Winter Signs (Season Named Series Book 2)

by Sarah Gai

  She finished writing and handed him the note. She watched her brother read it, his eyes watering, and her heart hurt for him. He worked so hard. How he managed to finish school while looking after their mama and her and working every chance he got, baffled her. She knew she was the luckiest girl in the world to have a brother like him.

  Charlie folded up the note and tucked it away in his pant pocket. He signed the sweetest gesture that went straight to her heart, “I love you, sister.”

  Yes, she was very lucky.

  Winter

  The sun began to set and everyone was finally worn out from all the water games. They all talked and sat or laid around on their towels on the rocks, shaded partially by the large trees that stood tall beside them. The cliff was high above the water's surface. Sitting there felt as if you could reach out and touch the sun as it made its way down on the horizon.

  Winter gave her chair to Nolan and found a permanent spot on Connor’s towel lying beside him. James brought his radio and she watched as everyone tapped a hand or bobbed their heads lightly to the music. Connor rolled over to face Winter. He had that look again, as if he was peering into her soul and searching for something. He would find nothing new. Connor knew everything there was to know about her. She reached out and traced a finger along the crease between his brows, trying to smooth the worry from it.

  “You know I love you, right?"

  That was a strange question. Of course she knew; he told her daily, if not more. There was something troubling him. She sensed he needed her to really remember this.

  "Yes, Connor. I love you, too," she frowned. "What's wrong? You seem…worried,” she signed back.

  Connor rolled onto his back and Winter sat up to peer down at him. "I don't know. Maybe I’m insecure. I...just need you to know how much you mean to me. I'm being stupid," he sadly smiled up at her.

  In all the years Winter had known Connor, insecure was not a part of his nature. He was out-going, funny, sweet, protective, at times a bit cocky, but most of all, loving. Insecure was most definitely not a character trait he possessed.

  "Is it because of what I wrote to Nolan near the creek?" Winter asked nervously. Maybe she overstepped the mark. She did feel a little guilty about wanting Nolan to keep her nickname Snowflake, yet she had never wanted Connor to call her that. Truth was Connor was around when her father was alive and Nolan was not, so when he called her Snowflake it made her smile. With Charlie and Connor it brought back memories of times with her father, times when he had been too sick to get up.

  "No, not at all. Well, maybe I'm a little jealous, but it was nice you finally included him in our group."

  "Not true, I always did. He just didn't speak to me," she retorted.

  "He likes you, you know."

  "I'm likeable," she shrugged.

  Connor shook his head and started laughing. Winter didn't understand what was so funny, but she watched his shoulders shake and his chest moving as he tried to stop laughing. She lightly punched him in the arm, warning him to quit it.

  Connor held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, I'll stop. Look, I'm gonna see if the boys want to have one last swim before we head home. Okay?" Winter nodded. Connor knew her well enough to know that one swim was fine enough for Winter.

  Charlie had already left to take Nicole home, so they all decided to camp another time. Winter watched Connor stand and announce to everyone else his plans. She saw James hop up, quickly followed by Henry. She peered across at Nolan who shook his head, obviously not interested in going back in, along with Serena and Marty who were happy to sit there and soak up the last rays of sun.

  Connor looked at her and stopped moving. "Love you," he mouthed and signed.

  Winter grinned wide. "Love you more," she signed and gushed. It never got old seeing him show her such devotion.

  She watched the men walk to the edge of the cliff. James didn't even think about it before he jumped off. Winter sat up straight as she saw Henry dive off next in quick succession. "Don’t you dare," she warned Connor. He promised he wouldn't do it this trip. It made her sick to think about it. The cliff was high above the water, but boys will be boys. Of course, Connor was going to make her worry as he laughed at her threat and blew her a final kiss before turning and diving head first off the rocks into the water and out of her sight. Winter knew he would do it with that cocky smile on his face.

  She leaned back on her elbows and looked over to where Nolan sat only ten feet away. Her mind screamed red alert as she saw the look of confusion cross his face and his head quickly turned towards the cliff. Within two seconds he was on his feet and running to the edge.

  Winter sat up, her back stiffened, looking towards Serena and Marty as they both jumped up from their chairs. Marty went diving for her bag as Nolan yelled something at her as he took off down the bank, heading for the water towards the boys.

  Winter stood up and ran to the edge to stand next to a screaming Serena, on her knees clutching at her chest. She peered over the edge and...no...no, no, no, no, no, no. They say most people either have a fight or flight mode when thrown in front of tragedy or a traumatizing situation. You either fight for survival, whether it be your own or someone else's, or you run for self-preservation, getting as far away from a scene as quickly as possible. Winter fell into the third category when faced with the unimaginable—freeze mode.

  It was as if she wasn't really there as she watched James drag a body towards the edge of the water. For that one moment in time, Winter left her frozen shocked self standing there unmoving on the cliffside and floated right out her body. She watched everything as if from an aerial advantage. She could see Nolan there, arms out at the edge of the water, waiting, worrying. Henry climbing out and turning to position himself, ready to help lift the weight of the unconscious body from James's arms up onto the edge and out of danger. But where was Connor? Why wasn't he helping?

