October 1, 2020 is the big day for Pieces To Mend. Join the fun (click here).
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Here's a sneak peak:
I stepped back. Everett. Everett was home. I should be happy or confused—but all I could feel was the familiar hum, the pull that had always been there. I had no idea how long he would stay, but all I could feel was the warmth of hope.
“What is going on?” Mom’s shrill voice pierced my thoughts.
“Nothing.” Folding my arms to hide the tremor in my hands, I scanned the room.
Everett wrote the words in the note, but the idea of him physically coming here and handing over a note seemed too far-fetched. Romantic whims weren’t us.
“I didn’t forget you, Scarlett,” Mom warned. “Do not make a scene.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Frustrated, I turned around—and froze.
In a tailored black suit, Everett Ashley filled the doorframe of the side exit. I knew him, and yet I didn’t. It felt longer than the months since I’d seen him. To me, he seemed to have grown another inch or two, leaving him closer to seven than six feet tall. The scar, once a puckered line from his temple, down and along his jaw, seemed almost invisible. In the dimmed dance hall, I could see the darkened countenance, his pride and temper forever at the ready.
I was all too aware of how close David stood. Everett walked toward me, his stride graceful. I didn’t know if I should retreat or advance. For roughly half my life, he was both my greatest secret and the absolute center of my everything, both good and bad. And here he was, in the flesh.