by Street, K.
It had taken time, a whole lot of tears, and—I was not ashamed to admit it—even bribery, but Knox finally acclimated to his new preschool. He no longer wrapped himself around my body with the intensity of a boa constrictor when I dropped him off or burst into tears from sheer relief when I returned to pick him up. I’d started getting a bit more sleep. Partly because of Jase, and Knox didn’t wake up, crying, nearly as often. We were making strides, albeit small ones. We were surviving.
Halloween came and went, and as difficult as it was, I managed to whip up a costume for Knox and take him trick-or-treating with my parents. He loved every minute of it, and all I kept thinking was how much Colin was missing.
He should be here.
Colin had enjoyed the fall season almost as much as I did. There was just something about it. The nip in the air as temperatures dropped, hot apple cider, hayrides, and trips to the pumpkin patch. All the radiant colors. It was magical and had special meaning for us.
We had met our first day on campus at the University of Tennessee, during freshman orientation. While we were students at UT, we must have visited every harvest festival within a hundred-mile radius of Knoxville. Our first official date was to a corn maze, and our first kiss was between the stalks of corn in the field. We won second place in a pumpkin-carving contest that day. The trophy, a small golden pumpkin, was buried in the bottom of a cardboard box inside the storage unit across town because I couldn’t bear to part with it. It served as a reminder of the day I had fallen in love with Colin.
For some people, falling in love happened in the span of a single heartbeat, but it wasn’t like that for us. We were friends first. We hung out together, spending hours at the library, poring over books, and nights studying over pizza. There were long drives, just the two of us and the open road.
Falling in love with him was like a feather floating on the breeze. Its descent slow and gradual and then all at once. The all at once had happened on our first date. Colin was up to his elbows in pumpkin guts, a smile on his face, his forearms covered in seeds and sticky orange goo. That was when I had known he was it.
A wave of sadness washed over me. Autumn and all the things I’d once loved seemed tainted. The colors weren’t as vibrant. All the things I used to look forward to became something I had to get through.
Tomorrow was Thanksgiving, the first without Colin, and I dreaded the huge family dinner at my parents’ house. The thought of skipping it appealed to me, but I’d never hear the end of it if I did. Jase would be there. I didn’t really know how I felt about that, and before I had time to figure it out, I heard my little boy.
“Mommy, you wake?” Knox’s voice came from the other side of my bedroom door.
I had been awake for hours but had no desire to get up. I still didn’t, but Knox needed me.
“I’m coming,” I called out to him as I put my feet on the floor.
I crossed the room and opened the door. “Good morning, little man.”
“Is it pie day?”
I started to tell him it was November, not March, but then I remembered I’d told him he could help me bake pies.
“Yes, it’s pie day, but first, you need to eat breakfast.”
“Okay.”
“Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Innocent brown eyes stared up at me. “Um … nope.”
“Are you sure?” I put my hands on my hips.
Knox stretched his arms open and hugged my waist.
I leaned forward and hugged him back. “I love you.”
“A bushel and a peck,” he responded.
Together, we walked into the kitchen.
Easton was on a business trip in Atlanta and wouldn’t be home until later.
I started a pot of coffee, and while my bagel toasted, I made eggs for Knox.
As we ate at the kitchen island, I listened to my son chatter about dragons and school and a little girl named Finley.
“Finley is a princess.”
“She is?”
“Yep. I going to marry her and live in a castle.”
I smiled at Knox over my cup of coffee. “A castle?”
“Uh-huh. A big one. You can come too.”
“I can?”
“Yes.” He pushed his plate toward me. “All done. Can we make pie now?”
“Sure.” I ruffled his hair.
* * *
The next morning, I was in the kitchen, putting the pies Knox and I had made yesterday into a cooler to transport to my mom’s when I heard Easton holler my name.
“I’m in the kitchen,” I called out.
We were due at our parents’ house in an hour, and the drive would take us nearly forty minutes.
“Do you need any help?” he asked when he walked in.
I noticed East eyeing the chocolate pie on the counter. “Don’t even think about it.”
“Who, me?” He feigned innocence.
“Yes, you.” I carefully slipped the covered pie inside with the others and grabbed three cans of whipped cream from the icebox, setting them on the counter. “Where’s Knox?”
“Here I am.” He trotted into the room.
“Hey, little man. It’s almost time to go to Gigi and Papa’s.” I washed my hands at the sink and reached for a hand towel to dry them before facing the boys.
“Whatcha doin’, Uncle East?”
Easton’s head was tipped back, an uncapped can of whipped cream poised above his open mouth. His index finger pressing down on the nozzle.
“Easton James Chadwick!”
Knox burst into a fit of giggles as a tower of white foam filled his uncle’s mouth.
I swatted East with the towel I still held in my grasp. “That is for the pies. You pain in the A-S-S.”
He tried not to choke as he swallowed and then aimed the can at me. “Drop the towel, kid. Or else.”
“Go ahead. When we get to Mom and Dad’s, I’m telling.”
He roared with laughter. “Did you just threaten to tattle on me? You’re twenty-eight, not twelve.”
I was laughing too hard to think of a comeback, and it felt amazing.
