More Than a Memory Page 3

  “Eden, such hostility with a weird twist of sympathy!” Blaine said, pretending to actually be shocked at my having another dud of a date.

  “You would have been the same way Blaine! This is the twenty-first century, we women can order our own meals and one without an ingredient that makes you retch every time you see it let alone smell it on a plate in front of you.”

  A thought entered my mind and I couldn’t believe it, but it just might work well for both of us. I had to pause a moment for dramatic effect, “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I stopped to take a deep breath. “Blaine will you marry me?” This would solve my problem and keep my mother off of my back about how my time is ticking away. And besides Blaine and I got along well enough, when we weren’t butting heads on the air over our different views. I peeked around my mic and graced him with the biggest smile I could muster, he knew I was just kidding, it was how our on-air relationship worked. And plus, he was more like a brother to me than anything. But if he actually agreed to this farce, I wouldn’t be against actually considering it.

  “Tell you what, Eden, give me five years, if we’re both still single I’ll marry you. I’m still sort of holding out for my sugar mama,” he replied, shrugging one of his shoulders and wagging his eyebrows.

  “You don’t think I could be your sugar mama? After all, I am older than you. And plus you never know, we could be star-crossed lovers.” I batted my lashes in his direction and clasped my hands together bringing them to my chest.

  “Big freaking deal, you’re older than me by ten months! I’d hardly call that cougar status.” We both erupted in a fit of laughter. Wow, imagine that, we were moving extremely off topic. It happened when the two of us started rambling on air, but our boss Mr. Richmond didn’t have the best sense of humor and we were often scolded on the turns our show took. But the listeners loved it and continued to tune in because you never knew what would happen on air. Wasn’t that what it’s all about? Entertaining our listeners?

  “Moving on now, I did receive some mail this weekend that I thought was pretty interesting. I got an invitation to my fifteen year reunion. I can’t believe it’s actually been that long.”

  “Oh wow! Are you going to go? You haven’t been back home since you’ve graduated, right?”

  I wasn’t exactly sure why I brought up the invitation on the air, it wasn’t like I was actually planning on going. And Blaine was right, I hadn’t been back since the day after I graduated High School; the place harbored too many unpleasant memories that I didn’t care to dredge up.

  “That’s right, I’ve made Tennessee my home and don’t really see the need to go back.” I tried to make my statement a finality; hopefully he would catch on and drop it before it progressed any further.

  Blaine leaned across his desk and picked up a single piece of white copy paper. “Speaking of mail, we received an email that I think might change your mind about going to this reunion of yours…”

  That was news to me, someone sent an email? To me? And he was planning on reading it on air?

  I sat up straighter in my chair, “Blaine, let me see what you’ve got there?”

  He waved the paper in the air and then cleared his throat, building up the momentum before he actually started reading from the email. With the positions of our desks it was impossible for me to reach him or the paper without taking off my head phones. But that didn’t stop me from throwing numerous paperclips in his direction; he was lucky that was all I had at my disposal.

  “My Sweet Eden,” my breath instantly hitched. There was only one person who had ever called me that and it had only been the one time, after our first and only kiss… Blaine continued reading on and I couldn’t wrap my head around what I was hearing. He missed me and hoped that I would attend?

  Once Blaine had finally reached the end of the letter, the one that he so publicly displayed over the air, I had tears welled up in my eyes waiting for the moment I would allow them to spill over. As he read the closing and who it was from, all he said was “B,” giving the sender a little bit of anonymity, but I whispered under my breath, “Baylor.”

  “Well, now it’s time for us to take a break, enjoy this next song by...” I didn’t even finish my sentence before I hit the button that would begin to play the next song lined up in the queue. Then I threw off my headphones, pushed back my chair and practically lunged at Blaine for that letter.

  He held it up between his fingers and allowed me to rip it from his grasp. I took it in both of my trembling hands and frantically scanned the letter, reading over what I had just heard moments ago live for the entire Nashville area.

