It smells good. It feels good, and all the better for knowing that autumn never lasts nearly long enough.
That said, nothing seems to be on fire behind the brewery, so I head around the side, an unpleasant twist in the pit of my stomach at what I might find. Really, they should have just left me alone. I’d probably still be in there, double-checking that we had enough of each kind of beer.
As I walk, I can’t find anything wrong. The bouncy house is fine, if bouncy. The tower of hay bales isn’t on fire. Everyone seems to be having a perfectly good time out here, so maybe my brothers were just being —
Then I see the hair.
I know instantly why they didn’t want me out here.
She’s here, standing fifty feet away. Her back is to me but I still see that shock of red curls in my dreams. I’d know it anywhere.
I’m still walking. I don’t think I could stop if I wanted to.
I had no idea she was in town. I haven’t seen her — haven’t heard from her — in two years, not since I called her at midnight after my buddy’s wedding, a little drunk and filled with the kind of loneliness that a stranger with a nice ass can’t fix.
“Seth!”
It’s Caleb again, and now he’s power walking across the patio, barreling toward me.
I just cross my arms over my chest.
“You gotta go back in there,” he says, closing the distance. “There’s, uh, everything exploded. All the tanks. Stuff is on fire? Your computer is an arc reactor now? It’s mayhem.”
“I’m sure Daniel can fix it,” I say, and start walking again. Behind him, I can see Levi, his secret girlfriend June, and his best friend Silas watching us. I’m tempted to wave, since apparently I’m a spectator sport now.
“Godzilla showed up,” he says. “And there’s a hostage situation.”
“I’m just going to say hello,” I tell him. “That’s all. I swear, Caleb.”
“Shit,” I can hear him say as I step around him.
A breeze blows. I swear all noises hush. I walk up, reach out, tap her on the shoulder.
Delilah turns, and for a moment, she just looks at me.
Then she smiles, and I feel like the sun just turned on.
“Hey,” she says. “I thought you might be here.”
“You thought right,” I say. “How have you been?”Chapter SixDelilahStill Two Years and Three Months Ago“Go ahead, I want to say goodbye to someone,” I call across the dark patio to Lainey.
“You want us to wait?”
“Nah, I’m good,” I say.
“I’ll text you tomorrow about hiking,” Beau shouts as they head off, past the glow of the bonfires.
There’s a part of my brain that knows what’s good for me. It’s the logical part. The rational part. The part that identifies patterns and understands cause and effect.
That part of my brain is politely suggesting that perhaps I could also leave right now.
But the rest of me — not just my brain, of my entire being — isn’t interested in leaving. The rest of me doesn’t give a shit about pattern identification, or about cause and effect, or about knowing what’s in my best interest.
It cares that Seth Loveless is back there, and that three hours ago he gave me a hug that I’ve been replaying on an endless loop ever since.
That’s all. A hug. It wasn’t an embrace. He didn’t wrap me in his arms. He certainly didn’t hold me close. Nothing but a friend-I-haven’t-seen-in-a-while hug, and here I am still thinking about the way his body ever-so-briefly felt against mine.
I try to look casual as I head back to the bonfires, as if I’ve got my eye out for someone but it doesn’t really matter if I find him or not. I walk as though I’d prefer to find this person and say a proper goodbye, but if I don’t, it’s no big deal.
Truth is, I think my hands are shaking. The truth is that before today I haven’t seen him in two years, not since he called me at midnight, his voice like silk and sandpaper, to ask if we could meet somewhere halfway between us.
I haven’t seen him since I said yes and grabbed my keys while he named a town. I called Joshua, my then-boyfriend, from the road and told him I didn’t think we should see each other any more. When I got the Old Dixie Inn, I’d been single for about two hours.
Two days later, I left at four in the morning while he was still asleep. I didn’t say goodbye. I didn’t say anything, just put on the clothes I’d worn on the drive up and left.
Until today, we haven’t talked since. We still haven’t really talked, because the polite chatter of hi, how are you, what are you up to these days, oh you moved back to town? can’t be counted as talking.