Lyrics of a Small Town by Abbi Glines

Twenty-Seven

Leaving Saul’s bed at four in the morning wasn’t easy. However, work started off busy and didn’t let up. Emily had woken up with a migraine and we were shorthanded. Hillya had called her other part-time employees, but no one had been able to come in on short notice.

It wasn’t until one thirty that we got our first lull in the day and could take a moment. Hillya sat down on the stool behind the counter. “I should be making some food for the evening crowd, but I need to sit for a minute,” she told me.

I walked over to the espresso machine to make myself a cappuccino. I had never required caffeine as much as I did today. Everything I had made this morning was gone and Hillya only had three pecan muffins and some shortbread cookies left in the bakery display. I knew she had more things in the cooler to put in the oven but neither of us went to do that.

“Want something?” I asked her, as the machine started brewing the shot of espresso.

Hillya shook her head. “Nothing you can make. Now, I could use some younger legs and a better back,” she replied.

I finished making my cappuccino then went to take the vacant stool. It did feel good to get off my feet. I needed to find time to get more sleep. The past two days hadn’t had much of that.

“Is your mother coming down anytime this summer to see you?” Hillya asked.

We hadn’t talked much about my family, especially my mother. Knowing what I did now, it seemed weird to talk about her to Hillya. I shook my head. “No,” I replied.

“I’m sure she misses you,” Hillya said.

I thought about that a moment and decided I would be honest here. “She misses not having me around to control.”

Hillya frowned then. “What do you mean?”

“Mom and I are very different,” I told her. If she was going to open a door, I would test it to see how far I could walk into it.

“How so?”

“My mom is vain; she is very judgmental and she has an idea of what my life should look like that I don’t agree with. I love her, I overlook her issues, I accept her for who she is. She just can’t do the same for me,” I replied.

Hillya tilted her head to the side. “You must be more like Honey,” she said.

I looked at her then and decided to walk through the door. “Or like my father.”

Hillya didn’t give much away, but I could see her tense. She forced a smile that didn’t match the uncertainty in her eyes. “Did you know him? Your father?” Hillya asked me.

“No. I never got the chance. He died when I was two years old. My mom refused to speak of him or answer my questions about him. It’s something I think will always stand between us.” I finished and I waited. The ball was in Hillya’s court now. This wasn’t how I had imagined this conversation would play out, but it was happening and I realized I was ready for it.

“How did he die?” she asked me.

“She said a motorcycle accident somewhere in Georgia, but she has never been honest with me about things and I don’t know if that’s true.”

Hillya sat there silently for several moments and I wondered what I would do if she changed the subject. Could I do that? We were so close to it now and I wanted to know. I had wanted to know most of my life. Now, that it was opened up, I didn’t think I could let her close it again.

“Perhaps she had her reasons,” Hillya said finally.

All my life I had taken the responses about my father and accepted them. My mom would tell me nothing and only get angry when I asked any questions. My Gran would say she didn’t know more than my mother had told her. They had both lied to me. If Hillya was who I believed her to be then I wasn’t going to let her lie to me too. Gran had sent me here for a reason, and I didn’t think it was because of my baking.

“Can I see the photo of Rebel?” I asked her then.

Her chin shot up and her eyes went wide as she looked at me in surprise or maybe it was shock. I waited for her to think it through and respond. I wasn’t in a hurry; I had waited my whole life and I could wait a few more minutes.

“You know,” she whispered.

That was my answer. The one I needed. The clarification that my father had been Hillya’s son. My gran had sent me here with that letter for this reason. She hadn’t told me because she was doing what my mother wanted, but she was leaving the clues there in front of me to figure it out myself.

“I didn’t at first,” I told her.

“Then how… who?” she asked, still searching my face for answers.

I didn’t want to bring up Rio yet. “I found my mother’s old letters in my gran’s attic. They were written to a guy named Rebel. He was also my father, or at least reading the letters it appeared that way.”

Hillya stood up from the stool and wiped her hands on her apron. “I should have told you. Honey said I could if I wanted to.” She gave me a sad smile. “The letter she sent me. She said, well, would you like to read it?” Hillya asked.

I nodded. “Please,” I replied.

Hillya walked over to the front door and locked it and turned the sign to closed. Then she walked to the door leading to the back. “Come with me, Henley,” she said then went through it and I stood up and followed.

I had never been in Hillya’s office until this moment. The door had been open at times and I had glimpsed inside from a distance, but this was my first time actually inside it. There were several photos around the room, a round rose-colored rug, a large white chair and ottoman and fresh flowers in a vase.

“Here,” Hillya said, taking a letter from her desk drawer and handing it to me. I held it a moment, recognizing Gran’s handwriting before opening it up.