  My Sweet Eden,

  Can you believe that it’s been fifteen years since I’ve last looked into your beautiful chocolate eyes? I remember them as if I had only seen them yesterday. I don’t know what happened all those years ago, but the invitation from the reunion has me reliving our final moments from the past. How are you? What are you doing? Are you well? These are questions I find myself asking on a daily basis desperately wishing I knew the answers. I hope you find it in your heart to come to the reunion and meet with me so we may catch up.

  Sincerely Yours,

  Baylor

  I walked backwards until the back of my legs hit my chair and slowly sat down. He wanted me to come to the reunion? And he didn’t know what happened? Anger surged from deep within my chest from the memory that haunted me from those fifteen years ago.

  I slammed the piece of paper down on my desk and tried to shake off my irritation and disbelief. Putting my headphones back on over my head, I scooted up towards my microphone and tried to focus on my work and not that damn email which was now burning a hole on my desk.

  “Eden, I think you should go,” Blaine quietly said on the other side of the room. Of course he would wait to say that after I was already resituated in my seat so I couldn’t come after him.

  I wasn’t going to allow myself to get all worked up, so I was going to try and be as nonchalant as I could. I picked up the stack of papers that had notes for the show scribbled on them and started shuffling them and making sure they were in the proper order, even though it was a completely unnecessary task. “I don’t have the vacation time,” I simply said.

  Blaine leaned his head to the right and I felt him staring at me. He knew just as well as I did that I had plenty of vacation time saved up; hell, the station had been begging me to use some of it.

  I couldn’t tell you how I floated through the rest of my shift; thank heavens for Blaine stealing the show that morning. My stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t eaten since the doughnut I scarfed down before we went on air. Blaine made it a habit to bring in the fried doughy goodness every Monday morning, knowing I couldn’t resist. He was my enabler. It was a wonder how I didn’t have a fat ass that supported all the sweets I consumed.

  Oh that’s right, Jules was a Nazi Zumba queen and made me accompany her just about every night, so I worked off every single unnecessary calorie that entered through my parted lips. It wasn’t very often when I could come up with a viable excuse that she would believe so that I could skip Zumba, so I made it my mission to make her listen to me groan and complain over the course of the hellacious hour-long class.

  That night was no different, but she hardly let me get a word in edgewise since she’d heard the show that morning.

  “Eden Nicole Richardt, you are going to that reunion,” Julia said with a cocky flair that she’d claimed as her own. She busted out the middle name so I knew she meant business. No one ever used my entire name unless it was my momma and I was on the receiving end of her look.

  “No, I’m not. I’ve told you what happened; I don’t think I could show my face at the reunion.” I said from upside down as I was reaching for my toes, trying to stretch before class. “It’s sweet that Baylor took the time to track me down and write that email, but he doesn’t think he did anything wrong. He actually says that he doesn’t even know what he did to run me off all t
hose years ago!”

  “Maybe it was a misunderstanding?” My head snapped up to hers and she raised her hands in a halting motion, “That’s all I’m saying. Besides how could he not acknowledge you with your fabulous pair of knockers? Even I’m jealous.”

  Jules always knew how to make me smile, and that was why we were friends. Well, one of the many reasons. I looked down at my chest which was encased with a sports bra and my workout tank, “Sadly, the girls didn’t develop until after High School. I was a late bloomer.”

  I knew the smart-ass remark was coming when she threw her head back and started laughing. Full blown hysterics. “You were part of the itty bity titty committee? Oh dear God, that’s the best news I’ve heard all week.”

  I placed my hand on my now jutted-out hip, “And why in the world would my lack of a rack be good news to you?”

  She shrugged a shoulder, “Ok, Dr. Seuss. It means that you haven’t been perfect all of your life, gives the rest of us some hope.”

  Now it was my turn to laugh and I had to end up clutching my stomach because my side began to ache, “You’re hilarious. Me, perfect? Never. I’m thirty-three, never been married. Hell, at this rate I may end up as the crazy cat lady.”

