Southern Sunshine (Southern 8)

He slaps me on the back. “Means your body needed the rest." He sits on the stool while I make some coffee. “You have to learn to listen to your body."

"Give me five minutes,” I say. “I’ll be ready to go then." I grab the coffee and then go get dressed.

I push myself in the gym. My whole body burns when I walk out and head back home for a shower. That night, I get into the truck, and my vehicle leads me to drive by Hazel’s place. The lights are out again, and I stop the truck and think about ringing the bell again. But instead, I press the gas and make my way over to the bar.

After parking and getting out, it feels like I just did this yesterday. I pull open the door and step inside, looking around at the bigger space. The back goes far back, and to the side, what used to be the sports bar is now open. I head to the bar, and I stop when I see Harlow behind the bar. She looks up and smiles when she sees me. “Holy, holy,” I say when I see her behind the bar, and she just shakes her head. I look in front of her and see Christopher and clap my hands together. “Talk about bringing back memories." I walk over and slap his back as I sit down next to him.

"This is crazy," Christopher says, bringing the bottle of beer to his mouth. “Never did we sit on this side of the bar."

"Didn’t think I would see you here,” I say honestly.

"On the one day a week I get off, I decided that I deserved to have a cold beer served to me by a beautiful woman,” he says, looking over at Harlow.

"That’s still my sister." I glare at him. “Which means she’s off-limits."

"What can I get you?" Harlow interrupts us with a huge smile on her face.

"What are you doing here?" I ask, and she walks to get me a beer.

"Besides serving a gentleman." She winks at Christopher, and he blushes. "Have you seen Amelia?" She looks at me, turning to the side and motioning with her hand on her stomach. “Her feet have swelled up as big as watermelons. So, I did what any good cousin would do,” she says. “I’m going to work the bar."

"You?" I ask. “Work the bar?"

"A lot has changed in six years," she tells me. “I may live at home, but I do work."

She walks to the end of the bar, and I pick up my beer and hold it out to Christopher. “To old times."

"Fuck, I hope not,” he says, laughing while he clinks his bottle to mine, then brings it to his lips. “God, we were sad."

"We weren’t that sad,” I say, putting the bottle back on the bar.

"We were horny and sad,” he says. “Two things that don’t go together."

I laugh. “We went on dates." He nods now and looks over at Harlow. “You were dating Jenny when I left."

"Yeah,” he says. “Best thing she could give me was my daughter and a divorce." I put my hand to my mouth.

"You married her?" I ask, shocked.

"She was having my kid,” he says. “What was I supposed to do?" I look at him. He’s got a point.

"Hey, do you remember Hazel?" I bring up her name, and he looks over at me, smirking.

"Hazel, who you chased for two months?” he asks, pushing my shoulder. “God, I thought for sure one day she would catch you with a boner. I used to follow you around waiting."

"Fuck you." I shake my head and bring the beer to my mouth. “She has a kid."

His eyes go wide. “No kidding."

"I guess she didn’t hook up with anyone when I left?" I ask, and he shakes his head.

"No, we worked side by side for two months before we both left, and she said maybe five words to me,” he says. “How old is her daughter?"

"No idea,” I say, turning the beer bottle in front of me. I don’t add that I’m going to find out.

Chapter 12

Hazel

"I want to see you at all times," I tell Sofia as she walks away from the front porch.

"Okay, Momma,” she says, and I look over at her. She has always loved to go to the park, but seeing her here in my element is refreshing. Every day, she wants to put her overalls on and her Rubber boots. She doesn’t care that her hands get dirty or that there is nothing to do but run freely. "Are you going to make it pretty today?"

"That’s the plan." I look over at the weeds in the flower bed, and I want to tell her no. I’ve been trying to work on this fucking flower bed for the past five days. The first day, I walked into the barn with a pot and a spoon, holding my breath with Sofia behind me, and didn’t find one fucking tool. The next day, I attempted to go into the “tool shed,” and the door fell off in my hand, which made Sofia laugh like crazy. But also found no fucking tools. On the third day, I just gave up and decided that maybe it wasn’t meant to be. Except I had this guilt the whole time, and yesterday, I finally gave up and went to buy what I needed. Six hundred dollars later, I now have tools to fix the flower bed and a lawn mower.