Call Me Michigan (6 page)

“You always brought us your sweet tea. Mason hated sweet tea.” She grinned.

“He knew you loved it,” Mrs. Stiles replied, and Taylor crossed her arms in front of her body, feeling her fingertips brush up against the cuffs of Mason’s jacket.

“I did,” she admitted. His mom had always prepared it fresh, extra for them, and they all had pretended it was her way of telling them that she loved each and every one of them.

“Did? You no longer like sweet tea?”

Taylor hadn’t had sweet tea in a very long time. In the big city, she had once tried it, but it never came close to what she remembered it to be, so she gave up on it.

“I stopped a lot of things when I was in Michigan and the city.” She sighed, and Stella walked over to the covered sofa, sitting down on it.

“You know, all the time Mason and Ashley were a couple, I never saw her wear Mason’s college jacket.” The topic change made Taylor grit her teeth. She rubbed her chest as her heart did a few painful thuds. As much as Taylor tried to pretend differently, she was more than a little jealous that Ashley had been with him.

“He gave it to me when he drove me home,” she explained. “Probably pity on his part.”

“I kinda figured that you didn’t steal it, sweetness,” Mason’s mother winked, chuckling quietly. “Sit, little Collins girl.”

Taylor shook her head at that nickname, almost tearing up. It had always made her feel protected.

“You do realize I have a little sister, right?” Taylor teased, and Mason’s mom lowered her eyes to her hands.

“I do. I realize, too, that though you changed a lot, some things never change,” she commented. “Did you know that cowboys only fall in love once? Either they are lucky and will end up spending their life with that lady, or they’ll forever hunt the feeling, never finding true happiness. Seems the same goes for cowgirls, don’t you think?”

“Mrs. Stiles –”

“Call me Stella,” Mason’s mother insisted, and Taylor watched her for a few seconds.

“So this is it, huh? I’m really a grown-up if you offer me first names,” she joked, not being able to sit. Instead, she paced the small room, pulling Mason’s jacket closer around her body.

“Mason’s still everythin’ that brings you comfort, just like he was over a decade ago. I always thought you’d end up being my daughter-in-law, and even now, my heart soars knowing you’re back.” Stella got up and reached for a frame on the desk. “Mason always smiled widest when you were around,” she continued, rendering Taylor speechless. She walked over to the window, glancing over at the old farmhouse.

The porch light was on, and it illuminated the well-kept wood. The house had always looked small from the barn, but Taylor knew the long hallway inside that led to a kitchen, a living room, the pantry, and a bathroom, then having stairs that brought you upstairs. Mason’s room, an office, the Stiles’ bedroom, and a bathroom had been found there. Now, she could see multi-colored lights spin in what used to be his sanctuary, and she guessed it was his daughter’s new room.

“On nights when Mase is at work, Becca needs those lights. It’s as if she feels him being out of the house then,” Stella observed next to her, joining her at the window.

“She most likely knows the sounds of Mason’s truck leaving the driveway,” Taylor stated drily, and Stella laughed.

“That might be true, too. I like my version better.” Stella winked and then touched Taylor’s arm, drawing her attention. The other woman had gone serious. “Why are you here, honey?”

Taylor rested her hands on the windowsill, lowering her head. “Tim isn’t home and Tammy’s away at college. The house felt empty yet too crowded. I … I haven’t felt like myself in months and thought coming here would ease my mind,” she answered truthfully and then took a few fortifying breaths.

“Did it work?”

Taylor thought for a moment. “Yes and no. Not the way I’d hoped, but everything’s better than being in that house and being reminded of my parents’ expectations at every turn.”

Mason’s mother smiled at that and then turned to her with a smirk. “Have you ever considered that it wasn’t the place that brought you comfort, but the knowledge that Mason was close?”

While it most likely was the truth, Taylor had a protest on the tip of her tongue. In the end, she decided to stay quiet, though.