  “You’d have to actually own a cat to be considered the crazy cat lady, and you hate cats.”

  “Too true,” I sighed for a moment, actually mulling over the possibility of going home. In my heart I already knew the answer; I had to find out exactly what happened all those years ago.

  “Girl, I know that look, you’re going, aren’t you?”

  Chapter 3

  Eden

  Once I succumbed to the inevitable and agreed to go to Oregon, Jules squealed with delight and immediately made arrangements for me to spruce up my hair.

  Soon I found myself sitting in Julia’s chair with my entire head wrapped in foil.

  Julia was the manager of Violet Hair Salon and had been there ever since she graduated beauty school. That was how I met her, I came in one day a frazzled mess because my cheap and stubborn self used an at-home coloring kit for my hair and turned it bright orange. She threatened me that day that if I even so much as looked at a box of hair color in the store again she would shave my head. We’d been best friends ever since.

  The ambiance in Violet was so soothing and relaxing, and the décor was amazing and extremely eye catching. Each hairdresser’s station had a deep violet metal rolling tool chest for storage. Such a unique idea—who knew that tool chests could be used for other things besides storing tools?

  “Your hair is going to look absolutely amazing with mahogany highlights. Against your chestnut hair, I’ll be totally jealous. Although I really wish you would let me give you a decent cut, something new and fun.” Jules knew she was pushing it but often suggested cutting off my hair. It stopped just in the middle of my back, and a few layers and a trim was all that I was ever willing to do. Having to be at work at five a.m. every morning, it usually ended up in a ponytail or tucked into a hat on any given day. So I didn’t see the need to cut it in a style that would require me to make a conscious effort to style it every morning, especially when I rolled into work half asleep anyway.

  With my hair draped over the shampoo bowl and my neck uncomfortably resting on that pesky indention in the basin, I tried to relax my nerves but when the curvature of your neck doesn’t quite lay right it’s hard not to tense up. The water was just the right temperature, though, as Julia ran her fingers through my thick strands of hair.

  “I think I’m having second thoughts on you running off to Oregon for a week. I mean who will I hang out with? I’ll have Eden withdrawals,” Julia whined as she shut off the water valve and draped a towel over my sopping wet hair.

  It was hard for me not to literally roll my eyes at her and her uncanny ability to whine. “Girl, please, you can hang out with Chloe while I’m gone.”

  She wrapped the towel around my head like a turban and pointed her finger instructing me to go back and sit in her chair so she could start snipping.

  “Chloe ran off with the mailman.” My eyes met hers in the mirror that was before us and I quirked a brow. “No, really, she ran off with the guy who comes in and delivers our mail. Apparently they’ve had a fling for a while now. Packed up her kids and left her husband. Walter, her husband, comes in every other day to see if we’ve heard from her. Sad story,” she reiterated while shaking her head, then grabbing her comb in one hand and placing the other at the crown of my head to try and get all the tangles out. I cringed every single time she did this; she had no compassion for those who are tender-headed and I was one of the worst. Growing up, I cried every morning when my mom brushed my hair before school. It got to the point where I had to sleep with my hair braided just to keep it from getting tangled while I slept.

  I looked down at the light violet-colored cape that was draping my lap and bit my lip as she quickly finished dragging the comb through my locks. A sigh of relief was released when she finally finished, but it didn’t last long as she proceeded to grab the scissors and began her assault on my hair. I was always nervous going in there but I shouldn’t be, Julia knew what she was doing and always did a fabulous job.

  “Wow, her and her husband had been married for quite some time, too. Well, it’s not like I’ll be gone forever, it’s only going to be seven days, I think you’ll survive.” But the question was, would I survive? Sure, I’d seen my parents over the years, but it was always when they flew out to see me. Could I really make it out unscathed after sleeping under my parents’ roof for seven days and six consecutive nights? I could just see it now, my mother bombarding me with her numerous inane questions about when would I going to get married? When would I finally settle down? I stared down at the mass amount of my hair on the floor in front of me and wondered how I would survive a week in my parents’ house without wanting to strangle them, and how I would survive talking to Baylor about why I moved away without wanting to strangle him. Fifteen years was a long time to not step foot onto Oregon soil, and all of a sudden it didn’t seem like it had been enough.

