42. Harlan

42

HARLAN

Daphne was gone, and she hadn't said goodbye.

I shouldn't be surprised. She told me that she hated goodbyes, and for good reason. Still, I was. Surprised and disappointed…probably more disappointed.

The more time passed, the more it sank in that she had just left. For some reason, I couldn't believe that she would be able to leave town without saying goodbye. I'd tried to call her several times, but her phone just kept going to voicemail.

When I left the Moore Farm yesterday evening, I thought about booking a flight but immediately realized I didn't have her address or even know what city she lived in. I walked back over to the farm, but Ms. Shaw said Miss Rhonda was asleep. She invited me in for some sweet tea, and I waited for about an hour to see if she woke up, but she didn't.

I figured after class today, I'd go back over and hopefully get Daphne's address and then book a flight to California. Once I got there, I'd just be winging it.

The timer on my watch went off, and I lifted the whistle to my mouth and blew.

"Okay, move stations!"

Each group of ten shifted as Weston walked up beside me. He looked like the cat that ate the canary.

"Everything good?" I asked.

Weston's grin widened. "Have you seen the TikTok numbers? We're up to five hundred thousand."

In the short time since we'd brought on the social media expert and a manager, our engagement and followers had skyrocketed. Those numbers directly correlated to the quality of sponsorship and collabs we were offered. The higher-profile brands and influencers we worked with, the better exposure we gained, which led to more followers and better engagement. It was self-perpetuating. To say that I'd been leaving money on the table was an understatement. I had no idea the goldmine I was sitting on, and just hadn't bothered to notice because I didn't like social media.

And my business wasn't the only one that was thriving. Yesterday, when I was having sweet tea with Ms. Shaw, she was singing Daphne's praises, talking about what a huge difference her suggestions had made in Pretty in Peaches' revenue. Her net profits were up by twenty percent.

Daphne had the Midas touch with people and businesses. Even though she'd only been in town for seven weeks, she'd made a lasting impression on everyone she met. She was the rarest of gems. One-of-a-kind. And she was gone. Even though it had been less than twenty-four hours, I felt her absence in the atmosphere. There was something magical missing.

I wondered if I'd be able to handle that missing magic long-term. Long distance meant only seeing her every other weekend if that. Was that enough? Would it be enough in a year? In two years?

My mind was distracted, and I didn't notice that time was up, so Weston blew the whistle, signifying the final class was done. All morning, I'd tried to keep my head in the game, but it had been difficult—nearly impossible. The only thing I could think about was Daphne.

As I watched everyone, including Weston, get into their cars and drive away, I felt empty inside. I looked around at the place that had always felt like home to me, and I realized it didn't anymore. Maybe with Grandad here, but if he was really leaving and I was out here all alone, that would just be…lonely.

My head was spinning as I walked in the back door, through the kitchen, and found Grandad sitting in his recliner, Dini curled up on his lap.

"How were your classes?" he asked.

"Good." I nodded and started up the stairs but paused. "Are you serious about moving into the boarding house?"

Even though I knew the answer, I had to ask. Grandad wouldn't have told me his plans if they weren't set in stone. He was old school. A man of his word.

"Sure am. It's a lot cheaper than the retirement home."

"But you don't have to move."

When his eyes met mine, I could see the sadness in them. "I do. This place isn't home anymore. Not without your Meemaw."

I took a deep breath. "How would you feel if I sold the farm?"

My heart was thundering in my chest. I didn't want to upset him, and I didn't even know if I would do it, but the thought of Daphne being in California and me being here just wasn't sitting well with me.

Grandad's expression remained neutral. The only thing that shifted was his bushy brows, which lifted a millimeter, not noticeable at all if I wasn't studying him so intently. "Well, now, I s'pose that would depend."

"Depend on what?" I followed up.

"On why ."

"Ariana offered a good price."

"Pshh, money comes and goes." Grandad batted his hand at me dismissively as he looked back at the TV. "Legacy lasts forever."

Fuck it. There was no reason to beat around the bush. I needed to put all my cards on the table. "I was thinking of maybe going out to California for a while."

He kept his attention focused on the screen in front of him. "California, huh?"

"Yeah." My palms were sweating.

"Do your plans have anything to do with a certain blonde who ran off without sayin' goodbye?"

"Yes." I braced myself, waiting for him to tell me that I was crazy to even think about selling our legacy to chase a woman.

"Well, if that's the case, then I'd say that you finally got your priorities straight."

"You would?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing.

He shifted his attention back to me. "The only thing you ever loved was baseball and your family. Without those things, you have no purpose, son. See, now, the only reason I wanted you to keep this place was so you'd have roots to ground you. It seems to me that you've found yourself some new soil to plant those roots in."

"But…what about the Mitchell legacy?"

Never in a million years did I think I'd be making a case against selling the farm.

