by Mimi Flood
“Drink?” I offered, moving to the bar. Hesitating at first, I chose the bottle of Blue Label —this would require the good stuff.
“To Grandma.” We clinked our glasses. I sat down in a nearby chair, sipping my drink, nervously.
“What’s going on, Elle?” He sat down across from me, leaning back. “Did Paul do something?”
I shook my head. “No, nothing like that.”
Taking another sip, he watched me over the rim of his glass. His green eyes were piercing, impatient. I could sense he was waiting for me to say something but seemed patient enough to let me gather my thoughts.
“Might as well get it over with, then.” I inhaled deep and swallowed hard. “I made a decision.”
He sat up, his attention caught.
“A decision? That’s great.”
He seemed so relieved it almost made what I was about to say that much more painful. I could see the anticipation in his eyes, the expectation he was unaware I was about to crush.
“Don’t get too excited, it’s probably not what you’re thinking.” His smile vanished, replaced with confusion. “Before I tell you what I’ve decided I want you to know that this past couple of days with you have been...”
“Sublime,” he said as if reading my thoughts.
“Yes, sublime.” I could feel myself blushing, the room feeling suddenly very warm. “And I want to thank you for showing me such a great time and for being there for me. It’s helped me, a lot.” He shook his head and looked away, embarrassed. “I’ve thought long and hard about this and there is no possible way for me to take over the business, at least not alone.”
His head bolted up, his eyes meeting mine.
“What do you mean?”
“It will still technically be mine, on paper, but I won’t be the one running it.”
He tilted his head as if he already knew what I was about to say.
“You want me to run it.”
“Yes. You’ll take over where Dolores left off. You’ve been the closest to her and already know how everything works. If I got involved now, I’d just mess it up, I’m sure.”
I smiled at him, hoping against hope he would see it my way and know it was the smartest way to go about all this. But in the short amount of time we’d spent together, I had a feeling that would be easier said than done.
“I see,” was all he said.
Clearly, I had expected a little more from him than what he was giving me, so I continued talking, my words sounding forced as if I was trying desperately to make him agree with me.
“It really makes the most sense. You’ll keep doing what you’re doing, but with a higher paycheck.” I giggled, but he still wasn’t reacting. He was starring off somewhere, his thoughts far away from our present conversation. “Devon? Aren’t you going to say anything?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know, anything. A thank you would work, too.”
His eyes shot to meet mine and I could tell something was brewing beneath his calm exterior. I saw a flash of anger and expected him to burst out yelling any second.
Instead, he smiled at me, his grin not reaching his eyes. “Thank you.”
There was no honesty behind his words. Silence fell as I struggled to figure out what to say next. I couldn’t understand why he was suddenly being so reserved, so distant.
“The more I’ve thought about it, the more I realized that the entire reason I am even here is that Dolores wanted it this way. And no matter which scenario I put myself in, inevitably I feel wrong about giving the business to someone else, even my father. Since you’re the only person who seems to be as emotionally invested in the orchards as she was, I think she’d more than agree this is the right thing to do.”
He nodded slowly, his eyes not leaving mine, but still, he said nothing.
I snapped, feeling annoyed and hurt. “I don’t get it. Why aren’t you happy about this?”
“I am happy, Ellie,” he said, walking to the bar. helping himself to another drink. “After all, this was your decision. If you’re happy with it, then so am I.” He took a big gulp of his drink, nearly downing the entire thing. He then took a long breath and as if he was convincing himself to, he spoke again. “I’m just wondering why you are so afraid?”
“Afraid? Of what? I’m not afraid.”
“Where do I start? Afraid of what could happen between you and me. What has happened.”
“I’m not afraid of that. And I’ve given it a lot of thought, Devon. I know we can’t be together and work with each other, it—”
“It won’t work. Yeah, you’ve established that. I’m not just talking about us. You’re afraid of being a success here and afraid of dealing with your past. You’ve told yourself that you can’t make this work so much that you won’t even try. Once again, you’re running away because you’re afraid. And if you want to keep doing that, then do it. I won’t stop you. But maybe you should see it for what it is and take a damn chance.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. I’d make a mess of it. You don’t know me, but I would.”
“I think I know you well enough by now and I can clearly see you’ve got issues.”
“Thanks, Devon. This is just what I needed to hear right now.”
“Maybe you don’t want to hear it, but you should. You need to let it go, Elle. Your parents, whatever happened, it’s over. Your grandmother thought you could handle this and if you think so highly of her then maybe you should give her more credit. You are incredibly strong but you have no idea.”
I rolled my eyes, fighting back tears.
He didn’t know me.
He continued, “You’ve been given a chance that most would dream of and you’re just going to pass it along like it’s not worth it.”
“It’s not that simple. But it doesn’t matter what you think right now. It’s my decision and all you need to tell me is if you’ll go along with it or not.”
“Ellie, it is that simple. Can’t you see it? You’re letting your insecurities mess up whatever chance you have here.”
