Forgetting Yesterday Read online

  We disconnected and I stood there for a moment, relief washing over me. I didn’t want to take advantage of my friend and I didn’t intend to. However, for now, I was going to do exactly as Claire had instructed.

  I was in dire need of a shower. I desperately needed to more thoroughly wash away the grime and the emotional residue of the previous day. My stomach rumbled and I realized that after that, some lunch would be in order. And after that…I’d try to get the R&R my friend had suggested.

  Chapter 2

  Getting some R&R was easier said than done. I found it incredibly boring. Never mind that in someone else’s house, in a strange town, I had nothing to do. Not really. Still, it didn’t mean that I enjoyed just sitting around.

  Even if I was sitting in Claire’s gorgeous backyard, surrounded by tulips in full bloom.

  It was hard not to think about Jason when I was just sitting. Despite the agreement that I’d made with myself somewhere during that five hour drive. I was putting him in the past. He didn’t know where I’d gone. He couldn’t come looking for me, not that I thought he would anyway, but we were over.

  We were done.

  In actuality, we’d been done for a very long time.

  In fact, we never should’ve begun in the first place.

  I only wish I’d seen it sooner.

  Now, I was moving on.

  After I’d ended my call with Claire, I’d showered and then eaten a can of chicken noodle soup. After that, I’d gone out to my car and lugged in the suitcases and two small boxes from my trunk. I’d unpacked them into the dresser. I’d placed a few meager decorations around my new room, pictures of Mom and whatnot, to personalize it a bit. I hoped I wasn’t taking it too far. I wasn’t sure if my definition of sticking around for a while was the same as Claire’s, though I thought it was.

  I would find out soon enough.

  I was glad that we would have the evening free to discuss things. What I wanted to discuss most was whether or not Claire was open to having a roommate long-term. Meaning I was hoping to find a job so I could stay in the area. The sooner I found a job, the better. I had some money in my savings, but not a lot. If I was staying, I was obviously going to pay rent.

  I had a newly minted degree in business. My college graduation had been this past weekend. I had started to come around a while ago, as far as my relationship with Jason went. But with only months left before I had my degree in hand, I’d decided to stick it out. After nearly two years of being together, what were a few more months? I’d walked through the line on Saturday afternoon. We’d spent a tense evening together. In hindsight, I should’ve just left right after the ceremony. My belongings had been packed safely in my trunk, ready to go. I’d wanted to give him the courtesy of telling him goodbye.

  Mistake.

  Big mistake.

  Before I could talk to him, before I could reason things out, he’d noticed my side of the closet was empty. My dresser too. From there, things had just gotten worse.

  I shifted uncomfortably in the lawn chair I was sprawled out on. The day was hot and humid. I didn’t mind it one bit. The heat actually felt good on my achy, sore body. I had decided if I was going to sit, I was at least going to sit in the sunshine, soaking up some Vitamin D.

  I also had Claire’s laptop fired up. I needed a job. The problem? Obviously my battered face wouldn’t make the best first impression. But I knew I needed to start somewhere. I wanted to at least have some idea of what might be available in the area.

  The town was of average size. Unfortunately, the list of job openings that I’d found online was pitifully short.

  I found myself feeling envious of Claire. For as long as I had known her, Claire had wanted to be a florist, like her own mom was. For most of her life, Claire had hung around her mom’s shop. When she was in her early teens, she had begun helping her mom put arrangements together.

  After high school, she’d gone to a technical college. She completed a Small Business Degree in two years. To Claire, spending the two years on that degree had felt like a necessary evil. Like paying taxes. She felt she knew enough about running a shop on her own. But her parents were adamant that she get some formal schooling. So she had opted for the quickest route possible.

  That was half the time it had taken me. Once Claire’s degree was completed, she’d moved on to the next step of the plan she’d made for herself while we were still a juniors in high school. That was the year her grandma had passed away, leaving her a decent sized inheritance. Claire had known exactly what she wanted to use that money for someday.

  She bought a business.

