“I'm going to try. Bye!”

I end the call and move to the kitchen, pulling out the flour, baking soda, baking powder, and salt. I made fresh pumpkin purée at the beginning of the week. During the season, I always have it in my fridge, waiting for me on reserve.

After I preheat the oven, I mix the dry ingredients together then beat the eggs and butter. Once it’s incorporated, I pour the batter into my loaf pan then bake it for seventy minutes. As I wait, I turn on some music and tidy my apartment, lost in my thoughts.

My sister is right. I have abandonment issues. Other than Julie and Blaire, allowing other people into my life has backfired, so why should I even try? This could be a catastrophe, or it could be incredible. I guess it’s a flip of a coin.

While the bread cools, I dress in my running clothes and wrap the loaf in some paper, tying a ribbon around it before I write him a note. I shove it in my backpack then tighten the straps.

Then, I grab the notebook with all the haikus.

You drive me crazy

Buried deep under my skin

Let’s see where it goes.

I jog up the mountainside trail at a faster pace than usual. No one can be sad while eating still-warm homemade pumpkin bread. It’s impossible.

Making a new friend wasn’t on my BINGO card this year, but maybe we both need this. While I still don’t believe I’m the best choice, sometimes the universe works in mysterious ways. Walking away from him at this point isn't an option. That much is true.

Being with him today feels like a hazy dream, and it’s still going.

Once I’m at the top of the mountain, staring at Hollow Manor, I step out of the woods and walk across the soft grass. The sun shines up above as I approach the porch, then check the door. It’s locked.

He’s lucky because I would’ve walked inside and yelled his name, made my presence known.

Instead, I ring the doorbell and wait for him to answer. Five minutes pass.

Before I allow myself to think the worst and create an avoidance scenario that he may not deserve, I walk to the driveway noticing the garage is open and empty.

Alex isn’t home.

A breath of relief escapes me because I’d assumed the worse. It’s something I have to stop doing. He deserves a fair chance.

I remove my backpack from my shoulders and pull the plastic bag with the pumpkin bread and note inside then tie on his door and leave.

An hour and a half later, I climb the stairs to my loft and kick off my shoes, then walk to the shower. My place still smells like sweet sugar and I wish I had made a loaf for myself. He got the first one of the season. Lucky guy.

After I bathe, I wrap my hair in a towel then open the large window, allowing the fresh air in.

The light sound of music plays from Vinyl Vibes and chatter from tourists fill the streets.

I sit at the bench seat with big fluffy pillows that I turned into a reading nook last year. In the evenings, before the sun sets, I’m always here watching people while drinking cheap rosé. It’s my favorite wind down time.

My breathing slows as my eyes scan up the mountainside and I see Hollow Manor in the distance, hoping Alex found my gift and note. It’s not like he could call me even if he did. Then, I remember I never texted him.

I grab my phone and click on his name.

Alexander

Then, I type out a message.

Autumn

Hi. It’s me, Autumn.

Boring.

I delete it and shake my head, realizing I care what he thinks. I care. Shit!

Autumn

Hi, it’s your new friend. Now you have my number. I left you pumpkin bread!

Lame.

I delete it and move to the last conversation I had with Julie.

Autumn

Do you think I should text Alex?

Julie

Yes and make it ridiculously flirty. ;)

Autumn

He needs a friend, Jules. That’s it.

I can’t get that sad expression on his face out of my head.

Julie

Tell him you were thinking about him and thought you’d send a text just in case he was doing the same.

Autumn

You and I have two totally different personalities. I could never come off that strong.

Julie

I’m the extrovert to your introvert. But I know you, babe. You’re probably sitting at your nook staring at that haunted house on the hill while daydreaming about him. Who wouldn’t? That man is gorgeous.

Sometimes I hate how well she knows me.

Autumn

Jules.

I move my focus back to the street, watching the passersby down below. The tourists have already arrived. Not surprising, considering the official first day of autumn is this weekend. It’s when most of the fall festivities kick off and they last through October 31st, then the town transforms into a winter wonderland that could be the set of a movie.

Julie

Next up, you’ll be baking him pumpkin bread.

My brows furrow. How could she know?

Autumn

Huh?

Julie

Think about every man you’ve ever had a crush on and fell madly in love with. What do they have in common?

Autumn

They were all tall with dark hair. Muscles.

Julie

No. The relationship has ALWAYS started with pumpkin bread and has since we were teenagers! It’s a dead giveaway, almost like an omen. Or maybe it’s one of your cycles. Fuck, for all I know you've been putting a love potion inside of it.

I stand and pace the small space, replaying it all. Shit. Shit!

“Autumn!” I hear someone yell from the street, and I move to the window.

When I see Blaire, I let out a relieved sigh. She’s carrying several recyclable grocery bags and they’re packed full. The leaves of a celery stalk stick out of the top of the one that’s swung over her shoulder.

Seeing her in passing is normal since she lives a few blocks away above the antique shop at the corner. She has a better view of the town square from her place than I do, and it’s much bigger. After the breakup, she convinced me to move close to Main Street and I don’t regret it.

“What are you doing?” she asks with concern in her tone.

“Melting down,” I admit.

“I can see that.” She nervously chuckles. “Or you’re trying to get more steps after your six-mile run? It’s one or the other, and based on the look on your face, I’d be willing to bet it’s a meltdown.”

I groan and plop back down in my seat, leaning my head against the wall with my eyes closed.