“I’m not insecure!” He looked at me with what I could only describe as a mix of annoyance and pity. It struck me hard. “I’m not, Devon. And if you think that, then you really don’t know me at all.”
“Fine, I guess I’m wrong.”
“You are.” I took a breath, steadying my shaky nerves. “You’re completely wrong,” I added as if I needed to drive the point home a little more. I was starting to feel my exterior crumble. “When I get home I’ll figure out what needs to be done exactly. This is all new to me, so I’d appreciate it if you gave me some time to settle all the details and whatnot.”
“Sure,” he replied, resigned. “Take all the time you need.”
I was fuming but tried to keep my composure steady. I had been so worried that this conversation would be awkward; instead, it had turned into something incredibly emotional and draining. I was hurt that he thought so little of me and I was disappointed that everything had taken a turn for the worse. I could feel my emotions bubble and I knew I needed to end this now. If he didn’t leave soon, I would find it impossible to keep everything together.
“That’s all I wanted to say.”
His lips parted as if he was about to speak but then he closed them again. He slammed his glass on the bar top, making me cringe, and walked over to me. My heart was beating so loudly, I was sure he would be able to hear it. I closed my eyes, desperately grasping on to whatever self-control I had left, which wasn’t much. I felt I would soon be unable to hold back my tears.
He leaned down, placing his hands on the chair, his arms on either side of me, boxing me in. His face was now so close to mine, I could smell the alcohol on his breath. He stared at me for a moment, his eyes searching mine. Then, he moved in close and kissed me softly on the cheek, grazing the corner of my mouth. I felt my walls crumble but kept my eyes shut so he wouldn’t see my world caving in.
“Take
care, Elizabeth,” he said, mere inches from my face.
His steps walking away echoed through the large, empty house. The sound of the door slamming shut made me wince. Though it took me a few minutes before I could trust myself to reopen my eyes, once I did, the tears fell as if they were making up for lost time.
It was all for the best, that much I knew, but no matter how many times I repeated it to myself, the pain inside never ceased.
Curling up in the chair, unable to move, I tucked my head into my lap and let myself cry.
Later, I heard my parents come home.
I had no idea how long I’d been sitting in the dark, empty living room, but I figured it had been a long while.
“She’s in here,” my father said, walking in, turning the lights on. My eyes had become used to the dark and the brightness made me squint. “We were wondering where you’d disappeared to. How long have you been here?”
“Why were you sitting in the dark?” my mother asked, her voice filled with concern.
She sat down beside me and rubbed my back.
“I’ve been thinking,” I said, my voice feeble.
My parents took in my appearance, my face covered in tears.
“What the hell happened?” my father yelled, clearly jumping to conclusions. “Did someone hurt you?”
“No, Dad. Don’t worry about it,” I reassured him. “I’m going to bed.”
My mother placed a hand on my shoulder and left it there for a moment. She smiled at me, sympathetic. With all the will I could muster, I returned the smile, even though no part of me felt in the vicinity of happiness.
Reaching my bed, the weight of the day’s pressure finally caught up with me. I fell onto it, exhausted. My last waking moments were spent wondering why everything that had made so much sense earlier in the day, now felt wholly and fundamentally wrong?
Monday, April 24th
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
My brain had been taken over by a jackhammer that was working overtime, that’s what I told myself when I opened my eyes. By far worse than any hangover I had ever suffered, my eyes were red and painful, and my face was puffy from crying so much.
Grudgingly, I went downstairs to meet my parents in the kitchen. They were speaking in hushed tones, either to avoid waking me or because they didn’t want me overhearing. The moment I entered the room they immediately went quiet. They looked at me with pity, making me feel guilty. I had been right the previous day—I should have gone back to the city and avoided all of this.
“Good morning,” my mother said, handing me a cup of coffee. “Did you get any sleep?”
I winced in response, taking a slow sip. The warmth felt good going down but my head kept pounding away.
“A few hours, maybe,” I lied, not wanting her to feel worse for me. I didn’t know why she was being so nice to me, but I assumed that the argument we’d had the other night was now water under the bridge.
“Honey,” my father began. “If you’re feeling up to it...”
I watched him hesitate and my mother cleared her throat.
“Say it,” I snapped.
“We were just wondering what your plan is for the house? But we can talk about it another time if you’d rather.”
Ironically, the decision regarding my grandmother’s house had been the easiest part of this entire weekend.
I took a deep breath.
“I get why Grandma was angry with Mom, but the way I see it, if you’ve both moved on, then there is no valid reason to keep it from you. The house is rightfully yours. She should have seen that. I’ll transfer the ownership as soon as I can.”
My mother looked away, but I could see tears in her eyes. She reached for my hand and squeezed it tight.
“Thank you, Elizabeth,” she said, smiling.
I wasn’t sure if it was because she was crying, or because she hadn’t smiled at me in what seemed like forever, but I felt my own surge of heartache rising up.
“You’re welcome,” I replied, clearing my throat. “But you’ll let me know if you need any help clearing out Grandma’s stuff?”