  The reason Claire had chosen Grafton was simple. She’d found a flower shop that was up for sale. She had realized early on that she might be better off buying into a current business rather than trying to start her own from the ground up. So that’s what she’d done.

  She’d used the inheritance as her down payment. A year later, she had what I assumed to be a rather successful business.

  Now here I was. I had a four year degree. I’d also gotten my degree in business. Whole lot of good it did me when I really didn’t know what I wanted to do with it. That was why I was envious of Claire.

  I had decided to go into business because it seemed like such a marketable degree. There were so many areas that it could be used in. At the start of my education I’d thought it didn’t matter much that I really didn’t know what I wanted to use it for. I figured by the time I was done, I’d know.

  Then my mom had gotten sick. I’d set aside thoughts of what I wanted to do with my life. It was a daily struggle to get through each day. Planning ahead? It just didn’t happen.

  I glanced at the computer again, then the notebook in my lap. There was a feed store that needed a bookkeeper. A hotel was looking for an overnight manager. A grocery store was seeking someone to head their recently expanded meat department.

  From there, it went downhill: Fast food help. Hotel room cleaning. Waitressing.

  My stomach twisted at the realization. If I couldn’t find something to sustain me financially, I might have to rethink my current plan.

  Waitressing was a valid option, something to get me by for a while. I’d done a little bit of waitressing in high school. I hadn’t been good at it. But beggars can’t be too choosy.

  I sighed, disappointed that the options were so severely limited.

  I was so tangled up in this unfortunate epiphany that I didn’t realize that the sound of gravel crunching was coming from the driveway. There had been some traffic on the road, though it had been infrequent. But now, this sound was much closer. I glanced at the time displayed at the bottom of the computer screen. It was only a little after one. Claire had said she was going to hustle.

  I decided she must’ve meant it. I closed the laptop and placed it on the chair once I’d eased myself out of it.

  Claire’s backyard was huge and private, sheltered by the pines. I had made myself comfortable on the backside of the house. I heard a vehicle door slam shut as I circled to the front to see what Claire was up to.

  “Damn!” a male voice said as I rounded the corner and slammed into his chest. I bounced off of him and his hands flew to my hips to steady me. My first thought was that it was Sean stopping by.

  It wasn’t.

  The stranger’s eyes widened, taking in the state of my face. I was instantly self-conscious. My right eye was badly bruised and swollen. I was infinitely grateful that my sunglasses covered part of it. Or at least, I hoped they did. My lip was split. I was, essentially, a mess.

  I reflexively hung my head, forgetting that my hair was pulled up and therefore, wouldn’t be falling forward to act as a shield.

  “Are you alright?” he demanded.

  I wasn’t sure if he was referring to our collision or my obvious injuries.

  “I’m fine,” I said.

  Curiosity got the best of me and I looked up at him again. He was tall, broad shouldered with delightfully defined arms. Not overd
one, but clearly sculpted. He wore worn jeans and a plain gray t-shirt that stretched nicely over his chest. His hair was a rich, espresso brown and his eyes matched.

  He was gorgeous.

  And staring at me.

  “Car accident,” I quickly lied, motioning to my face. It was obvious he was wondering.

  His eyebrows shot up. “Oh. Oh wow. But you’re okay?”

  I was, more or less. So I nodded as I shoved away the slight tinge of guilt I felt over the lie.

  “I bet the car didn’t make it,” he said with a grimace.

  “Um,” I hedged, “I’m not sure. Probably not. I was with a friend. It was her car and I haven’t heard if it was totaled or not.”

  “Okay, well…uh,” he stammered. His gaze flew over me. I felt extremely underdressed in my short cotton shorts and tank top. I’d dressed for comfort, not company. He clearly wanted to ask more but refrained from doing so. “Is Claire around?” he finally asked as he pulled his eyes back to mine again.

  “Claire? Uh, no. She’s working. Can I help you with something? Was she expecting you?”

  Surely she would’ve told me if she was expecting someone, anyone, let alone this…this…this unbelievably perfect creature.

