Lyrics of a Small Town by Abbi Glines

Sixteen

Rio was asleep on the sofa when I walked in the door last night around eleven. I tossed a blanket over him before I went and got ready for bed. I barely remembered my head hitting the pillow. When my alarm went off, it felt as if I had just lain down.

I left the house and headed for work with Rio still on the sofa asleep.

Hillya was busy icing cupcakes when I arrived to start the new granola for the acai bowl I intended on calling the Summer Splash. She had Emily rolling out dough and the local country radio station was playing. Emily mumbled a good morning and looked as tired as I felt. Hillya had a travel mug full of coffee beside her and was wide awake and focused.

We spent the next hour baking; Emily did some dancing when a song she liked came on, and Hillya asked me questions about my new acai bowl recipes. She was intrigued by the bowls and I knew she wanted to be able to make them herself.

My mornings here were becoming something I looked forward to and enjoyed. I felt like I had found a place I fit in and people I liked being around. Gran had known this and thanks to her, here I was. The next item on the list would need to get done on Sunday. I was hoping to get two of the requests accomplished that day, but I was finding that Gran’s list wasn’t always cut and dry.

“What ingredients do you need for the Banana Rama acai bowl you were telling me about?” Hillya asked me.

“Several, do you have some paper? I can write it down,” I replied.

“Emily, go to my office and find me a pen and paper please,” Hillya told her niece.

Emily did a little shimmy to Little Big Town’s newest song about beer and whiskey on her way out of the kitchen. Hillya just shook her head and smiled. I went back to mixing more granola and my thoughts drifted to the things Drake had said last night. I had been going to talk to Rio about it, but he hadn’t been awake.

“I’m sorry,” Emily said, coming back into the kitchen holding a picture frame.

Hillya looked at it and frowned.

“I might have done a hip kick and I knocked this picture of Rebel off the shelf. It broke, but I’ll buy you a new frame,” she said.

I don’t know what else was said after that because my brain locked on the name Rebel. I stared down at the granola in the bowl, not wanting either of them to see the shock on my face. I had to work this through in my head before I asked any questions. How likely was it that there were two people named Rebel in this small town in the past forty years? I’m thinking that possibility is low.

Emily had said Rebel. I’d heard it very clearly. There wasn’t another name I could think of that I could be confusing it with. I looked up and Hillya was gone from the kitchen. Emily appeared fine though and was pulling muffins from the oven. Where had the photo gone? Did Hillya take it back to her office? Why hadn’t I listened?

“Where did Hillya go?” I asked as casually as I could.

Emily shrugged. “Uh, to the office I think,” she replied.

“I needed to give her the ingredients.” I also wanted a reason to go in her office and look at the broken photo.

“Oh yeah,” Emily said scrunching her nose. “She left without getting those.”

I tried to think of something to say that didn’t make me look suspicious. “Uh, is she upset over the frame?” I asked.

Emily shook her head. “No the pic is okay. Just broke the frame.”

I nodded and smiled, wishing she would say the name of the person in the picture again. “Good,” I said. “Maybe I should go find her and remind her about the ingredients.”

Emily was doing a hip sway dance with the music while she poured batter into a pan. She didn’t respond. I could wait. I probably should wait. I picked up the bowl and poured the granola onto a baking sheet, glancing back toward the hallway leading to the office. The answer to so many questions could be in there, but if it was then…

Gran.

Gran had sent me here.

Just like she had sent me to the farmer’s market.

I stared at the door, trying to put pieces together and make sense of it all. If Rio was right and the tool boxes had not been the point of that visit, then was my coming here to work because I liked baking not the point of this job?

“Emily?” I asked looking at her.

She lifted her head to meet my gaze. “Yeah?”

I took a deep breath then just asked. “Who is Rebel?”

Emily glanced back at the hallway then looked at me. “Hillya’s son. His real name was Ryan but no one called him that. He died a long time ago though. Before I was born. He was my mom’s only cousin. Hillya only had him,” she said in a whisper.

I stood there staring at her. Hillya had a son. His name was Rebel. He died before Emily was born. Gran… was this it? Is this why you sent me here?

“How old was he?” I heard myself ask her, but it felt as if I was a spectator watching the scene instead of being a part of it.

“Twenty. Car accident or maybe a motorcycle, I can’t remember what Mom said. Somewhere in Georgia, I believe. He was in college. I don’t remember the details. It’s been a long time since I asked Mom who he was,” Emily told me still whispering.

I managed a nod and replied, “Poor Hillya.”

She agreed and then I went back to making the granola because what else was I supposed to do. Gran knew and I now had no doubt why I was here, but did Hillya know… did she know about me?

The rest of the morning was a blur. I messed up two drink orders, forgot to give someone change, and dropped an entire tray of granola on the floor. I kept looking at Hillya, trying to find the resemblance. Then there was Emily. Our parents were first cousins. Did we truly look alike and just not see it? Others had mentioned it. Hillya never had.

By the time the lunch crowd was gone and the afternoon crowd began to slow some, I had almost talked myself into asking Hillya a few questions to see if she acted weird. She may be clueless but then she may be waiting for me to figure it out. Did she think I knew? What if she assumed my mom had told me or my gran? There was so many questions and my head felt like it was going to explode.

“You two can leave. I have an evening shift coming in and I’ll stay until they get here,” Hillya called to us as we wiped down the front while we had no customers.

“Want to go shopping?” Emily asked, looking hopeful.

“I need sleep,” I told her because this morning that would have been true. Right now, I needed to be alone. I also needed to get in Gran’s attic and see if I found anything.

Emily sighed. “Yeah, I probably do too. I think I drank too many espressos though.”

I managed a smile and went to take off my apron, heading for the back. Hillya was pulling a lemon pound cake from the oven when I walked in. I wanted to study her closer but knew I couldn’t just stand there and stare at her. If she knew I was her granddaughter, wouldn’t she have told me? I also wanted desperately to go see the photo of Rebel in her office. She sat the pound cake on the island in the middle of the room and then looked at me.

“Are you sure there is nothing more I can do before I go?” I asked her, wanting to ask her things far more important but afraid to.

She smiled at me, but I could see she was exhausted. Her eyes looked tired and I was worried about her. She shook her head. “No, I’ll be leaving soon too. Go on home and get some rest. You’ve had a busy two days.”

It was then she tilted her head to the side and sighed with a smile that I saw it. Or should I say, I saw me. It’s an odd thing. Looking at someone else and realizing you resemble them. I could see myself doing something just like that while looking at my reflection in the mirror. I had to shake myself out of this and stop gawking at the woman though.

“Uh, okay,” I said heading for the back door. “See you tomorrow,” I called out.

“Bye, Henley,” she replied and I held up a hand to wave but didn’t look back at her.