I let the card fall from my fingertips. Finally, I allow my eyes to land on the present. It’s a framed picture of the lyrics to the song he wrote for me. He’s written out the words as neatly as he can, but it’s still sloppy. In my eyes, it’s perfect.
Laying on top of the frame is a small white box. I pick it up and open the lid to find a gold necklace with a small heart charm.
On the bottom of the lid he’s written;
Now you can wear my heart around your neck, proof to anyone who dares second-guess that it belongs to you and only you. —H
I can’t stop the tears from falling freely then.
I’m surrounded by tangible proof of how much he loves me and still I feel achingly alone.
38
Hollis
I slide into the booth at Jerry’s Diner where my mom works. It’s one of my favorite places in this town. There’s not a lot I liked about growing up here. I didn’t care about being poor or even it being small—I just wanted more. I always wanted to be better, to be greater.
“What can I getcha?” I look up and break out into a smile.
“Alice, it’s good to see you.” I’ve already been here a few days but didn’t venture out until today—instead choosing to stay home with my momma while she was off work.
“Is that you, Hollis?” she asks, squinting dramatically. “Your momma said you were back when she got here this morning but I didn’t believe her.”
“I’m back, but not for long.”
She clucks her tongue. “Shame. Well, is your order still the same? Fresh squeezed orange juice and five cinnamon pancakes?”
“You got it, Alice.”
She taps her pen against her notepad. “It’s good to see you, Hollie.”
I groan. “I hate that damn nickname,” I grumble.
She grins. “Why do you think I like using it? I’ll get this put in for you.”
I wave at my mom behind the counter and she waves back. I couldn’t stand being stuck in the trailer by myself, and there wasn’t anywhere else to go.
Alice drops off my orange juice and I take a sip. It’s as good as I remember.
A few people come in and out, picking up orders or staying to eat a meal.
“Well, well, well look what the cat dragged in.”
I look up at the sound of the voice. “Callie,” I chuckle, as Cannon’s younger sister Calista makes her appearance.
“My brother said you were in town. I thought he was lying.”
She slides into the booth across from me.
“Take a seat,” I say sarcastically.
“I did,” she retorts, sticking her tongue out.
She’s five years younger than Cannon and me. At twenty she acts more like sixteen at times. I think it comes from growing up and chasing after the four of us.
“I heard you like to send your brother dick pics.”
She busts out laughing. “Anytime some dude sends me a dick pic I forward it his way. I can’t help it.”