I wasn’t entirely sure I’d be of any real help, but I felt I should offer. Plus, the idea of coming back home any time in the near future wasn’t exactly high on my list of priorities.
“Absolutely.” My mother smiled again, filled with what looked like surprise and doubt.
“Good.”
I peered out the windows at the pristine lake. To think only a week ago none of this was even a speck in my imagination. Now, here I was land and business owner, both of which I wasn’t remotely interested in being. And to top it off, I was also broken-hearted and growing unhappier every minute more I spent in Frelighsburg.
I looked at the time and thought now was the perfect opportunity to leave. The previous night had turned into such a disaster, and since I had stayed the night, I felt in even more of a rush to get home.
“I should get going.”
“Sweetie, you are more than welcomed to stay a couple more days,” my mother suggested. “It might do you good.”
“I sincerely doubt that, Mom.” Though the idea of driving home with everything so fresh in my mind was less than appealing, I knew it was a safer option than sticking around town, next door to Devon, for much longer. “Thanks, but I need to get home. I’ve got work and my neighbour was expecting me last night.”
“Right,” my mom said, probably finding my excuse as lame as I did.
Once I had packed my things, my dad carried my bag to the car while I stayed back with my mom.
“Ellie, I know there are a lot of things you and I need to talk about,” she said. “I understand you may not want to, but I would really like the chance to sit down with you one day and talk things out.”
Her offer was so surprising. She was barely recognizable to me any longer. In the span of a few days, she had become kinder, more soft-spoken. I didn’t know for sure, but I thought that maybe my grandmother’s passing had shaken something deep down inside of her.
“That would be nice,” I said, hugging her. “I’ll call you, Mom.”
My father hugged me and kissed me goodbye.
“Drive safe,” was all he said to me as I got in the car.
I drove by Devon’s house and couldn’t stop myself from looking toward it. There was so much I wanted to say to him but knew it was probably better left unsaid. For some strange reason, I couldn’t help but glance in the rear-view mirror in hopes of possibly seeing him. It was silly, I knew, but again, the eternal romantic in me just couldn’t let go.
Walking up the two flights of stairs to my apartment, I found Mrs. Benson waiting for me.
“Max got into the garbage a few times, but I cleaned it all up really well,” she said, handing me my keys.
I unlocked the door and peeked into my apartment. The apartment was spotless, even cleaner than I had left it. I was sure Mrs. Benson had cleaned up more than she was letting on.
“Thank you,” I replied, handing her some money, which she refused.
“By the way, a nice-looking young man came by the other day. Asking where you were. I believe he said his name was Paul,” Mrs. Benson said, sweetly.
I nodded, disappointed and bit my tongue.
“Yes, he found me. Thank you.”
“I’m sure it’s none of my business, my dear, but I don’t like the looks of that man,” she added, grimacing. “I think you could do better.”
I found it impossible not to laugh and I thanked her once more. Her words reminded me of how my mother had said the same thing at the funeral. I didn’t know what they saw in me that made them think that way.
Settling back into my apartment, I threw my bag into my bedroom. I looked in my fridge, not remotely hungry, but needing something to fill the lonely void. My choices were some mouldy cheese or ancient leftovers. Deciding I would need to go to the store at some point, I shut the refrigerator door and turned the TV on.
I glanced at my laptop. The nagging voice
in my head had returned with a vengeance, and despite knowing that I should give myself more time, I turned it on. My fingers hovered over the keys, the words still forming in my brain.
What on earth could I say?
Taking a deep breath, I began to type:
Devon,
I wanted to say that I am sorry for how things ended. Please know I never meant to hurt you or to cause any trouble. I hope in time you’ll understand and come to see things from my side. In the meantime, no matter how you feel about this, we will still need to work together. That being said, should any problems come up, please do not hesitate to contact me. Here’s hoping we can be grown-ups about this.
Yours, Elle
I hesitated before sending the email, reading it over and over again. My mind felt heavy from all the thoughts weighing on it but they weren’t things I could very well share over email. I had to accept the way things were.
Eventually, I pressed Send and turned the laptop off.
Max emerged from his hiding spot and curled up beside me, purring and rubbing his head against my arm. I welcomed the warmth and familiarity of him while I scratched his head. As if struck by the extent of everything that had happened over the weekend, my body became heavy and I was overcome with such incredible fatigue, I could barely keep my eyes open. I reached for the blanket hanging over the side of the sofa—one knitted by my grandmother—and tucked myself in, resting my head on a cushion. The television was blasting images at me, but I wasn’t watching them. The sounds masked the beating of my heart. My eyes became blurry and I realized it was from tears. Though Max kept purring as he nuzzled up beside me, I felt cold and alone.
“Well, Max,” I said, my voice sounding harsh and gruff. “I really fucked it up this time, didn’t I?”
Friday, May 26th
CHAPTER THIRTY
Over a month had gone by since that eventful weekend and I slowly settled back into my old routine. Work had picked up and I had received a few more contracts to work on—nothing fancy but it was enough to keep my mind occupied. It was just what I needed to feel like things were back to how they should be.