  Denial is so real, so tangible. You grab a hold of it and refuse to see anything else. It keeps you safe and shuts down when your mind isn't ready to believe or acknowledge the true state of a situation. Winter could feel a numbness like she had never known before closing in on her, as if what she saw wasn't really happening; like a movie in which at the end of the film, you just switched the television off, left the scenes behind, and went about your life and thanked God you never had to really witness such an event in real life.

  She knew she should run down and help them with the injured person. He looked like Connor, but not like her Connor. But it wasn't Connor because he would never leave her, never injure himself.

  The figure wasn't moving as blood leaked from a large gash on the side of his head, his nose trickling the same crimson fluid and flowing down his cheeks. Nolan bent down and began pushing on his chest as James covered the man's mouth with his own, trying to breathe life back into the lifeless form. Someone wrapped their arms around Winter, but her mind barely registered. It could only have been Serena as Winter saw Marty at the bottom of the cliff with the rest of them. Marty was crying for the stranger as she held the cell phone to her ear, her hand shaking as she covered her mouth.

  Winter just continued to stare below, watching the scene as it rolled by in slow motion. She wished she could wake up, for the bad dream to disappear, and all would be right again. They were just swimming, chilling with their friends. This had all been one big joke and soon she would see Connor laughing and this whole nightmare would be over. She promised herself after this she wouldn't talk to him for at least two weeks, out of principle, as punishment.

  Time passed, yet Winter still never moved. The paramedics checked the body, covered it up, and took it away. She watched her friends crying below, pulling at their hair in grief and shock. Nolan's hands were covered in blood. At one point she registered Nolan looking up at her, his face contorted in agony. She wanted to comfort him, to tell him everything was okay, but still her legs would not leave the spot at the edge of the cliff.

  Charlie showed up and sti
ll she did not move. Serena tried to pull her away, but Winter wouldn't budge knowing once she moved the scene would shift and she was afraid of the reality awaiting her. It was better to be an outsider, a spectator. Still, Serena, a girl she barely knew, had really only met since she started dating James that summer, remained standing behind Winter holding onto her for dear life. She had become a life jacket keeping Winter’s head above water, saving her from sinking below the surface and drowning.

  Winter's foot was so close to the cliff’s edge. She saw in her peripheral vision a medic and her brother slowly walking towards her as if she was going to jump. Why would she do that? Winter was convinced this was one crazy hallucination; any minute she would wake up and everything would be fine. She had to keep telling herself that.

  Charlie pounced on her, sweeping Winter into his arms and running from the spot. But Winter wasn't ready to leave; a part of her wanted to stay there, once she left there was no way she would ever return. Her heart was not ready to handle the impending onslaught. She kicked and punched at her brother. She felt pain in her throat, yet she had no idea why, and her eyes were unseeing as tears blocked her vision though she still could not understand her emotions.

  As she was whisked off and placed into a medical van, she prayed for sleep even as her body still fought to go back to that spot. If only she could sleep, she knew when she woke up this would all be behind her. This suffocating nightmare would be gone and she would open her eyes and Connor would be there. He would reassure her that nothing she witnessed was real.

  The jab of a needle pierced into Winter's arm; just a small sting and then everything became hazy, her body unable to fight any longer, her limbs heavy, immobile. She was calm, sleepy, and no longer felt that pain that tore at her chest. Winters eyes closed, blackness seeped in.

  Yes, Connor would be there when she woke.

  Winter

  Connor never returned. The dream, actually, the nightmare, had been real. Those first few nights alone without him were filled with numbness. The hands that would make circular patterns on her back soothing her and reminding Winter she was safe had all of the sudden been ripped away. No warning… just gone.

  The loneliness and emptiness were foreign and Winter spent those moments staring at her white bedroom walls as she laid curled up in a ball on her bed. Her body was waiting for him to wrap himself around her, but still he never came. The pain she refused to feel as she watched the scene below that day at the beach was nothing compared to the blade that sliced through her heart a week later when she had to deal with losing him all over again.

  Burying her love, her very reason for breathing, was excruciating. The numbness remained, along with a disbelief that this could even be happening. Winter watched the wreath-covered casket being lowered into the ground. The whole school came to say their goodbyes to the young man they cared about, admired, and befriended. He was just so...loveable. Even Sadie, the school bitch, tried to give her condolences, but Winter sadly didn't want to hear it.

  Through the memorial service and even at the cemetery, Connor’s mother Rosie sat next to Winter, holding her hand. His mother’s tears, her agony, the pain pouring from her very being was almost too much to bear. It wasn't fair for her to first lose her husband and now her only son as well. Winter wanted to be strong for her, to comfort her, but she couldn't, as her own grief was all-consuming. She didn't know how to show care for someone else when she couldn't even think beyond her own pain. She kept thinking she would turn her head and see him coming to comfort her.