“Anyway, how are you supposed to feel like yourself when you look like an imposter?”

Taylor looked down at herself, Mason’s jacket being the only thing that didn’t mark her a city girl.

“Come with me,” Stella demanded in her typical mom-voice, making Taylor feel cradled again.

She turned off the lamp and then capped the flame inside the oil lantern. For a second, she wondered if she’d be able to return after Stella had led her to wherever. But she figured she needed to face the music at some point, so going home really was the only right thing to do. Frankly, her heart sank at that thought.

Stella led her from the barn toward the house, letting Taylor enter first. As much as she had hung out in the barn, she’d barely ever been inside the actual home. It was similar to hers, with the hallway all but separating the house and leading straight to the back door, yet the kitchen at the end was on the wrong side.

The stairs to her right didn’t allow for a look to that side, but Taylor couldn’t help but wish for a chance to sneak around. As it was, the house had a warm, comforting feeling, and she remembered racing up the stairs on one or two occasions, coming in and running right up to help Mason carry some CDs or whatnot from there to the barn.

“He has never once given you the tour, has he?” Stella wondered from behind her, pulling Taylor from her pondering.

“I never asked, and he never offered, so no,” she confessed, shrugging her shoulders.

“We have a laundry room through here,” she pointed, gesturing toward a door to Taylor’s left. “Pantry’s right next to it. There is a room below the stairs now. It used to be part of the living room, but we made that a little smaller and turned the other room into a spare bedroom. It’s where I stay. Mason would prefer if I’d stay upstairs, but no.” She didn’t elaborate, and Taylor knew better than to poke. “So next to the bedroom is the living room, and across from it the kitchen. Between the pantry and kitchen, there’s a guest bathroom.” They had slowly started walking down the hallway, and Taylor had to grin at the glittering circles that adorned the walls.

“Becca loves coloring, but stayin’ inside the lines is hard for her … and so is stayin’ inside a coloring book.” Stella sighed, and Taylor knelt in front of the lines. They were all about the same height, and she figured the least you could do was make it look as if there was a purpose.

“Do you have empty pictures frames?” Stella looked at her, puzzled, but then went in search for some while Taylor’s smile slipped from her lips.

If she had reacted differently that night at the bus station, would those be the drawings of her daughter? Would they be a family here, she and Mason? Was it possible to find true love at sixteen?

“A penny for your thoughts,” Stella offered from somewhere behind her, and Taylor wiped away a stray tear that had escaped her eyes. She cleared her throat, looking at the floor.

“Did you find one?”

Stella leaned against the wall next to her, handing her some frames while guarding her expression.

“I didn’t know which size you needed,” she mumbled, her voice full of emotions that Taylor didn’t want to analyze. Instead, she picked the frames she liked best, peeling away the foil and taking off the back covers. Then she held up two, framing Becca’s drawings.

“In the morning, you should put those up. It’ll make her feel special. Besides that, you can tell her to color only inside it. Otherwise, the frames won’t fit any longer. It might not work, but it’s worth a try,” she explained, standing up while yawning.

“You know, my original plan was to give you one of Mason’s lumberjack shirts, but now … how about you stay for the night? We don’t have a guestroom anymore, but since Mason’s at work, I’m sure he won’t mind you stayin’ in his bed. Especially not if you won’t find any sleep at home.”

Involuntarily, Taylor’s eyes darted up to the ceiling as if she’d be able to look straight into his bedroom. Her heart beat erratically at the thought of staying where he most likely was unguarded – and uncovered.

“I can’t,” she whispered even though she wanted nothing more. “It’s his bed, and he’s not here for us to –”

“Shut up, girl,” Stella fussed softly. “He won’t be home until tomorrow evenin’, so let’s get you to bed.”

They never had finished the tour, but that didn’t matter. She followed Mason’s mother upstairs, reaching for the door she knew to be his, but Stella stilled her hand on the handle, making Taylor remember the colorful lights.

