Winter Signs (Season Named Series Book 2)

by Sarah Gai

  She watched as Charlie dropped her bag in the hallway and ushered her inside and out of the cold. The fireplace full of burning logs warmed the house. Nothing was familiar as Winter walked through the living room. The house had not only had a facelift on the outside, but also on the inside. The walls were no longer a dirty white, but painted taupe; the ratty, old, corduroy sofa was replaced with a cream leather one and the old box-television was missing, replaced with a flat screen secured above the mantle. It was the smell that completely threw Winter off guard; absent was the stench of stale cigarettes and wet walls, instead renewed with fresh paint and the scent of pine cleaner. She felt off kilter, as if she was a visitor in another home.

  She looked around at all the photos of happier times placed along the walls. There were some of her and Charlie as well as her and Nicole. What struck her to the core were the ones of her parents, Charlie, and her as a family—memories she could barely remember. She walked over to the living room wall and ran her fingers along the frames, stopping at one of her father. Oh, how she missed him. His jet-black hair was cut short and his clean-shaven face smiled back at her from behind the glass showing how handsome he was; in the photo he looked full of life, as if there was no trace of the ill man whom deteriorated. Winter glanced at the photo next to it of her mother and father on their wedding day, smiling at each other like they were in their own world; the love in their eyes was palpable and beautiful. Her mother was...happy.

  Winter felt the tap on her shoulder and turned to look up at Charlie. "Come on into the kitchen and have coffee."

  She nodded and followed him through the archway and into...a brand, stinking-new set up. No longer was there the old, outdated seventies-style kitchen. In its place were fresh, white, shaker cupboards displaying elegant dishes behind their glass panels. Gray granite countertops and stainless steel appliances complimented one another to complete the functional space.

  "When did you do all this?" Winter signed as she walked towards the countertop where Nicole placed a steaming cup of coffee for her.

  "Well, Nolan and I renovated it about a month ago."

  Nolan—a name she had not heard in a while. She often wondered how Nolan was doing. She knew he and Charlie had taken over the construction company Charlie worked for as a teenager, but she never asked more than was necessary.

  "Well, it's wonderful," she smiled at him.

  "How about I leave you two to catch up and I'll take your bag to your room,” Nicole added, speaking slowly, giving up on signing altogether for the day. Winter shook her head and turned, insisting she could do it, only to be stopped by her passing friend. "No, talk to your brother for a while."

  Winter nodded gratefully and turned to look at Charlie again. He pushed off the counter he had been leaning on by the sink, his long strides headed back towards the living room. Winter followed and sat down on the new sofa, turning to face him. The smell of new leather was inviting and comfortable. Winter worried if she sat there too long, sleep was going to claim her after the day she endured.

  "So, how long has mama been in rehab?" she asked after placing her cup on the mahogany coffee table.

  "Just over two months now. We convinced her a few times before, but she always signed herself out before completing the program," he lightly shook his head.

  Winter could see how worn-out he was. Once again, she chastised herself for being so selfish. Without a second thought, she had left him to carry the burden.

  "What makes you think this time will be any different, Charlie?" How on earth had he afforded to send her to a clinic? It probably wasn’t cheap, Winter thought.

  "Because we told her this was her last chance. No more money, no more help from Nic, Rosie, or me. If she didn't clean up, we would have to walk away. It's hard to say, but after you left she changed. She really stopped venturing out at all. I couldn't be around and watch her waste away. I needed to step out of our living arrangement so Nolan and I got a place to share in town. Somehow the drinking remained the same, and you know I would never give her money to support that. I simply paid her bills and dropped off food. Rosie would update her clothing and help with the washing, but it wasn't until Rosie reported to me that she had seen a lot of cars parking down the street throughout the night and strange men started coming to the house...God, Winter I couldn't believe what her life had become. Every time she checked out of rehab she would fall into the same old patterns. But she still had us around...you know?"

  "Why didn't you tell me Charlie?" Winter asked sadly.

