Page 2 of See It Through
She lifted her elegant chin. “It’s your turn.”
“Ah…” I twisted my neck to see the cashier had scanned and bagged my groceries and was now tapping her fingers, waiting for me to pay. “Thanks. I’ll see you around.”
“You’re welcome.”
Her cool politeness frosted over me as I paid my bill and followed me outside into the setting sun. Only as I got into my truck did it thaw.
I didn’t linger in the parking lot. Putting my truck into gear, I went on my way. The house was on the outskirts of town, and I was running out of daylight. It’s what I got for dragging my feet on the route to Sugar Brush, but there was almost nothing here I was looking forward to.
They said you could never go home again, but as I pulled onto the long drive leading to the house I grew up in, the same old dread pitted my stomach, just like it did back then. I could’ve been seventeen again for how little the feeling had changed.
Except it was all different now. Just an old, empty house. Nothing but echoes of my past waiting inside. Nothing to fear. Nothing to dread.
It was just a house.
Walls, floors, fixtures.
Nothing and no one else.
Just me and my memories.
I took a deep breath and climbed out, my boots hitting the dusty gravel.
This was it. It had to be done.
No way out but through.
Chapter Two
Hannah
I dragged my fingeralong the pastry case, practically drooling over the choices behind the glass. Muffins, donuts, cookies, lemon bars…ugh, how was I supposed to choose? I wanted one of everything, but it would be difficult to do my job in a sugar coma.
“Hurry up. You’re holding up the line.”
I straightened, pinning a narrow-eyed glare at the owner of Sugar Rush Bakery. “This is your fault.”
My little sister put her hands on her curvy hips, her chestnut ponytail bobbing with the attitude she reserved for me. “And how is that?”
I gestured toward the case, overloaded with all kinds of temptation. My sister was the devil when it came to baked goods. “Are you kidding, Phoebe? White chocolate and raspberry donuts? Banana coconut muffins? Apple streusel? Making me choose is torture.”
With a huff and eye roll, she slid the case open, plucked up a blueberry muffin, put it in a bag emblazoned with her adorable, sassy pink logo, and held it out to me.
“There. We both know this is what you were going to choose. It’s what you always choose.”
I took the muffin from her, indignant. “I might have changed my mind.”
“We both also know that isn’t true.”
We did. I was a creature of habit. I’d eat the same breakfast every day until I couldn’t stand to look at it then move on to a new food obsession. I was going strong with Phoebe’s blueberry muffins, though.
She pointed to the opposite side of the counter. “Your coffee will be over there when it’s ready.”
I blew my sister a kiss. “Thanks, Phe.”
She blew a kiss back at me. “Welcome, Banana. Now, get out of here, you.”
Phoebe went back to her line of customers while I hitched my hip on the vintage linoleum counter, watching. Phe was good with people. She had a natural way about her, floating softly around them, cushioning anyone who needed it. She’d been sweet since the day she was born. I’d been all of three years old, but I still remembered her warm weight as our dad put her in my arms for the first time.