Forgetting My Way Back To You

Advance Praise for

Forgetting My Way Back to You

There will be no forgetting the wit imbedded in the twists of this love story. ~Jennifer Wilson, English Language Arts Teacher, Western Reserve High School

Tune out the world and get swept away into Charlee’s life of confusion, memories, and disappointment. ~Dr. Cathy Pugh, President, Customized Consultants, LLC

Life can be better when it doesn't adhere to youthful plans. If it doesn't work out that way, you'd better pay attention to the secrets for turning it around when they come to you! ~ Carolyn Howard-Johnson, award-winning author and popular writers' conference presenter

"This is a modern-day romance centered on risking love again and the power of love denied. As in all romances, the course of true love never does run smooth and this story is an emotional rollercoaster for the reader, evoking tears of sorrow and delight at the tender romance. Forgetting My Way Back To You keeps one turning the pages, caught in the drama of the lovers’ relationship, past, present, and perhaps future." ~Emily Decobert, Myshelf.com Reviewer

The idea of the storyline is one that feels predictable before reading, but once engrossed in the book, the twists and turns of the flashbacks and story of Hunter and Charlee takes hold as their own detailed and tumultuous narrative unfolds. I love books where I feel many emotions towards the characters as I’m reading - empathy, anticipation, understanding, anger, love, and so many more. That’s what makes the story great. I have felt all that and more for these two and the direction of their story. Not only this, but the dialogue is realistic and makes it such an easy and enjoyable read. It’s the perfect book for a sunny day outside on the porch with nothing to do but read! ~Jenna Hogue, Adjunct Education Professor, Youngstown State University 

Forgetting My Way Back to You

Karina Bartow

Vinspire Publishing

www.vinspirepublishing.com

Copyright ©2018 Karina Bartow

Cover illustration copyright © 2018 Elaina Lee/For the Muse Designs

First Edition

Printed and bound in the United States of America. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information storage and retrieval system-except by a reviewer who may quote brief passages in a review to be printed in a magazine, newspaper, or on the Web-without permission in writing from the publisher. For information, please contact Vinspire Publishing, LLC, P.O. Box 1165, Ladson, SC 29456-1165.

With the exception of those identified in Author’s note, all characters in this work are purely fictional and have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

ISBN: 978-1-7321348-7-4

Published by Vinspire Publishing, LLC

Dedication

To Coach Stoll, John Farmer, Grandma Mabel & Aunt Glenda

Four characters who are impossible to forget

Chapter One

November 2, 2018

Walking through the doors of Coatesville Senior High School, Charlee looked at the empty hallway ahead of her, and the memories of her youth came rushing back into her mind. Regardless of how much time had passed since then, she grappled with the same battle of conflicting emotions each time she came. Every turn she made evoked a different sentiment, giving way to the feelings that went along with each one. Step by step, happiness, sadness, playfulness, bitterness, and a combination of several others welled up inside her.

Swept away by the nostalgia, she kept forgetting that she had a companion and looked over at Trenton to see if he’d noticed her silence. A pang of guilt stung her at the worried expression on his face, and she apologized for her uncharacteristic behavior. Before long, though, she fell back into the stillness, pondering what caused her heart to drop so low on that November night. Trenton had accompanied her to all the school’s football games that season, and he always added to the enjoyment of the experience. This time, however, having him there dampened on her mood, and she couldn’t understand why.

To try to come out of her trance, she began talking about the game. While she discussed the team’s history with him, she realized how the significance of the contest played into her feelings. The outcome didn’t concern her to a great degree, but her memories of the last time the Raiders were in the playoffs still haunted her. The joy back then didn’t last long, with the circumstances surrounding it marring the accomplishment. She didn’t have any regrets about it now and hardly thought of it, but reminders like this tended to bring back that burden.

Passing many of her old classrooms, Charlee pointed them out to Trenton along with her old lockers and favorite spots, since he’d never seen the inside of the building before. This, too, helped her understand her somberness. She was sharing the experience with a new love. Considering that she’d found her first at Coatesville High, she should’ve foreseen her inner conflict.

Acknowledging how early they’d arrived just to secure a parking place, Charlee cringed at the thought of going out to the field and waiting in the bitter cold. She suggested they retreat into the school’s unoccupied gymnasium, where the two sat down on the bleachers. Trenton continued to watch her with concern in his eyes, impressing her with his intuition. She hated making him uneasy and started to make small talk, but he refused to buy into her distraction techniques.