“Do you want me to come up? I have some time to chat.”

I focus on her. “Just tell me this one thing: when you think about me and pumpkin bread, what comes to mind?”

“Easy. Love.” She laughs.

My eyes widen and I place my face in my hands.

“Holy shit. You made him a love loaf!” She’s giddy and hops around in a circle as tourists walk past her. “Yay!”

“ Oh, my God ! You have a nickname for it? I cannot do this. This is how it starts. This is how it always starts. He just needs a friend. That’s it!”

“Hey, don’t worry about it.” She keeps her tone soft as she sets down her bags, giving her arm a rest. “You’re cursed, remember? Or maybe he’s the man who will help you break it?”

“This cannot be happening.”

She lifts her grocery sacks to her shoulders. “I’m coming up.”

“No, no. I’ll be fine. But can you keep this to yourself? Please?”

“Sure. Now, get out of your head. What’s the worst that could happen? You’ve got this!” She smiles and waltzes into the crowd. “I’m so jealous,” she yells back toward me.

I let out a calm breath, wishing I knew pumpkin bread was a tell. I just wanted to cheer him up, but even now, I don't know if I did. He could’ve trashed my love loaf.

After another minute of being lost in my head, I pick up my phone and I click on his contact again. Counting down from three to one, I type the first thing that comes to mind and press send.

Autumn

Hey, this is my number!

Thirty minutes pass and I don’t receive a text back. I watch the sun fade on the horizon, and when the streetlights cast warm rays on the ground, I close the window and bring down the blinds.

I light a few candles and turn on a lamp. As I cook dinner and drink a glass of wine, my cell buzzes on the counter. I pop a sautéed mushroom into my mouth and glance down at the screen.

Alex Alexander

Message Received

My heart does a somersault and I take a pause, sitting in it.

It’s been years since I’ve felt that rush of excitement travel through my body and I’m scared shitless.

I read his text.

Alex

And what should I program you into my phone as?

I glance up at what I sent, noticing I didn’t say my name.

Autumn

How many random people have you given your number to?

Alex

Hm. Several.

Autumn

Really?

My brows furrow.

Alex

Just one very stubborn woman.

A smile dances across my lips.

Alex

Thanks for the pumpkin bread.

Autumn

I can’t wait for you to try it.

Alex

I already did. It's the best I’ve ever had.

I take a sip of wine, rereading his last text, realizing I’m smiling as I lean against the counter while I cook. Chatting with him is easy. Too easy . I imagine him standing in his kitchen in that T-shirt with messy hair, wearing a cute little smirk.

Before I can reply, the fire alarm screams out in protest.

It startles me and I drop my phone onto the tile floor. Instead of picking it up, I remove the pan from the heat and flick on the box fan I keep plugged in for this very reason and open the window again. The ventilation is awful in this small space. I’ve set it off by boiling water, so it doesn’t take much.

I stand on a stool and use the handle of my broom to press in the button on the top to make the high-pitched squeal stop. It double beeps, then turns off. I move my food from the skillet onto a plate. Thankfully, it’s still edible.

The chicken breast, spinach, and roasted tomatoes smells heavenly. My cell is still face down on the floor and I pick it up only to find my screen is shattered.

“Shit,” I hiss, feeling it vibrate but unable to read what it says. So, I do the only thing I can think of and use voice command. This is the third device I’ve broken this year.

“Send a text to Alex Alexander.”

It talks back. “What would you like to say?”

“I’m not ignoring you. I’m really clumsy and dropped my phone again. The screen is shattered. I hope it’s not a bad omen. Anyway, have a good night.”

After a few seconds, it sends, almost immediately, it vibrates. A text, one I can't read, which annoys me. A minute later, my phone rings and by habit I click where the button to answer is and am surprised it works.

“Hello?”

“Hi. Um. Did you mean to text me?”

“Yes,” I say, sitting on my loveseat and setting my plate of food on the old coffee table I rescued from visiting the landfill. I watch a few seconds pass by, hating talking on the phone. It's always so awkward. “I dropped my phone and the screen shattered. I can’t read your texts, so I used voice command to explain.”

“Oh,” he says, chuckling. “That makes a lot more sense. What did you want it to say?” he asks, and I repeat my message.

He clears his throat and chuckles. “It says: I’m not boring you. I’m really horny and dropped my panties again. I hope it’s not a bad omen. Anyway, have a good night.”

My phone did me so dirty and it causes my cheeks to heat from embarrassment. “I did not say that, I swear.”

“Do you have plans this weekend?”

“Let me check my schedule.” Instead, I take a bite of food, knowing my calendar is free from now until eternity. “I’m available.”

“Can you reserve Friday night and Saturday for your new best friend?”

A smile takes hold. “Be careful using the term best friend around Julie and Blaire.”

“Noted.” He pauses. “I want to hang out with you.”

My heart races. “I’m extremely boring.”

“Perfect because I was just thinking about how I could use more boring in my life.”

“Okay.” I grin, setting my fork down. “This weekend is yours.”

“Great. We’re going to have a lot of fun.”

“I look forward to it,” I say, truthfully. “Good night.”

“Sweet dreams.”

He ends the call, which is great because I wouldn't be able to with a shattered screen.

September has already been a whirlwind and I have a feeling we’re just getting started. I just hope I’m not making the biggest mistake of my life and setting myself up for heartbreak. It’s too early to tell.