  "Because there was nothing you could do—honestly. This time though, she knows she will lose everything. We won't support her if she doesn't change. It was a hard decision, but you can't help someone who won't help herself and, if I do, then I'm enabling her," he finished.

  "Do you think she will try this time? Change?"

  Charlie rubbed at his chin, a look of uncertainty in his features. "I hope so Winter. I really do."

  "Well, I'm here now Charlie. Whatever I can do, please tell me and I'll try."

  "No, Winter. I'm just so glad you're back. I missed you so much."

  “What about when mama gets out? I can help look after her."

  "I don't expect you to. Let’s cross that road when it comes; just enjoy these few weeks with me until she is discharged and we can go from there. I really want you to come and see her in the hospital though."

  Winter reluctantly agreed for his sake, unsure of whether she was ready to face her mother or not. She was going to make this up to Charlie, though. Winter reached over and hugged her brother. He squeezed her back tightly, seeming to not want to let her go. She felt the relief in his muscles as they held each other there. Over his shoulder she spotted Nicole standing in the hallway, a single tear rolling down her cheek; Winter met the soft smile displayed on her face.

  Winter pulled back, letting her brother go. "Do you want us to stay? Or you could come home with us? What would..."

  Winter grinned, "No, I've had enough heart-stopping excitement from the both of you today. Now go away and let me rest." Winter stood, pulling her brother off the sofa and pushing him towards the front door. She stopped in front of Nicole. "I'm still mad at you," she signed.

  Nicole shook her head and mouthed, "No you’re not. And I love you, too," she sprang forward and squeezed the life out of Winter.

  Winter watched and waved as the couple got back into their car. Seeing them was worth the panic and trip home. She didn't realize just how much she truly missed them.

  She needed to make arrangements back home, but for now, Winter just wanted to settle in; tomorrow she would figure out how she was going to make up for all her years of absence.

  Winter

  She slept well; honestly, she slept like a peaceful child. Her old room was kept the same; the walls still held pictures of her and Connor. She didn't dare go to them knowing the moment her hands touched the photographs a new flood of tears would start. Instead, she blew a kiss towards the young man smiling back at her and turned towards her bed. She was exhausted and didn't even think to have a shower, the soft bedspread begging her to crawl underneath and snuggle in tight. It was one of the best decisions she had ever made.

  Along with the new morning came new decisions and loose ends to tie up. After finally getting out of bed and taking a long shower, Winter got dressed in a pair of Levi's, thick wool socks, and a ruby red knit jumper with a large cowl neck. Tying her hair into a messy bun with a pen was an every day ritual for her and that way she always had one on hand. She thought of it as killing two birds with one stone—be prepared was her motto. Winter made her way into the kitchen. Her first point of action had been to turn on the coffee machine. Then she opened the fridge and sighed—no food; literally, not one scrap of food in the new fridge. Winter shut the door and walked back down the hallway into her room.

  Rummaging through her duffle bag, she grabbed her purse and phone and a cream parker from her closet she hadn't worn in over six years. At the bottom of
the closet she reached down and found her old snow boots and she was ready to make the ten-minute walk into town.

  Once she left the house, Winter made her way down to the end of the street and crossed the road. The streets were quiet in the morning; the only truck to be seen was the snowplow clearing the roads. The air was crisp, the cold biting at her cheeks and nose. As she hit Main Street, she saw Lawson's Grocery was still there. It looked the same as always—its sign still missing the “W” and the red paint around the windows faded and chipped, showing the old wood underneath. It was nice to see some things never changed.

  Winter watched the old cow bell ding above the door as she entered. She walked past the counter and saw old Mr. Lawson appear from behind the store room curtain. He looked straight at her and she grinned wide.

  "Hello," she saw him mouth as he made his way to the register.

  She waved at him and kept walking towards the aisle. Well, what did she expect? To come home and have a welcome back party? Of course not, not everyone would recognize her. She grabbed a basket and began to fill it with bread, cheese, peanut butter, milk, some apples, and last, but not least, some hot cocoa. Winter paid for her items and began her trek home.