Hillya,

If you are reading this then I am gone. The girl who brought it to you is our granddaughter, Henley. She is bright, talented, intelligent, and a human being to be proud of. Just as I hold regrets for the things I never told her, I also leave this world with regrets for not forcing my daughter to give you the opportunity to know your granddaughter. It was a disservice to you. It was wrong and something I will stand before God and answer to. Please forgive me. I made mistakes out of fear that Henley would be kept from me if I didn’t follow her mother’s demands.

Henley is here for the summer to complete a list of things I asked of her if I didn’t survive. She’s a talent in the kitchen. She makes the best gluten, dairy, and nut-free sweets you’ve ever eaten. And she makes these fancy bowls with her own homemade granola the kids are all about these days. Hire her. Let her update that menu of yours and get to know her. Right the wrong done to both of you.

I want her to know she comes from a line of strong women. Love my girl for me and I’ll be sure to give your son a big hug when I see him.

Honey

I closed the letter and blinked to clear my vision as the first tear rolled slowly down my face followed by the next one. I wiped them away and held the letter out to Hillya. “Thank you,” I said hoarsely.

“You keep it,” Hillya said.

I nodded and sniffled as I tucked it into my shorts pocket.

She stepped around the desk and picked up a frame as she did. Then she walked to stand in front of me and handed it to me. “This was your father,” she said.

I wiped at more tears as they spilled onto my cheeks then took the frame and stared down at it. He was older than the photos he had been in with my mom but not much older. He had facial hair in this one.

“From the day he was born that boy had me on my knees in prayer. Never a dull moment, never a moment’s peace, and he if it wasn’t for that charming smile of his, I think he might have killed me.” She said this with fondness and love in her voice. “You have his smile. It was the first thing I noticed that day. After I read Honey’s letter, I wasn’t sure my heart could take it. Having you here as a reminder of all I had lost. But then you smiled and, in that moment, you looked just like him. It was the first time in twenty years I had seen his smile.”

This time she was the one reaching up to wipe the tears from her face. Thinking she might be my grandmother and knowing she was changed things. I wanted to study her more, listen to her talk, I wanted time with her. Time I had lost. Time that was taken away from me by my mother’s selfishness.

“I should have told you and I am sorry I didn’t. I just didn’t know how and I feared you may leave. I didn’t know what your mother had told you about your father and I worried you might not want to be here if you knew. Every time I thought about telling you, I backed out of it. I was just getting to know you and I didn’t want to lose you.”

I understood that and I was glad now that I had been the one to say something. “Did he ever see me?” I asked the one question my mother refused to answer.

Hillya smiled and went over to her desk and picked up another photo and brought it back to me. She handed it to me and the emotion that slammed into my chest when I saw the image was overwhelming.

I stared down at the younger version of my father. He was holding a tiny baby wrapped in a pink blanket smiling down at her… at me. He was so young, and he looked so happy.

“They were going to be married,” Hillya said. “I was so worried about him being a father at such a young age because he was still so immature and wild. He wasn’t though. He was determined that he would be a good father and husband,” she paused. “But things came out and your mother took you and left. She was young too and terrified. Rebel had never been easy to love and he often hurt those that loved him the most.”

“Rio,” I said his name without thinking. Understanding dawned on me and I spoke it aloud.

Hillya gave me a sad smile. “Why am I not surprised you already have made that connection? You’ve been here a month and you’ve connected the dots. There are people in this town who still haven’t.”

“It was Rio’s mother then? Her being pregnant that sent my mom away?” I asked because my dots were not fully connected yet. She may think I had it all worked out but I didn’t.

Hillya nodded. “Yes, Rio. Rebel left me two parts of himself on this earth when he was gone and I’ve missed out on both of them. Manda, Rio’s mom, took off before he was born and he was seventeen when I saw him for the first time. He came in here and ordered a coffee and a cupcake. Those eyes were Rebel’s and his voice. If I had closed my eyes, I would have sworn Rebel was right here with me. When he left with his things, I closed the door and went and cried for hours in my office.”

I had a brother.

I stood there a moment and let it sink in. Overnight, I had a family I had missed out on knowing. It was right here in this small town all along.

“He will want to know. He’ll want to meet you,” I told her.

She lit up. “He would?”

I nodded.

“I would love that,” she said on a sob, and I moved forward and wrapped my arms around her.

She clung to me then and cried harder. This was my grandmother and my careless, wild father had made mistakes, but he had wanted me. He had been looking at me with love in his face. He had held me.

Tears began to form in my eyes again and while I stood there with Hillya as she cried, I cried too. We had all lost something, but there was time. We had time to change what we could.

Not everyone gets this chance and not everyone understands the importance when they do. I did and although my gran had kept this from me, I understood her reasons and loved her too much to hold it against her. She had been afraid of losing me. She had also attempted to make it right at her death.

The list she had sent me had made me so angry. I hadn’t wanted to think of her dying. Yet in it, she had left me so much.

Thanks, Gran.