It’s just weird. She divulged a tidbit of what weighed on her, keeping it vague. I have a lot of memories here; that’s all.

Her attempt to ease his mind made him look on with ever more intrigue, so she assured him she’d tell him about it another time. It sufficed for him, and they moved on to other subjects, relieving Charlee. She didn’t doubt that she’d tell him everything someday, but she didn’t want to bring down the mood of the evening. The mistakes back then had been righted, and they’d led her to the future she now cherished. Nonetheless, the familiar sights and smells sucked her back, and she quietly relived those days.

August 19, 2013

On an ordinary Monday, Charlee began her week at Harrison Home the same way she had for the past two years. Before her first patient came in for physical therapy, she stashed her lunch and the clothes she brought for after work in her locker and went down to room twenty-five. Her coworkers considered it the worst part of her day, but Charlee argued otherwise. Aside from her dad, who’d been her primary reason for seeking employment at the assisted living center, she regarded Mabel as her favorite resident.

At age ninety, Mabel entered the retirement home three years before Charlee’s hiring. With Mabel’s room in the same hall as her dad’s, she took notice of Charlee when he was admitted following his stroke, and using her wit, she’d endeavored to cheer the young woman in her time of heartache. She suffered with memory loss, but somehow, she always remembered Charlee and made her feel welcome. Since Charlee’s grandparents all died before she was born, and Mabel didn’t have any children of her own, they forged a special bond quickly, endeared to each other from the start.

The older woman didn’t manifest her charming side to everyone, so the RNs entrusted Charlee with some of her care. Her lack of the proper credentials limited the duties the therapist could perform, but her boss cleared her to deliver her breakfast with her morning pills…and usually a few extras the nurses and aides didn’t allow her to eat. Unlike them, Charlee figured at age ninety, who cared if the lady enjoyed an extra piece of pie?

Time for your medicine, Mabel.

When are you ever going to come in here and tell me something I want to hear, like, ‘Time for your hot date, Mabel?’ she fired back, gulping down her pills.

I keep telling you Mr. Perkins has been giving you the eye, Charlee reminded her.

And I keep telling you he’s an old man! What good is he going to do me?

Charlee rolled with laughter on the inside. He’s two years younger than you.

Exactly, she didn’t even pause to think of a response. I don’t want anyone over seventy-five!

Her wit never ceased to amuse the younger woman. Charlee set the breakfast tray down on her table and took a seat. How’d you enjoy your weekend?

I spent it above ground, which, at my age, is considered a vacation in a penthouse, she explained. What about you? Any hot summer flings going on?

Afraid not. You? She humored her, with Mabel refusing to close the door on romance.

Not unless you count the three funerals I went to, she joked in her southern accent. We still have a month to go, so there’s hope for both of us. We might have to give it a little more effort.

Her wink didn’t surprise Charlee, who was accustomed to her meddlesome ways. Rising to her feet, she countered, Well, I wish you the best. As for me, my love life shows little promise of turning around.

And why is that? You’re beautiful and young. At your age, I—

I know the shenanigans you were doing, Mabel. Charlee interrupted her to avoid falling prey to another one of her tales from her adventurous youth. I don't have time for that much fun. Football practices start tonight, so I’ll be bandaging up skinned elbows and knees every night for the next ten weeks.

Why is that a problem? There are men right there, fresh for picking.

Yeah, because they’re teenagers.

They’re trainable, Mabel contested. If you’re uncomfortable about it, I can tag along and show you how we cougars hunt. I’ll pick out the one I want and send the others over to you.

No, thanks, you old floozy, Charlee’s protective father declined on her behalf, sitting in his wheelchair in the doorway. What have I told you about her?

Whatever you have clearly didn’t work, Mabel chimed.

To prevent a quarrel between the two, Charlee wished her a good day and wheeled him back to his room. There, she took her turn in offering counsel, Dad, you can't interfere with my work like that.

She isn’t a part of your job description. He resorted to the same defense time and again. She’s no more than somebody else’s occupational hazard that you’ve taken on your shoulders to be kind to.

"Aren’t you proud?’