"The Mitchell legacy was never this place. It wasn't the land, the barn, or the house. It was love , son. The way I loved your Meemaw and your daddy loved your mama. That's what our legacy is."

I stood staring at Grandad, speechless, when there was a knock on the door. I figured it was one of the students who must have forgotten something in the barn. My head was a million miles away as I walked to the door and opened it. When I looked up, I was sure that I was seeing things. Daphne Moore was standing on my porch.

"Daphne?" Her name came out as barely more than a whisper.

She lifted her hand awkwardly. "Hi."

"What are you…I thought you were gone. I went over to see you, and Ms. Shaw said?—"

"I was. I left last night."

My heart was jumping to all sorts of conclusions, but my head was trying to be the voice of reason. I wanted to believe that she was here because she loved me. Because she wanted to be with me. But I knew there were a million reasons she could be here. Well, not a million, but at least a dozen that had nothing to do with us.

"Did they cancel your flight?" I questioned.

"Um, no, I might have missed my flight. I think. I don't know. I think I may have fallen asleep in the waiting area. I'm not sure, but I left. I didn't get on my flight. I came back here."

"You didn't get on your flight?" I repeated.

"No. Can I come in?" she asked.

"Oh, yeah, sorry."

I opened the door wider. As she walked in, I inhaled her fruity scent, the same scent I'd smelled when she was holding Dini the first day that I'd met her. She stood in the entryway and looked around, and I realized she'd never actually been inside the house before. Whenever we hung out, it was always at her aunt's house. I was going to take her upstairs, where we could have more privacy, but as we passed the front room, I saw that Grandad wasn't in his recliner, so instead, I went in there.

"Um, so I wanted to come back because I needed to tell you that I think I love you. No, I know I love you?—"

"I was going to fly out to California to tell you the same thing," I blurted out.

"You were?"

I nodded. "I tried to get your address from your aunt yesterday, but she was asleep. And today, I decided I'm going to sell the farm."

"What? Why would you sell the farm?"

"Because you live in California."

Emotion filled her bottom lids. "You would move to California? For me?"

"Yes. I love you. I'll do anything for you."

Two tears slid down her cheeks as she smiled. "You don't have to move for me. I don't want to live in California. I don't want to leave Aunt Rhonda alone, and I don't even like my job. I want to be here. I want to live here."

I cupped her face and wiped her tears with my thumbs as my heart exploded in my chest from happiness. "I don't want you to say those things if you don't mean them. You don't have to say that."

"No. I want to. I really do. I met this guy, this biker; I think he was a biker. And I think I met him, or I dreamt him; anyway, he asked me what was wrong, and usually I don't tell people things, personal things, but I did. I told him everything, and he told me to close my eyes and picture my life, and if I could picture it without you, then…" She sniffed and closed her eyes. "It doesn't matter, anyway, the point is, when I pictured my life, even with you in California, I wasn't happy. But when I pictured it with us here, I was. I was happy. I want to be here with you. I love you, Harlan. I can't picture my life without you."

"I love you, too. I love you. I love you. I love you." I leaned down and kissed her. I kissed her deep and hard, and then I hugged her tight, never wanting to let her go.

It might have been too tight because I felt her body tense.

"Harlan?"

"What?" I looked down at her, searching her face to see what was wrong. Whatever it was, we would fix it even if she'd changed her mind about moving. I didn't care. Wherever she wanted to live, it would be fine.

"Who is that?"

She moved out of my arms and picked up a photo of my dad on his Harley. It was the last photo taken of him, and it was my favorite. He was wearing a white T-shirt, jeans, and his black riding boots. His long beard was blowing in the wind, and his bright blue eyes were vibrant in the photo.

"That's my dad."

All of the color drained from her face as she staggered back and sank onto the couch.

"What's wrong?" I asked, stepping forward.

"Was your mom's name Maggie?"

"Maggie," I said at the same time she said her name. "Yeah, it's Maggie."

"Did your dad call her Magpie?"

"Magpie," we chorused again.

"How did you know?"

Her breath grew shallow as she put her hand on her chest. She sounded like she was starting to hyperventilate as she said, "I know this is crazy, but this is the man I saw. This is the biker that I talked to at the airport." She pointed down to the picture as tears filled her eyes. "This is the man who told me to close my eyes and picture what the rest of my life was going to be like. He said that was how I would know the answer to what I should do. It was him."

I smiled as I shook my head back and forth and lowered myself beside her, my own tears forming in my eyes. "That's not crazy. That's my dad."

I explained how he used to visit me in my dreams. I even told her that I asked him what I should do right before the power outage. She told me she'd asked her grandma the exact same question right before the lights went out.

We sat together, confused and happy, and confused again, trying to wrap our heads around what had transpired. Even though we had more questions now than ever, there were a couple of things we were certain of: we loved each other, and we were going to be together. And that was all we needed to know for sure.