  Then again, my arrival had obviously been a surprise. I couldn’t blame Claire if she’d forgotten to mention to me that she was expecting someone.

  He stuck his hand out to me and I took it as he pumped it up and down. His grip was firm, professional and the handshake was over in seconds. “I’m Alex Carmichael,” he said.

  “Zoey Bennett.”

  “Nice to meet you, Zoey. Pretty name,” he replied. Before I could respond he continued on. “I own Carmichael Roofing.” He pointed up toward what I now saw were peeling, curling, weathered shingles. Clearly, Clair’s remodeling wasn’t yet complete. “Claire hired me to do her roof. I was supposed to start next week but this week’s job canceled on me. I was hoping to get started today. I’ve got enough time to get about half a day’s work in.”

  He gave me a questioning look. Was he asking my permission to start on my friend’s roof?

  I shrugged. “I could call her to check.”

  “I tried giving her a call. That gal that works for her said she was making a delivery. I tried her cell phone and it went straight to voicemail. I’m sure she won’t mind. In fact, I know she’s anxious to get it done. The shingles are in. She’s already put half down and has a signed contract. I just wanted to make sure I wasn’t coming at a bad time.”

  He looked at me again. Apparently, my presence could possibly be construed as making this a “bad time.”

  “As long as you’re sure Claire won’t mind, I sure don’t,” I told him.

  “Good,” he said, looking visibly relieved. “I’ve got so much work lined up this summer that I’m afraid I’m going to fall behind. But hers is the only one that I’ve got the materials for. I appreciate you letting me work. I’ll warn you though it might get a bit noisy.”

  “That’s okay. I’m not really doing much anyway.” This was an understatement, for sure.

  “Are you visiting?” he wondered.

  I shrugged again. “I’m not sure yet. I’m staying with Claire for a while at least. Probably the summer for sure and then we’ll see.” I’d come to that conclusion as I was looking for a job. I was fresh out of college. I could tolerate a mediocre job—even if it was only waitressing—for the summer. But if something decent didn’t come along by fall, I would have to consider moving on. I didn’t bore him with the details of that revelation.

  A smile spread across his face. “Good, then maybe I’ll be seeing you around.”

  I smiled back, momentarily forgetting what a fright I must be.

  “Well,” he said as he moved to step around me, “I better get to work. I can get at least a few hours in today.”

  “Okay, well, I’ll see you later,” I said as I let him pass by. He gave me a short, perfunctory wave as he headed off.

  I made my way to the front of the house. There was a new, red Chevy truck in the driveway. “Carmichael Roofing”, along with its logo of a roofline, adorned the driver’s door—and probably the passenger one too, I assumed—in white.

  I let myself into the chilly, air-conditioned house and immediately dialed Claire’s number.

  “Are you okay?” she asked after the fifth ring.

  “Other than having a minor coronary, yes. You’ve got company,” I told her.

  “Aside from you?” she sounded confused.

  “Are you planning on having your roof redone?” I asked, giving her a hint.

  I could hear the smile in Claire’s voice. “Alex is there?”

  I reiterated everything he’d said to me. I also tossed in the embarrassing little fact that I’d crashed right into him.

  “Oh,” Claire moaned. “Dottie always leaves messages on my desk because her memory is bad. Mine is just as bad. I never remember to look on my desk.”

  “Just how old is Dottie?” I wondered.

  “Sixty-eight,” Claire said. “She kind of came with the store. She’s wonderful. Even if she is a tad forgetful.”

  I smiled. “So, what about Alex? Is this okay?”

  “It’s fine, great actually, that he’s there early. We’re supposed to be getting some bad weather toward the end of the week. If he can finish up before then, that would be good.”

  We disconnected for the second time that day and I stood there, wondering what I could possibly find to do. Watching television, especially daytime television, held no appeal. I spotted a stack of magazines on the coffee table. I wasn’t sure I had the patience to sit and leaf through them.

