Linley Floyd left Pigeon Creek, Alabama and all she was, including the name she was born with, in the rear view mirror seven years ago when she moved to New York. When her boyfriend and she's sure, the love of her life, proposes, she finds herself r...
A/N: Chapter 3 is on deck! Linley's finally home in Alabama and the fur is going to fly! So this is where the drama in this story begins!
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The sun is just rising when the plane lands in Alabama. You rent a car and settle in for the four hour drive to Pigeon Creek. It's as you're driving through Greenville that your phone rings.
"Hello?" You hope this isn't your dad.
"You bitch!" It's Tasha. "I was your first friend in New York and I have to find out you're engaged like everyone else did? By reading the papers?"
"I know, Tash. But she didn't really give me a choice. She turned the ring around on my hand and blurted the whole thing out. If I had my way I would've been telling you all about it over mimosas this morning."
"Well you still can, y'know, babes? I'm at that little spot around the corner from your place with a few of the girls. Why don't you come by? We'll each treat you to a celebratory mimosa."
"I wish I could, Tash. But I'm not in New York right now. I'm in Alabama." You wince at the explosion of sound that comes through your earpiece. It sounds like all of your friends are loudly screaming advice down the phone to you, and if you weren't driving and wearing a headset you'd have pulled the speaker away from your ear. Once the noise dies down, it takes you twenty minutes to placate her before you can hang up the phone, which is exactly how long it always takes to drive to Pigeon Creek from Greenville.
Everything in Pigeon Creek looks exactly like you remember it. Dusty and hot, with the same people doing the same things, just a little more worn than you remember. But you're a woman with a mission. You're not back in town to take in the sights and reminisce. On the contrary, you're here for one thing and one thing only. If only you can drum up the courage to speak to Jake again. You drive through town twice in your discomfiture before finally taking the long drive home. It feels like it takes hours and minutes all at once. God, you hope Jake still lives in the same house. You don't know what you'll do if he isn't there. You're not exactly equipped for a manhunt here.
You must be in luck for the first time in the past few days, because when you pull into the driveway of the house you used to call home, the same old truck is in the driveway. More than the truck though, the entire house seems to be just like it was the day you left. There's a little more ivy covering the sunny yellow siding, but it all looks exactly the same. The birds are making a riot as you sit in your soft-top rental convertible and take stock of the situation. How does coming back to the same place automatically make you feel like the same person you were before you left?
You carefully pull the engagement ring off of your finger and stick it in your purse before double and triple checking that all three copies of the divorce agreement are in your purse where you left them. With a fortifying breath, you step out of your rental and walk towards the front porch. The first change you see is the seaplane waiting down by the dock. When did Jake buy that old plane? Then there's the sweet dog sitting on the porch. Bear looks just like he did when he was a puppy. But he doesn't seem to remember you, instead he barks at the sight of you. Either Bear doesn't remember you, or far more likely, his daddy brainwashed him into believing you're the enemy. But you can't go back, not now, so you walk carefully towards the porch.
