But I was on a roll, and suddenly, it all seemed logical in my stress-addled brain. Maybe the accident wasn’t my fault. Maybe it could have been prevented. “You two would still be married and Seth would still be here and everything would be fine. Last summer everything wasperfect. Now look at me!”
“Let’s just take a…”
“I hate it here!” I repeated, before running upstairs, slamming my door, and packing my bag.
The next day, I left Catwood Pond and didn’t return for nearly a decade.
Chapter 24
As the darkness of December deepens, we try to make the most of the daylight hours. But with the sky black by 4:00P.M., it’s hard not to feel like we live in a burrow. Ever since Thanksgiving, I have been closely watching my father to see if I can spot any more psychic glimmers. It feels like Seth could show up at any moment, and I want to be ready when he does. The possibility of it infuses my days with excitement, making bearable what would otherwise be a very quiet season.
One afternoon, my father calls to me from his chair beside the fire.
“I want to talk to you about something,” he says, and I brace myself for a revelation.
“What is it, Dad?” I hold my breath. “What do you want to talk about?”
“Barred owls.” Not what I expected. “They’re beautiful, yes, but don’t let your guard down.” He grows serious and leans toward me, then snaps his fingers softly. “They can rip your face right off.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Dad.”
Midway through the month, I get an unexpected email from Gemma. It’s been weeks since I finished my last copy project for her, and I still feel like I’m treading water financially. Dominic’s dental bill is finally paid off, but my father’s licensing deal ends in a few weeks. After that, all we have to live on is his pension, social security, and the modest amount I make from helping Paula with her website admin. I need more work.
The email reads:
hey mama,
the copy you wrote for us this fall was beautiful. I would love to chat about your career progression. It has been tough finding someone to fill your shoes. I wonder—would you consider returning to Actualize if we gave you a new title? Maybe your Dad could move back with you. Would love to find a way to make it work.
xoxox
G
I can’t help but laugh at the irony. Now that I’ve relinquished my life in the city, I am finally offered the promotion I should have had two years ago. I feel a surge of something unfamiliar. Power? Justice? For a long time, I had regarded Gemma as my savior—the woman who plucked me from the gig economy and gave me a steady paycheck. Now, I can’t help but delight in the turning of the tables.Sheneedsme. Of course, I can’t move my father to the city. He belongs here—we both do. For a moment, I am tempted to ask if I can take the position remotely. But the thought of going back to Actualize full-time makes my stomach twist.
Just then, I hear a frustrated grunt from the kitchen.
I set my laptop aside and go to check on my father, who is at the counter wrestling with a mango. He has hacked the poor fruit from multiple angles but made little progress in separating the flesh from the pit.
“I can’t get it off the nut!” he growls, his fingers slick with juice and pulp.
I take the knife out of his hands and reassure him, “Mangos are notoriously tricky.” I proceed to show him how to cut off one half, then the other, then make a grid and invert each half so it arches like a hedgehog.
He’s the one who taught me how to do this years ago, and now, he shakes his head in bewildered amusement. “Not in a million years would I have thought to do that.”
We eat our mango chunks by the fire as the light outside wanes, and I make a mental note to respond to Gemma later. I will, of course,decline. Surely Gemma can find someone else to peddle her snake oil, but there is only one person who is qualified to be my father’s aide-de-camp: me. It feels good to be needed in two places, but I am most needed here.
“You know, we better hurry up and get a Christmas tree,” I say. “It’s only two weeks away, and Nina will be here on the eighteenth.” She recently informed me that she will be bringing Nils, a guy who she has mentioned a few times over the course of the fall, but I didn’t realize that they had reached the point of transatlantic holiday travel. As my life is becoming quieter, hers appears to be getting more dynamic.
“Nina…?”
“My sister,” I remind him.
“Ah, yes. The one who went to Stockholm to have a baby.”
I am so astounded he remembers the Stockholm part that I almost disregard the rest. “She went to Stockholm to have acareer. Not a baby.”
“No? Maybe it’s too soon. What is the gestation for a human? Probably as much as three months.”