  I wasn’t used to having free time. Up until a few days ago I was a full-time college student that was constantly studying if I wasn’t working. I’d had a part-time job in the Admissions Office on campus. Now I had my degree but I was effectively unemployed. My job had ended with the term. It was just another factor that had made my decision to come to Grafton a whole lot easier.

  I spotted the laptop I’d left out in the sweltering sun. I slipped out the back door to retrieve it. Alex was at the edge of the house, propping a ladder against the eves. He gave me a polite nod as he went about his business. I snatched up the laptop and headed back inside. Soaking up more sun was out of the question. I’d undoubtedly end up gawking at Alex.

  And how inappropriate would that be? Considering I was only hours out of a relationship…very inappropriate.

  In all fairness, I thought, physically I’m only hours out of a relationship. Mentally, I’d checked out months ago.

  I felt listless as I paced through the living room and back into the kitchen. Claire’s house was spotless but I needed something to do. I began rummaging through my friend’s kitchen cupboards. I found a cookbook and everything I needed to make a batch of cookies.

  Claire had a stereo in the living room. I flipped it on; happy enough with the classic rock station it was set to. Alex hadn’t been wrong when he said he’d be making noise. Not only were his footsteps constantly pounding across the rooftop, I could hear him working at prying the old shingles off as well. That, I realized, might be how his arms had ended up looking so good.

  The music drowned out the noise of his working a bit, but I was still very aware that he was there.

  I mixed everything together, snooping through the kitchen as I went. Less than an hour later, I pulled the last batch from the oven. Once they were carefully placed on a cooling rack, I placed two of them on a plate and helped myself to a glass of milk. I flopped down on the sofa, attempting to read a magazine I had no interest in.

  I had flipped my way through most of it when there was a knock on the door. Even with the music playing, I was sure I would’ve noticed if someone else had pulled up. Since I was fairly sure they hadn’t, I assumed it was Alex.

  I wasn’t wrong.

  “Hey…damn,” he muttered as his eyes widened. I realized belatedly that without my sunglasses on, my face
probably looked worse than he’d originally realized. He shook his head and looked away. “I’m really sorry to bother you. But it’s hot as hell out here. Would you mind if I fill this up?” He raised a water bottle into the air. “I keep a small water cooler in my truck and usually fill it with that but,” he shrugged and made an apologetic face, “I’ve already used it all up.”

  “Yeah, come on in,” I said as I stepped aside. “Kitchen is this way,” I told him as I led the way.

  He sniffed the air as he made a little humming noise. “Yeah, I could just follow the smell.” As he filled his bottle his eyes wandered to the cooling rack on the counter.

  “They’re oatmeal chocolate chip. Would you like one?” I offered.

  He turned to me with a grin. “I probably shouldn’t, but I’m going to say yes, anyway.”

  “Do you want milk?” I asked as he leaned over the countertop to select a cookie.

  “I’m okay,” he said, though his tone disagreed.

  I did too.

  No one should eat cookies without milk. It just wasn’t right.

  “I talked to Claire,” I told him as I reached into the cupboard I’d discovered glasses in.

  “Yeah?” he asked, grinning as I poured him a big glass of milk.

  I nodded as I handed it to him. “She was glad you were able to start early.”

  “That makes two of us,” he said.

  After three cookies and a harmless conversation that mostly centered around the weather—the unbearable heat and the storm moving in—he headed back outside.

  I washed up the dishes we’d used, dried them and put them back in the right places. I checked the dishwasher. It was full of clean dishes so I put them away too. How better to become familiar with where everything went? Then I searched through the cupboards for a container to put the nearly two dozen cookies in.

  “We do not need all of these,” I muttered. I should’ve cut the recipe in half. I wasn’t sure about Claire but I, for one, didn’t need the calories.

  A cookie here or there? Sure.

  The better part of two dozen? No. Not a good idea.

  I rooted around some more, feeling a little like I was snooping even though it was just a kitchen. And honestly, if I stayed, it would kind of be my kitchen too.