“I’d be okay if this was all we ever did.” He presses a kiss on my forehead. “I just wish you weren’t hurting when we did it.” His fingers stroke my back, and I breathe through another stretch of intense pokes and prods.All we ever didhas the air of permanency that a relationship with an impending deadline shouldn’t, and it emboldens me to ask the question I’ve tried to ignore.
“Liam, what happens when I have to come back here without you after Caleb’s wedding?”
The soft strokes on my back pause. “I honestly don’t know, but if you want this to work, we’ll figure it out. Trust me with that, okay?”
“Okay.” I stretch out as another spasm grips my left ovary.
“Do you want me to distract you, or do you want quiet?” he whispers.
“Distraction, please.”
“Let’s see. Did I ever tell you about the day I met Nana?”
“No. But that sounds perfect.” My head sinks peacefully against his chest, and I revel in his heart’s slow, steady rhythm beneath my cheek.
“You’re settled and comfy?”
I focus on the sandalwood curling around me and hope my surrounding sensations will help me navigate through this flare until the medicine kicks in. “As good as I’m going to be.”
Liam gently wraps his hand around mine. “Well, I guess I should ask you first, did you know my great-grandpa built both our houses?”
“No, actually, I didn’t.”
“That’s why the backyards are connected. He built mine first, and then yours for my grandpa when he got married.”
“So your dad grew up in my house?” I ask.
“For a short time, yeah. Once my great-grandpa passed away, his dad moved him into the main house and rented out yours until I came along.”
“What happened then?”
“He moved into it, said because it was smaller it’d be easier to maintain and gave my parents the main house. He passed maybe a year before you moved in and left both the houses and the creamery to my parents. Now that I’m older, I can appreciate everything he did for us, but at the time, the street was full of older people who didn’t like my mom or me much, and I was kind of lonely. The day you moved in, I was home alone. It wasn’t supposed to be for long, but something happened that kept my mom out.”
“You would have been five,” I say quietly.
“I was a very mature five.”
“No, you weren’t.” I snort.
“Anyway,” he fake scolds, continuing the story in a low and steady cadence that calms my nerves with every word. “A huge commotion drew me to the window, and I saw the moving truck had just arrived. I crossed my fingers, peeking out. I had asked my mom if she thought whoever was moving into the new house had any kids I could play with, but she didn’t know, so I sat by that window for a week waiting—and got way too excited that the time was finally here. I bolted out the front door, no socks or shoes, even though it was the middle of winter, and froze behind one of our shrubs, watching this tiny strawberry-haired fairy looking up at falling snowflakes like she had never seen them before.”
“I hadn’t.” My breath catches in my throat. I remember that day, too. I remember watching my first snowflake drifting silently to the ground. Remember being amazed at the white blankets of soft rolling hills shining in the distance. But I don’t remember Liam, not then. He came into the picture an hour later, sipping hot cocoa in the corner of our furniture-less living room, pillows serving as cushions on the floor. Nana put inTake Me Out to the Ballgameto keep Caleb and me entertained. I remember feeling like Liam’s eyes were sliding toward me, but every time I peeked over, his attention was trained on the TV, enraptured by Gene’s acrobatic dance moves and Jules Munshin’s comedic relief.
“I must have stood there and stared for a good five minutes, watching snowflakes collect and glitter in your hair, not thinking about anything else, when a loud southern voice asked me where my shoes and coat were and if I wanted to catch ‘p-neumonia.’
“Nana had her hands on her hips, staring at me. She followed my eyes, watching you skip into the house, and smiled. She told me that you were sweet as a peach, too, and if I went and got warmer clothes on, I could come over and she’d introduce us. I didn’t say anything back. I don’t think I talked much then, to be honest; I don’t really remember talking before you. So I just nodded and walked back up the stairs with stinging feet while Nana watched me, but the door had locked behind me, and I didn’t know what to do. I jiggled the handle again, trying not to cry. But my feet were burning, and I was worried I couldn’t come over if I didn’t get a jacket. She asked me if I was home alone, and I nodded.
“‘Well, alright then,’ she said, ‘Your feet aren’t going to get any warmer waiting out here. Let’s find you some hot chocolate and a spot by the fire. Come on, hurry in.’ I must have flown down those stairs to her.” He laughs. “She asked if I had a name, and I told her it was Liam. She asked if I was left home alone a lot, and I shrugged with asometimes.And then she asked if I had a nana around, and I shook my head. I had never met any of my grandmothers. They passed when I was still a baby, and my mom’s dad was somewhere in Florida, but I’d always wanted something like the grandmas I’d seen on TV. ‘Well, you got one now.’ She said it so matter-of-factly, but it changed my world.”
“She was the best.” I sigh, the painkillers relaxing me a smidge. “Going home in a few days wouldn’t be so bad if she were still there.” I nuzzle further into Liam’s shoulder, warmth from hearing Nana’s story flooding me, mixing with a swell of emotions. “She always had a way of making everything better. But that house feels impossible without her there.”
“She did.” He strokes the back of my neck. “You know you can stay with me in my condo if you want.”
“That’s a very tempting offer. I don’t think I’ve asked you where you live now.”
“I moved up north to New Hampshire, actually. In Portsmouth. Have you ever been there?”
“No. But it sounds far, so I like it already.”