  Days before the funeral, she wandered around, lifeless, as if still in a dream. The stark reality of the situation, the tragedy, was incomprehensible no matter how hard she tried. Her mind refused to come to terms with her hollow feelings of isolation. Truthfully, Winter had been grateful to feel nothing. Yet, as her friends and brother took turns dropping their roses onto the coffin being lowered into the ground, the enormity of what actually happened ripped through Winter’s body with a force she couldn't contain. She jumped out of her seat, lunging for the hole.

  No, no he cannot leave. He cannot be gone. She needed him like she needed air. He was the only thing giving her life—and love.

  Before she knew it, masculine arms wrapped around her waist from behind, keeping her from reaching the love of her life. Pain tore through her throat and Winter fought to breathe. She struggled with every ounce of strength she had to get out of her captor’s clutches. She needed to reach Connor in order to make everything okay and tell him she loved him.

  The strong arms tightened around her further as her brother Charlie stood in front of her with Rosie crying uncontrollably next to him. He grabbed Winter’s face between his hands and pulled her focus away from the plot, forcing her to look into his red, tear-streaked eyes. She didn't want to; she couldn’t let go of this moment, say goodbye. She would never say goodbye, but Charlie wouldn't give up. He held her face fiercely as she fought to look away, back to the hole. The struggle became too much, as her energy depleted, compelling her to give up the fight; her body slumped and the arms embracing her constricted more as they were the only things keeping her upright.

  Winter silently wailed making her throat raw. Her heart screamed as it shattered into a million shards, embedding their way into her chest. There was a brokenness within her she knew would never be fixed, a piece of herself had died and was being buried alongside Connor.

  As Winter dug at her throat to fight for air, she was swooped up under her knees and cradled like a child. Winter didn't need to look to know it was Nolan; like everyone else she was close to, she knew the scent of his distinct body spray. A fresh wave of grief washed over her as Nolan rushed her away from the gravesite.

  She pounded on his chest with the small ounce of energy she had left. She wasn't ready to leave. “No, I can't leave Connor!” she wailed in her mind. Tears flowed from her eyes like the water from the creek behind her house—the creek where Connor first told her he loved her. The creek she promised she would never return to. Not without him. Before she knew what was happening Nolan had her seated on his lap inside Charlie's car and they pulled away.

  Winter was enervated, worn thin from fighting within her to be back with Connor. Not once did Nolan let her go though as she scratched and beat at his face and chest. Begrudged, she pushed her face into his neck and cried and cried and cried. Nolan just held her, kissing her temple, his lips moving slowly against her skin. She would never know the words he said that day, but when she finally looked up at him after time had passed, she was in her room, still in his lap as he rested against the headboard of her bed. He had been crying, too. Winter reached up and wiped away his tears. Her pain was already too much for her to deal with; she couldn't see his as well.

  Charlie was right to bring them home. There was no way Winter could have handled seeing anyone else. Momentarily, she panicked and felt shame that Rosie was probably next door dealing with all the guests at the wake by herself. Winter slowly and calmly extracted herself from Nolan's hold and slid off his lap. He was reluctant to let her go, most likely thinking she would make a run for it and rightfully then she was probably crazy enough to do it. Even so, he released her.

  Winter got to her feet and walked to her desk. Grabbing a pen and paper, she wrote, "Who is with Rosie?" She passed the note and pen to Nolan, watching him nod and begin to reply. He handed her back the piece of paper: Charlie and Nicole are with her. And your mother.

  Her forehead furrowed, not understanding the last part. Nolan took back the note and wrote again before handing it back to her. "Your mother is actually sober today and wanted to help, so she's over there working in the kitchen."

  Winter leaned against her desk unsure of what to do. She glanced at the clock on her wall. It was three thirty, yet she felt like she could crawl back into bed and sleep to make the pain go away only...a fresh wave of tears erupted. She didn't know how to do this. For years, she branded herself as strong and independent, yet the truth was she was ne
ither. Every day since she met Connor he had been there—helping her, being her friend, watching out for her, loving her. He had been her life and now...she shook her head; she couldn't bear to say it.

  Before she completely broke down again, Nolan was in front of her, his broad frame towering above making her feel tiny, breakable. He wrapped his large hand around hers and led her back to the bed. He pointed down to it and Winter wiped at her eyes, climbing on top of it. She skirted over to the edge and lay on her side. Unanticipatedly, she felt the bed shift as Nolan rested his large frame behind her. His arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her body snug into his. His very presence calmed her, yet she just wept and wept until she was vacant of tears.

  As the sun went down and night greeted them, Nolan never moved or left her side. Winter could not remember shutting her eyes as sleep finally claimed her, temporarily subsiding her pain.

  Winter

  February, 2011

  “It's been seven months Winter. You cannot stay in here and wallow away any longer," Charlie signed with fury. Then Winter watched him pace back and forth in front of her window, rubbing his chin.

  "Yes, I can," she signed back annoyed. He stopped pacing and stood in front of her as she lay on her side refusing to get out of bed again; she had scarcely left her room in months. If not for Nicole, Winter barely would have showered.

  Everyone treated her like a broken little girl. Winter didn't want to admit it, but she felt like one. She spent her days writing, sleeping, and looking out the window towards Connor's room, just wishing his curtain would open and the previous seven months never happened. Her life was void and meaningless without him.