  As I stepped off the plane at my gate in Eugene, Oregon, I wanted to sink to my knees and kiss the solid ground beneath me. I wasn’t the biggest fan of flying to begin with, but when you had such horrible turbulence during an almost three hour flight from Denver to Oregon, I wished I had chosen to make the horrendous thirty-eight hour car ride instead.

  Figuring that I would look pretty ridiculous if I actually attempted those actions, I decided to forgo my pleasantries with the state of Oregon in order to retrieve my luggage from the baggage claim.

  I watched the carousel move along with other people’s suitcases, waiting for mine to come through on the conveyor belt. Once every single item was claimed, it was apparent that I, as well as a handful of men, wouldn’t be getting our belongings today.

  The three gentlemen and I shuffled our feet and grumbled under our breath all the way to the airline ticket counters.

  “Left behind in Denver, you can retrieve your belongings in the morning,” the agent informed the four of us.

  Great, all I had with me now was my purse and my laptop that was used for my carryon. My visit was already off to a grand start.

  Walking along the tiled floor, past baggage claim where I was just minutes earlier, I heard a screech which caused me to stop in my tracks. “Eden!” The excitement in my mother’s voice was astounding.

  I turned around and took in every inch of Bette Richardt’s appearance.

  My parents had visited me several times since I’d lived in Nashville, but she had never looked happier than she did as she stood before me.

  As I moved closer her smiled beamed even brighter, making the crow’s feet around her eyes more apparent. It was then I took in how much gray had taken over in her once-chestnut hair.

  “Momma!” I exclaimed as I threw my arms around her neck and held on tight. In that moment, mother and daughter reuniting and clinging to one another, I was glad
to be home. She released her clutch and allowed some space between us, but remained holding onto my hand and took her time to glance over my entire body.

  “Eden, baby, you look absolutely great. Oh, I’m so glad that you’re home. I know you told me that you were coming but it had been so long, I didn’t want to get excited until I actually saw you here.” A wave of guilt consumed me. It wasn’t my parents’ fault for what happened, yet I was punishing them because of my naivety. She looked at the ground around me, and then brought her eyes back up to mine, “Where are your bags, dear?”

  Releasing a deep sigh, “Back in Denver, I can come back tomorrow morning to pick them up.”

  She braced her arm around my back and held onto my shoulder as she ushered me out of the airport, going on about how excited my dad was going to be to see me and how I could borrow one of her nightgowns to sleep in.

  I wasn’t able to get a word in edgewise as she didn’t let up a minute until we pulled into the driveway of my childhood home. Even though I had changed, it had not. I had to chuckle because even the same floral patterned furniture still graced the formal living room.

  I could just picture Dean jumping up and down on that couch like it was yesterday. My mom harped on us time and time again for walking through the living room with our shoes on. Even though no one ever used it and was more for decoration, she just couldn’t bear the thought of mud and dirt being tracked in throughout the room. And then one day Dean threw off his sneakers at the front door and took a flying leap onto that couch. Even in his bare feet he knew my mom would’ve had his ass if she saw him defacing her precious expensive piece.

  I wished all the memories I harbored were as good as that one, so going back there wouldn’t have felt so unbearable.

  Making it my mission to drive to the airport first thing in the morning made it that much easier to leave the house. My mom offered to drive me, but after all the chatting and reminiscing about the past that we had done the night before, I needed a little breather without her tagging along. She brought out old photo albums and keepsakes from my childhood and while it was nice to relive everything, after a while I was bored out of my mind. That was, until she brought out the album that contained pictures of Dean and Baylor. My heart shattered even more seeing how happy the three of us were at the time. We were unstoppable and nothing could’ve come between us, or so I thought.