“Do Me, Uncle East! Do Me!” Knox jumped up and down, mouth open wide.
“Hold still.” Easton held the aerosol canister over Knox’s mouth and depressed the trigger.
Knox licked his lips. “Mmm. That is good.”
“Right?”
“All right, you two. We’re going to be late.” I snatched up the two remaining cans of whipped cream, put them in the cooler, and zipped it shut. Then, I looked at Easton. “Do you mind carrying this”—I patted the top of the cooler—“out to the car?”
“Sure.” He put the lid on the whipped cream and put it in the fridge.
While Easton took care of loading the food, I helped Knox wash up. Then, I grabbed a small backpack from Knox’s closet and put a change of clothes inside along with a few toys to keep him busy at our parents’. By the time we were loaded inside my SUV, we were running late.
Easton pulled into our parents’ circular drive where a few cars were already parked.
My stomach knotted as I reached for the door handle, but my brother’s voice stopped me.
“Saylor?”
I turned to look at him. “Yeah?”
Several emotions played over his face as he searched for his words. My big brother encompassed the big-brother relationship in every sense. He was loyal, fiercely protective, and always there for me. Growing up, he’d relentlessly teased me, and more often than not, he was a huge pain in my ass. Over the years, even with all the miles between us, we had stayed close. Until recently, we’d only seen each other a few times a year, and weeks would go by without a phone call, but he loved me, and I loved him. We were there when it counted. I knew that was what he was trying to do right now. He was trying to be here for me.
The air was heavy with unspoken words.
I playfully punched him in the arm. “We’ll get through this.”
Our first major hol
iday without our significant others by our sides.
All this time, my own pain was so prevalent; I sometimes forgot that Easton was hurting, too. If Molly and I ever crossed paths, it wasn’t going to be pretty.
“We will.” He nodded his agreement and opened the door.
I helped Knox out of his child restraint and grabbed the small backpack while Easton retrieved the cooler from the back.
“We’re here,” I announced as the three of us walked inside.
The scent of sage and thyme wafted through the air, making my stomach rumble. Children’s laughter hit my ears as a few of my cousins’ young offspring ran past.
East walked past me to drop the food in the kitchen.
“Mommy.” Knox clung to my leg.
My heart squeezed at the sight of him. He had no idea what to make of all these people.
Wanting to put him at ease, I lifted him into my arms. He would be four in a little more than two weeks, and carrying him wasn’t as easy as it once had been.
He straddled my hip. One arm was draped over the back of my neck, and his small palm was at the base of my throat. Knox’s fingers fiddled with my necklace.
“How about we go find Gigi and Papa? Are you hungry?”
He shrugged.
I dropped his backpack in the living room and made my way to the kitchen as Easton slipped out the door that led to the deck.
“Hi, everyone.” I looked at the faces gathered in the kitchen.
My mom, Aunt Trish, and my grandma as well as two of my cousins, Lucy and Blair, were in the kitchen.
A chorus of, “Hello,” bounced around the room.
My mom kissed my cheek before speaking to my little boy.
“Knox, come see Gigi.” She held out her arms, but he buried his face in my neck. “Aww. Is he sick?” Mom asked, patting his back.
“He’s fine. I think he just needs a minute.”
“He’s probably overwhelmed. I mean, seriously … you people are loud, and there’s so many of you,” Lucy, my younger cousin, teased.
Blair, Lucy’s sister, rubbed her swollen belly. “And another one is ready to pop out any day now.”
“Sis, this is kid number six. At this point, you won’t even have to push.” She playfully nudged her.
Blair stuck her tongue out at Lucy. “You’re such a brat.”
“And you’re only a few kids away from having your own reality TV show,” Lucy retorted.
Unable to hold it back, I giggle-snorted.
Blair was so not amused. The look on her face was priceless as she picked up a stalk of celery and smacked her sister with it.
“Girls,” Aunt Trish warned. “I swear, if I didn’t know better, I’d think you were ten instead of twenty and thirty.”
Lucy stood and went over to her mom, hugging her from behind and sneaking a chocolate chip cookie off the plate in front of her. “Just stating the facts, Mama,” she said and walked over to where I stood with Knox still in my arms.
My aunt and uncle had tried for years to get pregnant after Blair was born. After eight years of dealing with secondary infertility, they gave up. Thinking it would never happen, they’d played Russian roulette, and two years later, Lucy had come along. Even with the ten-year age gap, the girls were closer than you might think.
Aunt Trish looked at my mom. “Were we ever that bad?”
“Not a chance.” My mom guffawed.
My grandma clucked her tongue. “That’s right; you two were angels. Of course, your halos were made of rings of fire, and your wings were nonexistent.”
Everyone laughed.
Grandma stood at the stove with her back to the rest of us. Bony fingers wrinkled with age wrapped around the handle of a deep pot while her other hand grasped a worn ladle. Steam rose above from the contents as she stirred in a bit of bacon grease. Without looking, I knew she was making green beans.
My mouth watered, and I couldn’t wait until dinner.
Knox was getting heavier with every second that passed, and Lucy was doing her best to coax him out of his shell.
