Page 101 of Good Directions

Off in the background, I hear the sound of my front door opening and slamming shut, or at least I think I do, but dismiss it as quickly as I do the accusations of my best friend. That is, until I’m struck upside the head, sending me lurching forward.

“Oww!”

“Care to explain why the sweet brunette who’s been living in my house all summer tore in, packed up, and left?”

Auggie’s voice is so sharp it could slice through Teflon, his face even harder. I’ve seen him plenty mad over the years—what son hasn’t seen their father pissed off—and I have to say, this look is right up there. Better pissed than disappointed though.

“Not particularly,” I quip.

“Anton Wright Hayes, I am not in the mood for your sarcasm,” he tosses back, just as sassy. For all the times that someone says that Willa got her sass from our mama, I wonder if they know that Auggie has a side to him as well. “And you should be thankful that I am not your mama. Because she is spittin’ nails.”

Now that I believe.

Because I have absolutely no doubt that she fell for Sawyer. Hard. Maybe more than I did. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if she likes Sawyer more than she likes me. Certainly in this moment, I know who she’s picking.

“So, explain yourself.”

I lean back, trying to find the right way to put all of this so Auggie will understand. So that he will know that I made the right choice.

“Anton lost his shit over some trees,” Cary says, throwing me right under the bus.

“Trees,” Auggie repeats, his thick Georgia drawl in full effect. “Really. You actually expect me to believe this is about trees.”

“Yup.”

I take that back. Cary didn’t just throw me under the bus; he backed it right up and over me as well.

“Trees.”

“Trees,” Cary repeats again, slowly nodding.

Christ, they keep repeating that word and I might just lose my damn mind.

Auggie looks at me expectantly, as if now I’m allowed to comment. Insert some sort of additional information that might shine light on the situation.

“Yes,” I confirm. “This is about trees.”

“Okay, fine,” Auggie sighs, starting to pace along the porch. “Let’s say it really is about trees. Let’s say that whatever went down with these trees didn’t happen and all was good. Tell me that you wouldn’t have found something else.”

My head whips in his direction. What did he say?

“Excuse you?”

“Tell me that. Go ahead. Tell me you wouldn’t have found another reason.”

“What do you mean?”

I don’t follow. What is he getting at?

“That in a couple of days, maybe after the wedding, there wouldn’t have been something, anything, that you would have conjured up.”

“I don’t follow…”

I shake my head. I really have no idea what he’s getting at.

Auggie stops his pacing, his features softening as he looks at me. The dad part of him starting to shine through.

“Because this isn’t really about trees, is it?”