Cornered by her clever rebuttal and smart grin, he changed the subject, You start training tonight, right?

Affirmative, Coach.

Don't forget my playbook. With Wilson gone, it’s a whole new staff of borderline rookies, so they need some veteran advice. I hear Carlisle is looking strong, and onside kicks are their poison. The five-man chokehold is our best hope.

His daughter picked up the binder, which seemed to weigh fifteen pounds, and assured him she’d pass on the advice. This, too, had become their routine since she took on the part-time role of physical trainer for his former team. The coaches expected the annual handoff, and while they’d grown fond of the gesture, Charlee never witnessed any of them consult the playbook. They obviously preferred the convenience of their tablets. Nonetheless, she accommodated her dad and let him believe they valued his input.

She missed his coaching days as much as he did, with it holding such a big part of her heart. Only a toddler when he started coaching the Red Raiders, she often went with him to practices and developed a passion for the sport. Friends swayed her older brother, Eli, to play basketball, which he excelled in and now coached, so their father treasured having his daughter take to the game he loved. He taught her more about it in her adolescent years than most boys learned before they made the varsity squad. By the time she made it to high school herself, she’d tired of it, but someone else reignited her fervor…for a short time, at least.

In the first couple of seasons following her dad’s stroke, she lost touch with the team. It pained her to watch someone else with his clipboard and whistle, while he couldn’t walk. After her certification, she ran into her his replacement, Jay Wilson, who needed a new trainer, and he asked if she would consider it. She debated the opportunity before her childhood memories motivated her to accept the job, as she welcomed the chance to recapture those cherished moments. It pleased her dad, too, making him feel like his legacy could continue.

That said, approaching the field brought her a little heartache. Though it’d been four years since Dad stood out there with his megaphone, Charlee still found herself scanning the group for him, a hard habit to break after two decades of seeing him in the middle of the pack. Right when she corrected herself yet again, she did a double-take upon spotting a familiar face from her past, one she hadn’t seen in what seemed like a lifetime.

On her first day of sophomore year, Charlee had to choose between going home on the bus or waiting for her dad to finish with practice. She’d grown weary of sitting on a bleacher for three hours, but since the bus made her sick, she deemed it the better of the two evils. Trying to make the most out of it, she brought her homework to keep her busy and packed along a jelly sandwich to satisfy her afternoon hunger.

She’d completed two problems in her algebra homework when she glanced up and spotted Hunter Jett. The senior, who’d been named one of the state’s top athletes, elated the town when his family moved to Coatesville the year before, but Charlee and he hadn’t met. Her mom’s schedule at the time allowed her to take her daughter home, so she didn’t spend much time at the gridiron. Her dad talked plenty about him, initially voicing his reservations about the all-star quarterback until admitting how unfounded they proved to be. His impressive stats continued to improve game after game, and so did his popularity.

His talent exceeded the football field, too, demonstrated by his playing the lead role in the spring musical, West Side Story. Like almost every other girl who’d seen his performance, Charlee fell for his charming portrayal and became quite smitten with him, but she refused to let it show. She figured an adored guy like him must have quite the ego.

Watching Hunter and his buddies goof off as they tossed the football to one another before practice, what she saw disappointed her a bit. Apparently to keep cool during the grinding late-summer practices, he’d shaved off most of his thick, dark hair but had grown a short beard. The whole look aged his appearance, but his behavior made up for it. He showed none of the qualities of his love-struck on-stage persona, cracking the juvenile jokes common among teenage boys. It later seemed foolish of her to expect him to act like the character he’d played in the choir’s production, but at fifteen, her innocence had deceived her.

After a few moments of observing him, Charlee wrote him off as an egotist and nothing too special, so she concentrated on her homework. Interrupting her, the football Hunter and his friends were playing with landed in the row behind her, prompting him to start towards her. Intimidated by him to a small extent, she retrieved the ball and threw it back, assuming he’d catch it and return to his friends. Whether she’d prepared herself for it or not, though, the scruffy-faced number three continued in her direction.

Yikes. Algebra homework on the first day. You must have Ms. Dechant.

Nice job, Sherlock. Despite her unamused façade, she couldn’t help but notice how his rugged features took on more appeal the closer he came. It won’t get better, huh?

No, not unless she’s changed over the summer. I did my best to tone her down last year, but that made her worse.