  As she trudged on, bags in one hand, she sent Holly a message explaining where she was, the lie that brought her home, and her plans for the next few months. Instantly Holly replied, "Ha ha, well I like your friend already. Girl, I have been telling you for years to take your butt home. Let me know what you need done and I'll do it. Talk soon and let me know how you are from time to time xo." Of course Holly would agree with Nicole; it's one of the reasons Winter became such fast friends with the redhead; she had a firecracker personality like her future sister-in-law.

  Winter pocketed her phone and crossed the street. Just as she turned to walk up the driveway, she spotted Rosie walking to her mailbox. A small part of Winter hoped she would go unseen, but she had no such luck. She knew this had been coming, she just wasn't prepared for it to happen right then.

  Winter stopped still in her tracks as their eyes latched on to one another, both unable to look anywhere else. Winter broke her statue-like stance and lifted a hand, giving a small wave. Rosie's hand flew to her mouth, dropping the newspaper into the snow and she rushed towards Winter. She had only managed to take three steps when Rosie reached her and wrapped her in a warm embrace. It felt like coming home. Rosie had not changed a bit; her sweet lavender scent wafted and circled Winter's senses. She could have stayed in that embrace forever and felt safe, but something was obstructing her hold.

  Winter pulled away and peered down between them with a fair amount of shock and confusion, Winter looked up and Rosie nodded. Rosie let her go and stepped back, her hands rubbing at her swollen midsection.

  "You're pregnant?"

  "Yes," Rosie signed. "Oh, I have missed you so much sweet girl and I have so much to tell you. Come," she waved Winter on behind her as she turned and trudged through the snow in her gumboots back towards her home.

  Winter hesitated; she hadn't been inside Connor's place since before the accident. Rosie stopped in realization and turned back to look at Winter. "Please," she begged, a look of sadness on her beautiful face.

  Taking a deep breath, Winter began to move again. She had to do this—too many years had passed. Seeing her brother and soon to be sister-in-law yesterday had been the reminder she needed—she couldn't run from this pain anymore.

  Rosie ushered her inside and pushed her towards the kitchen. From what Winter could see, nothing had changed, but surprisingly, it was comforting. She had spent many hours inside this home with...she pushed the thought out of her mind, unable to go there yet.

  Although he was gone, being back inside the home the way it was, as if no time had passed at all, felt like any minute he would come dashing down the stairs.

  They reached the kitchen and Rosie pushed her down into one of the kitchen chairs. "Let me look at you." Winter sat there as if on display as Rosie looked her up and down. "My goodness, you haven't changed a bit—still as beautiful as ever," she smiled down lovingly at Winter.

  "What about you?" Winter pointed towards the round belly hidden behind the dressing gown.

  Rosie blushed and turned to walk over to the percolator. Pouring two cups of coffee, she returned and handed one to Winter, placing her own on the table and taking a seat across from her. "Well, after you left, it was hard."

  Winter looked away. A hand brought her chin back around to see Rosie smiling. "Don't you dare. You had your own grief and I had mine," she assured, her face resolute. "Anyway, for two years I kept myself busy. I got a job as a receptionist at the dental office and, well, one day the most amazing man walked in and woke me up from my gray existence."

  "Does he have a name?" Winter signed as Rosie drifted off into her sweet memories.

  "Oh yes, of course. His name is Carl. It was a whirlwind, but we just knew. So six months later, at the courthouse, we tied the knot. And well...six months ago we had the shock of our lives when we found out, at 45, we were pregnant," she rubbed at her belly soothingly.

  "I’m so happy for you Rosie!" Winter reached over, hugging the woman who was like a second, rather only, mother to her. Rosie squeezed her back hard. After a few minutes the pair pulled apart; Rosie's eyes glistened with shed tears.

  "I'm so sorry I wasn't here. And I'm sorry I left you and my brother to handle my mother," Winter apologized.