“That’s Becca’s room now, and Mason moved into the master bedroom,” Stella explained. She paused in front of a hallway closet to get a towel for her, and then she led her to the bedroom, turning on the light.

It was a simple room. A king-size bed was pushed against the right side of the wall across from the window, then there were two dark dressers and an oak wood floor. Glitter paintings covered the walls, and as much as Taylor tried, she couldn’t find one free spot. It couldn’t be more obvious that Mason was devoted to his daughter. Next to her stood a dark chair, a gray hoodie hanging over the back while neatly folded black sweatpants laid on the seat.

Stella walked over to one dresser while Taylor brushed her fingertips over Mason’s navy blue bedding, almost smiling as she realized that, like her, he didn’t seem to make his bed.

“Here, it’s one of his shirts. Just put it next to the washing machine in the morning.” Stella handed over the towel and the shirt, before turning on the lamp above the bed.

“Thank you,” Taylor whispered.

Stella nodded and then gave her a soft smile. “Thank you for havin’ breakfast with me tomorrow.” She winked, leaving the room afterward. Taylor crossed the floor aimlessly, just taking a moment to breathe. Here, in his space, she felt surprisingly close to Mason, realizing that Stella had been right about the person, not the place, bringing her comfort.

She went into the bathroom, finding his toiletries lined up next to the sink. She hesitated a moment and then reached out to sniff his cologne and his aftershave before mentally scolding herself for no longer being a teen. She rested her hand left and right of the sink, taking her own appearance in as she watched herself in the mirror. She had gained a little weight, but her cheeks were still hollow and her skin too pale due to the lack of sleep.

There was a knock on the doorframe, and Stella held out a spare toothbrush for her. “I thought you might need this. I swear, now, I’m really out of your hair. Good night.” She left again, and Taylor proceeded to brush her teeth, smiling to herself. It didn’t matter that she and Mason weren’t a couple, but something as mundane as brushing your teeth seemed infinitely intimate if you shared a sink with a person. Shaking her head at her useless thoughts, she brushed out her hair and then walked back into the bedroom. She didn’t think twice; the t-shirt lay forgotten in the bathroom as she went for Mason’s hoodie. It fell mid-thigh and smelled like heaven. She crawled under the sheets, switched off the lamp, and was asleep almost the second her head hit the pillow.

Mason parked his truck, yawning. It was two a.m., and he wanted nothing more than crawl into his bed, have a good few hours of sleep, and then have breakfast with his daughter. His mind was on everything and nothing. He couldn’t even muster the strength to open the car door. While he was glad that he’d been sent home early, it still was gruesome up until that point.

The porch light flickered to life, and his mom stepped out in her morning gown. Forcing himself to move, he finally left his truck, wishing for a split second that someone else entirely was waiting for him at home.

“Are you okay, son?” his mother asked, hugging him tightly as soon as he was within reach. He shook his head, pushing past Stella to kick off his boots next to the door.

“We had to cut a couple out of a wreck. They were barely conscious, but they held on to each other. They didn’t once let go. The woman died on the table during surgery. It was sad, yet incredibly beautiful to see how much they loved each other. It’s …” He shook his head, trailing off.

“Mason …”

“Mom, please, I just want to –”

“Son,” she interrupted him, and he gave her a look over his shoulder.

“Breakfast. I promise we’ll talk at breakfast,” he assured her and then walked up the stairs to check on his daughter. He opened Becca’s door and watched her sleep for a few seconds before walking over to kiss her forehead. He left the room and closed the door behind him to find his mother had followed him up the stairs.

“Listen, Mason, you can’t …” his mother started, but stopped as he pushed into his bedroom and his eyes fell on the sleeping figure in his bed. A person wearing his hoodie. “I gave her a shirt,” his mother mumbled, but he barely heard anything over the thrumming in his ears.

“Her who?” he questioned, but it was unnecessary. His heart already knew, doing triple speed.