Broken Creek (The Creek #1) (3 page)

“You forgot something,” she said, with a teasing smile, her eyes lighting up.

“I did? What?” I grabbed the list and scanned it.

“I’ll be right back,” she said as she disappeared from my room.

When she returned, she had a small gift sack decorated with yellow and red three-dimensional flowers on the outside and lots of glitter that slowly descended to the floor as she touched it.

The sack itself was a beautiful gift. When I removed the red tissue, I gasped. Wrapped inside was a shiny wooden box with a scene painted on the top. It was a rendering of the bench at the creek.

I could hear Mom’s deep breathing as she took a seat beside me on my bed.

“Mom, this is beautiful. But how did you…?”

“Emily from the diner painted it. She’s been working on it for weeks.”

“It’s indescribable. I don’t know what to say—thank you.”

“Open it,” she said.

I opened the box to find a gold bracelet with one charm hanging from it lying on the emerald green velvet lining.

“It’s a Wren. Whenever you look at it, I hope you will think of home.” Her voice cracked, and she slowly took her left hand and dabbed at the tear escaping her eye.

“Mom, you promised.” I paused to hug her. “I will never forget home. I don’t need a bracelet to remind me. You’re in my heart, this place is my heritage, and I’ll make us proud. As soon as I finish school, I’m coming back here to help those who’ve always helped me—us.”

“You make me proud to be your mom.”

We had our tear fest and shared our fondest stories, which mostly pertained to the happenings of our small town. Growing up in a place the size of Hatman was a blessing and a curse. While I knew everyone and they knew me, it was hard to escape, and it didn’t prepare me for the life of moving to a much larger city like Denton, when small town life was all I’d ever known.

“Enough of this,” she said.

With a quick burst of energy, she stood and pulled me to my feet. “Let’s get you on the road, so you can get there before dark. I have one more thing for you downstairs.”

I followed her to the kitchen, thinking that her “last gift” was a big box of her delicious cookies made just to my liking—soft and chewy. To my surprise, she handed me yet another present.

“A cell phone? Mom, I know we can’t afford this.”

“I want you to always be able to call. It’s one of those pay-as-you-go kind, and there’re some air-time cards in there I bought with the money I made selling my cookies at Christmas. I’ll mail you some more cards as I can.”

She couldn’t hold back her tears, so she just busied herself with packing up the cookies she’d made, while I put her gifts in the passenger seat of my old, and well used, 1975 Volkswagen Beetle Convertible.

“Did you get your oil changed yesterday?”

“Yes, Mom. We’ve had this conversation and we checked the list. I gotta go. Karina is waiting on me, and I told her I would be there about six o’clock.”

“Go. Have fun. Tell Karina I’m looking forward to meeting her. In fact, call her with your new phone, so she has your number, but do it while you’re getting gas, not driving.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

As I drove through town, I saw the façade of our community through different eyes that day. As the typical teenager, I’d grown up thinking I was a hostage, prisoner to the eyes and ears of the older generations, and I would never have an escape. However, leaving town to start my new journey, I saw opportunity. A chance to make something of myself and come back to help those who’d always been there to help me and my mom. I didn’t see myself as a big city girl, more like I was on loan from the country side, and I would return with interest.

I did as Mom ordered and called Karina with my new phone.

“Hello?” she answered with a questioning tone.

“Hi.” I laughed at her confusion. “Mom got me a new phone and number, which I don’t even know what it is, but it just came up on your screen.”

“That’s awesome. You on your way?”

“Yes, getting gas and hitting the road.”

“Be careful. Don’t play with that phone while you’re driving.”

“Man, you’re a ball-buster and sound like my mom.”

Karina just laughed and hung up on me.

The drive was a long one, but the excitement of my newfound freedom and the road ahead of me made the time pass along with the miles. After driving five hours, I pulled into the dorms at TWU in Denton and found I had enormous amounts of energy and a new purpose in my life.

I was meeting Karina Stillman face-to-face for the very first time; although with the amount of hours we’d spent on the phone, I felt like I had known her for years. The school was gracious enough to make our introduction weeks ago by email, and we’d been talking or emailing daily ever since.