  Like an old hand, Rosie signed as if she never stopped. Truth was she was even better than before. "No. No apologies. You had to go look after yourself. As for your mama, I tried, really, but that woman is so stubborn. But I just know this time things are going to work for her," she assured. "Now, enough of that pouting young lady," Rosie demanded, her serious face softening into the warm-hearted woman Winter knew.

  They talked for hours, well into the afternoon. Carl sounded wonderful and Rosie seemed so over the moon about him that Winter could not wait to meet him. They caught each other up on the happenings of their daily lives over the past few years. It was nice and Winter felt like for the first time since being back she was excited.

  Every now and then she caught herself looking towards the hallway, a feeling of déjà vu sweeping through her body. She had sat with Rosie at that table many times as she waited for Connor to bounce into the kitchen; a part of her expected it to happen again.

  Just being in the house saddened her. She missed him so much. She just wanted to curl up into a ball and cry, but she wouldn't do that; she had to look strong for Rosie although what she really felt was weak. Rosie was his mother and there was probably nothing worse than losing your child, but she was a fighter, too. Here she was still missing him, yet she allowed herself to move on. She made the effort and it had paid off, as Rosie was living her life and loving again. Winter was envious of her; it made her feel feeble.

  It wasn't until almost two o'clock that Winter finally stepped through her mother’s front door once again. Dropping the bags of groceries on the kitchen counter, she turned and walked back to the coatrack by the front door and hung up her parka. Just then, the vibration of her phone in her back pocket alerted her to a new text message. As she kicked off her boots, she reached for her cell and saw a text from Nicole: "Dinner...our place...6."

  "I have plans tonight, maybe another time?" Winter replied with a smiley face emoji. She only had a few emails to send; one to her landlord to pay up three months rent from her savings and to ask if he could temporarily forward her mail to her mother’s house and also she needed to email her boss, Andrew, and see what he could figure out as far as her working long distance.

  "No, your plans involve being here by 6. Charlie has been slaving in the kitchen all day making your favorite meal."

  Hah, Nic was such a liar. Winter knew all too well Charlie couldn't cook more than a frozen pizza and half the time the edges were burnt. Unless he had become a master chef since she had been gone?

  "Okay, I'll be there :)" she replied. W
inter was actually really excited. It was the first time in a long time they would all hang out.

  Now that she was home, she was going to do just that—hang out and reacquaint herself with the people she loved the most.

  Winter

  Winter arrived right at six. As she stepped out of the cab, her mouth flew open. Charlie and Nicole’s home was more than a house—it was an architect’s dream. The two-story wooden home was huge with corrugated iron enveloping the outside of the bottom floor while the upper section was a mixture of treated pine with large glass windows overlooking the water. It was magnificent, with angles jutting out everywhere giving an eye-popping, unique, yet modern appeal. Winter was impressed. It was a proud moment for her as she thought about her brother building this house with his own two hands.

  Winter walked up the driveway and before she even reached the double-wide front door, Nic came flying out and crashed into her. It was so odd to look at her friend and not see the colored highlights, piercings, and thick, dark eyeliner that was an every day must in their teenage years. Now, not an ounce of black make-up could be seen as these days she resembled more of a 1950's housewife. Her yellow pin-up dress and perfectly coifed hair was a far cry from the girl she remembered. But wearing a summer get-up in winter still made her future sister-in-law friggin' crazy. Like really crazy!

  "Come, come I'm cold," she signed ushering Winter in through the front door.

  Winter wanted to tell her, "Well no wonder, you're dressed for the wrong season,” but she decided against it. She wouldn't be Nicole if she didn't surprise people with her contradictory outlook. Winter took her coat off and placed it on the coat stand by the front door. She wasn't expecting to feel so drab next to her friend, opting to just come along in a pair of yoga pants and an old Mickey Mouse sweater she found in her closet. Her hair was still tied into a messy bun and no make-up covered her face. It's not like anyone was coming over tonight, aside from the three of them.