“So, you think I look good?” Yes, I’m totally fishing for a compliment.
“Possibly,” she says softly, and I wonder if she’s blushing.
“Okay, Bailey, it’s your turn.”
“My turn what?” she asks, and I take a drink of my beer.
“I’ve told you my whole life story. Now I want yours. It’s only fair.”
“I’m afraid mine doesn’t have a happy ending like yours,” she says, and there’s sadness in her voice.
“How do you know? We’ve only just met.” I picture her biting her lip and I can feel myself smiling. Sure, it’s a cocky comment, but I’m serious. I’ve never felt any sort of spark with someone before, but right now it feels like lightning bolts are zapping all around me.
“You are so sure of yourself.”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
“Maybe just trying to give myself a little longer to think,” she says, and I wait for her to finish. “Okay, so I don’t know my dad either. I’m not even sure if my mom did. It was just the two of us for a long time, and when I was seven she got pregnant with Hazel. I was too little to understand what happened when Hazel was born, and my mom never talked about it. But the doctors have since told me it was a traumatic brain injury.”
Bailey tells me about taking care of Hazel and how her mom took off a few weeks ago. It could be a really sad story, but instead she talks about how much fun they have together and the animals they have on their little farm. She tells me about how they love to cook and watch Harry Potter movies. My heart breaks that she’s got so much on her shoulders, but she never makes it sound like a burden. It’s clear her heart is so full of love for her sister, and in hearing her talk about their life, I find myself wanting to be a part of it.
“Maybe I could come see your farm sometime,” I say, trying to push my way in. “I like animals.”
“Maybe so,” she says hesitantly, and I worry I’ve overstepped.
“Is that not okay?”
“I’ve just got to be careful who I bring around Hazel. It’s not good for her to have people popping in and out.”
It’s a delicate way to say that she won’t bring around a tourist. She wants someone who is going to be around for the long haul, and I respect that.
“Maybe tomorrow when we meet I can try and make a good impression.”
Bailey laughs, and it eases some of the tension I had built up.
“Oh, she’s going to love you. You’ve got tattoos.”
“She likes them?” I ask, surprised.
“Loves them.”
“And how do you feel about them?”
There’s a quiet shyness that follows, and I’m smiling again.
“I don’t mind tattoos,” she hedges.
“Good.”
“I’ve got to get to bed. Morning comes early on the farm,” she says, and I realize we’ve been talking for over four hours.
“Wow, yeah, I didn’t know what time it was.” I sit up, still not wanting to let her go, but I know I have to. “So, I’ll see you in the morning, right?”
I don’t know why I want to confirm this so badly, but I feel like I’m really going to miss her until I see her again.
“Bright and early,” she says softly. “Goodnight, Shawn.”
The sound of my name on her lips is so sweet and tender. “Goodnight, Bailey.”
When the phone call ends, I flop back on the couch and stare up at the ceiling. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck and hugged by a bear all at once. I’ve got it bad.
Chapter 5
Bailey
“Why do you keep changing your hair?” I look over my shoulder at Hazel, who’s watching me get ready. Although I’ve spent the whole time trying to figure out what to do with my hair. I braided it but then thought it made me look too young, so I took it out.
“I just want to look nice today.” It’s the truth.
I decide to leave out the part where I’m doing it for a certain someone. I still can’t believe I stayed on the phone with him for over four hours. I didn’t even know I could talk that much. I really need to talk to Kyle about this because I’m flying blind. I might even be doing something I shouldn’t. But I can’t help how excited I am to see him today. When I first started talking to him I felt shy and unsure. It wasn’t long until I was comfortable and it all felt so natural and easy. Time flew by when I was talking to him.
“I like it braided,” Hazel tells me then looks at her own braid I put in her hair this morning. “I want a bow.”
“Of course.” I open the drawer and fish out a ribbon. “Pink?”