Delaney James seemed to have it all-a Manhattan townhouse, a thriving career as a fashion journalist, and a handsome, high-powered husband, but when he announces he's leaving her, Delaney's picture-perfect life unravels. Heartbroken and in need of a...
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The fourth of July is like Christmas in South Grove, and on Magnolia Lane where Delaney and I grew up, the holiday is in full swing. Tables line the barricaded street holding casserole dishes, bowls filled with every type of salad you can think of, and aluminum bakeware stuffed with fried chicken, ribs, and smoked brisket. The smoker in my parent's driveway sends tendrils of heat shimmering into the air, and the smell of burgers and hot dogs permeates my senses. Music plays from a speaker attached to the Slate's garage. Oldies, of course, because God forbid the oldest, grumpiest couple on the street play anything other than music that came out after nineteen-fucking-sixty.
Doors slam as kids run in and out of their houses and their energetic laughter fills the street, reminding me instantly of when Delaney and I were young and we were the ones running around, sneaking cookies before dinner when we were eight and beers from the cooler when we were seventeen – both of which we got in trouble for.
My first Fourth of July back in South Grove was difficult. People asked a lot of questions. What brought me home? How long would I be in town? Shouldn't I be with the team for our series with the Arizona Copperheads? Would I ever play again? What's the plan if I can't? It took a lot of patience – patience that thinned with each question – and a lot of alcohol to get through that first Fourth of July. I couldn't handle the interrogations and whispers behind my back, the constant stares as I walked by tables filled with neighbors I've known my whole life. It was the day I realized my life would never be the same, and also the day that started my downward spiral.
Things have gotten better as the years have gone by. The novelty of me being back has worn off, but people in South Grove will never see me the same way. Instead of being the guy from a small town who worked his ass off and sacrificed everything to play in the pros, I'm the guy who failed. I used to be someone people admired, and now I'm the guy everyone pities.
People crowd the street as they chat amongst each other, but my focus is lasered on my mother and Delaney, and the way they're embracing each other. My mother is holding onto her like she's going to disappear, and Delaney is talking to her like she just saw her yesterday instead of ten years ago, a warm, welcoming smile on her beautiful face.
"Well, I'll be damned. Delaney fucking James," my older brother says, causing me to pull my eyes away from her. I look up at him and smile when I see Blaire, my ten-month-old niece, in his arms. I dig my fingers into her chubby thigh playfully, laughing along with her when she giggles and kicks her tiny feet against Cole's stomach. "Mom told me she was back."
"Of course, she did."
My brother Cole is six years older than me. He was in his junior year at Wake Forest when I entered high school, and after he graduated college, he got a job offer he couldn't turn down and moved to Raleigh with his then-girlfriend, Lydia. Once they were married and found out she was pregnant with their now six-year-old son Stephen, they moved back to South Grove so my parents could be a constant in their grandchild's life. We've never been close, and that's partly due to our age gap and the different places our lives have taken us, but it got worse when I got home from Missouri. When my destructive behavior nearly blew up everyone's lives.
