Author Note: Song Prompt for this chapter - American Pie performed by Don McLean

Rick

Rick groaned against the intruding ringing sound of his phone, ripping him from a drunken sleep. His arm flopped over to grab it from the coffee table next to the couch he had called a bed for the night.

"Yeah?" he slurred.

"Rick? This is Matt...from the bar?"

Rick sat up, rubbing his eyes. "Matt! Hey, how are you, buddy?"

"Good, good. You said I should give you a heads up if any properties are up for sale."

Rick frowned. He had forgotten about it, but suddenly his heart lifted.
"Yeah, yeah."

"Well, you remember that ol' plantation house just outside of town? Well, the owner is finally letting it go, and the price, I think, fits right into your budget."

"Really? I remember it was quite run-down. A real fix'em upper."

"The perfect thing to keep a guy busy."

Rick chuckled. "You mean, keep him out of the drink, right?"

"Rick..."

"I know, I know. Tell Sally, I will come down this weekend and make an offer."

"Will do, see ya, Rick."

Rick dropped the phone back onto the coffee table. His eyes glanced over the dreary apartment he had been renting for the last two months. All his belongings were in unopened boxes, and he was still living out of his suitcase, a habit from staying in motel rooms over the past five years.

The last month had finally seen some stability, and performing at Derek's bar had brought back a bit of youth he had given up so long ago.

Until last night.

Sarah's appearance had been a shock to his system. Would he ever get that damn woman out of his mind?

*

One month later.

Sarah

"Can I get you anything else, love?"

Sarah shook her head at the bubbly diner waitress, then left with a nod and a smile. She sighed as she looked down at the massive piece of pie in front of her. Pumpkin pie, the only American Pie worth its weight when depressed. She chuckled as she took a bite.

She couldn't believe she was back in the one town she had sworn she would not return to. If it hadn't been for the insistence of the new owner of her grandfather's house, she would have been in Italy by now. What could be so important that she had to come and collect whatever he had found for herself?

The guy had refused to send it via courier. Their email conversations had been cordial for the first five minutes, then turned into a battle of wills. Fuck, who is this guy? Mr. Williams - she didn't even know his name.

She swallowed another mouthful of pie. She needed a drink. She checked her cell phone for the time. Matt might be open. She grimaced. Did she really want to go to the one place she wished Rick was? This whole damn town still smelled like him.

Well, she couldn't put this off forever. It's better to get this over with so she can finally move on with her life.

*

The last time she had been at the plantation was just after Christmas. The beauty of the valley had been covered by snow, and it could not be appreciated. In her lifetime, she had only been on the plantation four times: twice as a child, once to check the property, and the last to finalize the sale.

She had no emotional connection to it, apart from the fact that it belonged to her grandfather. He had given up this life for her. She couldn't even bring herself to go into the house the last time she had been there. Guilt had prevented her from appreciating what her grandfather had given her.

She didn't deserve his gift.

*

She parked the car on the edge of the driveway and got out. She needed the five-minute walk up to the house. Sarah glanced over the house, and already she noticed the minor fixes that had been made. The shutters were not crooked, and the flaky paint was scraped off. The porch steps had been replaced, and the cracked windows.

This would be the perfect house for a family once it had been renovated.

The front door opened, and she froze as she recognized the one man she would never have thought to see.

*