She was a year younger than me, and her background was more privileged, but she came from a broken home and knew what it was like to be raised with a missing father. She had two older brothers who’d fought to be the alpha of the family and caused more rifts than good, she told me.

“You’re here,” a tall brunette squealed as she ran toward me. “I’ve been watching out of the window for a vintage bug to pull up and knew it had to be you. You look just like the picture they sent me.”

“Hmm, they didn’t send me a photo of you.”

“Oh no, that’s my fault. The file I submitted ended up being corrupt, and I never replaced it. I had no idea what it was for, so I didn’t put a rush on it, and they didn’t ask. My bad. Come, let me help you with your things because we’re on the fourth floor.”

It took several trips back and forth to my car to get everything. I was grateful the school let me ship some things in, and I had gift cards from Dr. Palmer for any incidentals. Such a sweet man, he was too good to me and way better than the abusive father I was unfortunate to have had; although, Dr. P didn’t know about any of that.

On my last day of work, he and Sara Beth surprised me with a laptop and monogrammed book bag, complete with a mini-course in how to hook it up to Wi-Fi.

“I’m so glad you’re here. With almost a week before classes start, we have time to learn our way around. Someone’s already put a note under the door about a party on Saturday.”

“A party? Already?”

“It’s a school sponsored welcome party, so it won’t be wild,” she said, raising her palms up in a little dance.

Grateful that the school had introduced us at the beginning of summer, we’d found many things in common. Both of us had long brown hair, mine a bit darker than hers, and we both were only daughters. We were close to the same height, but I had her beat in the hips department. My ass gave new meaning to junk-in-the-trunk.

“Let’s go eat. Do you like sushi?” she asked, while she flipped her head upside down and ran a brush through her hair.

“No, I don’t think so,” I answered with a laugh.

She flipped her hair back and looked at me with her brows scrunched together. “You don’t think so? Have you even tried it?”

“No, I haven’t.” What was I going to tell her? Hatman, a town of five hundred had a five star Sushi restaurant?

“Do you like fish?”

“Love it, all kinds. My ex is a pro fisherman.”

“Good, then you’re trying something new.”

“Is it gross?” I wrinkled up my nose.

“If it were, people wouldn’t flock to it like crazy. C’mon, there’s a place right down the street. It’s called I Love Sushi, and I think you’ll be in good hands.”

The sun had begun to set, so the top down on my car was the best way to see the sights. Karina directed me as I drove the three blocks to the Japanese restaurant.

To other people, the town probably wasn’t much to see, but to me, it was a big change from having nothing but an E-Z Mart and a grocery store.

When we walked in, the restaurant was crowded with people our age and whatever they were cooking smelled divine. Our wait was short, and we were seated in the bar area. Overwhelmed with an extensive menu, I had no clue and couldn’t make a decision. I looked from page to page and tried to comprehend it, but finally gave up.

“Don’t let me embarrass myself. Help me with this menu.” I kept my voice to a whisper. I didn’t want people to know how much of a hick I happened to be.

“You’re too cool. I’ll explain it,” she said with a giggle.

After about thirty minutes, I pretty much understood the various rolls, and we moved on to the next lesson.

Chopsticks.

It took longer than thirty minutes for me to master the art of using chopsticks.

“I think you like a little sushi with your wasabi,” Karina teased.

“You noticed. I’m already hooked on this stuff and the more it burns my sinuses, the better. I think you’ll need a wheelbarrow to haul me outta here.”

“You’ll learn to go easy on the soy sauce. It puffs me up like a balloon if I eat too much.”

Our dinner was fabulous, but expensive. I decided sushi was going to be on-a-treat basis. My scholarship provided extra money, but I still had to be frugal until I could get a part-time job, and according to the nursing school policy, I could apply at the end of the semester for a nurse assistant position at the hospital, provided I passed all of my tests.

The days passed quickly into weeks, and the weeks soon rolled into months. Before long, it was our last week of school before the Christmas holidays. Karina and I were both going home for the school break after we took our last final exam. I’d missed going home for Thanksgiving, but the weather had been bad that week, and Mom and I thought it was best to save the money and come home at Christmas break.