Last Turn Home

Chapter 5 - And I Fell

CHAPTER 5

JOHN

She definitely wasn't a kid anymore and the realization, or at least the feelings it stirred within me, were a little unsettling. I couldn't explain it; seeing her standing there in that barn today... all grown up...

I felt guilty for thinking she looked really beautiful, like her father, my former boss, might just come back and kick my ass from beyond the grave.

I couldn't let myself think like that; she was so incredibly off limits, and I was the furthest thing from what she wanted in a man... what any woman would want in a man...

I ran my fingers through my hair and swore under my breath when finally she climbed down the ladder and headed back towards the main house. I closed and locked the hatch to the barn and grabbed the sheets from the laundry basket.

I was highly doubtful I'd be getting much sleep but it was worth a shot.

After tossing, turning and wincing in pain for the better part of the next five hours, I finally gave up and made my way to a pair of old wooden shutters, pulling them open and staring out at the Atwood property. The sun was still a few ways away from rising and the air was a little chilly, but I liked it best that way.

The lights were off in the main house; Carly was probably asleep and I envied her for that. I don't think I'd slept properly in nine years.

I walked to the other end of the room and started looking around; I opened the drawer to the night stand, unsure what I was expecting to find. It was empty, and I guessed it would remain that way for a while given I barely owned anything. I opened the creaky doors to the closet and decided to make myself busy by unpacking my clothes. Once again, I barely owned anything, so that took about five minutes.

I was about to shut the closet door when I spotted the old guitar case out of the corner of my eye, battered and faded with age and use.

"Damn," I muttered, reaching up and tugging it off the top shelf just over my head. I hadn't seen that thing in so long; actually, I forgot all about it when I left it behind to gather dust nine years ago.

I unlocked the case and popped the top open. The guitar was as old as the case but it had fared much better, the wood still gleaming. I picked it up and ran my fingers over the rusted strings.

At the bottom of the case sat a few guitar picks, an old pocket knife, two dimes, a quarter and an old notebook filled with my untidy scrawl; song lyrics mostly, things that would probably make me laugh or cringe if I were to read them again.

I grabbed a black guitar pick and went back to the window, climbing out onto the thick ledge and letting my fingers take control.

I winced at the sound.

The guitar needed a new set of strings.

CARLY

The sun was still rising when my alarm clock went off, about ten minutes before I really had to get up to start my day. I turned onto my left side and pressed snooze, enjoying the peace and quiet for a moment.

Then the moment was gone and I put my brain into drive, slipping out of bed and making my way downstairs to start a pot of coffee. I returned upstairs while the coffee was brewing and crossed to the other end of the hall into the bathroom.