“Knox,” she whispered, offering him the cookie. “Shh. It’ll be our secret.”
He smiled and took it from her hand.
“What is that?” He pointed at her nose.
Lucy ran her fingertip over the small diamond stud in her left nostril. “It’s a nose ring. Pretty cool, huh?”
“Are you a princess?”
“Nope. Why? Do I look like a princess?”
He shrugged instead of answering her and bit into the cookie.
“How about we go steal the rest of the cookies and go outside?” she whisper-yelled.
“O-fay,” he whispered with his mouth full, sending crumbs flying.
Lucy held out her arms, and surprisingly, Knox went to her.
Thank you, I mouthed.
Lucy gave me a smile. Then, she made a big show of tiptoeing over to the counter. She put a finger to her lips and set Knox on his feet before she swiped the plate of cookies.
“Ready?” she asked.
He peeked back at me. I gave him an encouraging smile and a thumbs-up.
He turned back to Lucy. “Yes.”
“When I say go, you run out that door.” Lucy pointed to the door that led out to the deck.
“Okay,” Knox said through giggles.
“Hey, kids,” Lucy called out, in the direction of the living room. “Auntie Lucy has cookies.” She moved to the door and pulled it open.
Soles slapped against the hardwood, thundering like a tiny herd of elephants as the kids ran into the kitchen.
“Go!” Lucy told Knox.
He took off like a shot, and four of Blair’s children followed.
Lucy’s laughter rang through the air as they all bolted out the door.
When the door closed behind her, I felt four pairs of eyes on me.
The smile on my face instantly fell. The seconds stretched, and the air grew heavy.
Please don’t ask me if I’m okay.
My silent wish was useless. I knew what was coming.
Three. Two. One.
“Saylor, how are you doing? Really?” Aunt Trish asked. “It must be so hard—”
Nausea twisted my stomach.
“I’m fine,” I said a little too harshly, cutting her off. “How are you?” Without waiting for her to answer, I walked over to the sink to wash my hands.
The weight of their pity-filled stares settled on my back. Their thoughts were so loud that I practically heard them.
Such a shame. You poor thing.
I dried my hands, forced a smile, and turned to face my mom. “What can I do to help?”
Grandma spoke up, “The potatoes need mashing.”
I went over to where my grandma stood at the stove and put my arms around her. “Thanks, Grandma.”
I reached for the potato masher from the rotating caddy my mom kept on the counter for the kitchen utensils just as the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” Mom said.
Aunt Trish and Blair settled into a quiet conversation as I pulled open the door of the icebox to get the butter.
Thirteen
Jase
“Hey, Mrs. C,” I greeted when Easton’s mom opened the door.
She leaned in for a hug. “Jase, I’m so glad you made it.”
“Thanks for the invite.” I lifted the bottle of wine. “Here, this is for you.”
“That’s so generous, and you’re welcome anytime. You know that. Dinner should be ready in about thirty minutes.”
She moved out of the way, and I stepped inside.
“Need any help?”
“You’re so sweet to offer. I think we’ve got it covered. The guys are out back. I was just going to go get Brent to carve the turkey.”
I followed Caroline through the house and into the kitchen.
“Look who’s here,” Caroline announced before she set the wine on the counter.
The way she gestured with her hands reminded me o
f a game show my grandparents used to watch when I was a kid. You had to bid on an item, and if you got closest to the dollar amount without going over, you would go onstage to play some game to win an even bigger prize.
My body hummed to life as my eyes fell on Saylor’s back. She was standing at the stove beside her grandma. The smile on my face grew as she turned around.
“Jase.” Saylor looked a little bewildered. Like she didn’t know how to react.
I wasn’t sure why since she had known I would be here. Then again, we were standing in a room full of her family.
Caroline reintroduced me to her mom, sister, and niece. I met them a few times, but it had been years. After pleasantries were exchanged, cries echoed from the other room.
“I’m going to strangle Lucy,” Blair groaned.
“Come on,” Trish soothed. “I’ll help.”
As Trish and Blair left the room, Caroline said, “I’ll be right back. I’m going to go get Brent so he can carve the turkey.”
“Watch the green beans, baby,” Saylor’s grandma told her. “I gotta go see a man about a horse.”
Saylor and I both chuckled. With everyone else gone we were alone in the kitchen.
I crossed the space and leaned against the counter. “Happy Thanksgiving, Socks.”
“Happy Thanksgiving.” She gave me a halfhearted smile and then returned her focus to the potatoes she was mashing.
“You okay?”
“Yeah.” She didn’t look up when she answered.
A lock of her blonde hair fell across her cheek.
My hand moved of its own accord, fingertips grazing her cheek as I tucked the wayward strand behind her ear.
For the briefest second, she leaned into my touch. I would’ve thought I’d imagined it if it wasn’t for the rush of heat coursing through me.
She sucked in a breath, emotion flaring in her blue eyes.
Shock. Guilt. Anger. Sorrow.
All of them colliding together.
I dropped my hand. “Say—”
“You should go find East,” she cut me off.
Somehow, I had crossed an invisible line, and I had no idea how to fix it. “Talk to me, Socks.”
