I watched him leave, thinking how he’d spent my entire childhood escaping into work after Mom left, leaving me with family friends and high school babysitters while he did his duty keeping Cherry Falls safe. The man put so much focus on safety, that sometimes he failed to stop and take in what it was he was protecting.
I slumped into the kitchen chair, the box of my mom’s old things in front of me and nothing but time to look through it as my dad’s shift probably wouldn't be over for another six hours at least. I could’ve walked the few miles to my apartment—being back in my childhood home wasn’t exactly my favorite, though I stopped over whenever I could to help Dad with things.
So many memories, and now I was supposed to sift through them while he was at work.
I opted instead for a shower.
I stopped at the tiny laundry room on the way to the bathroom, throwing in last night’s clothes and wrapping myself in the only towel I could find. I made my way into the bathroom, pausing at the mirror to take in my features.
Everything hurt, but only in ajust a workoutkind of way. I pressed fingertips to my lips, enjoying the tiny pinch of pain from Maverick’s demanding kisses. I loved that he felt things big, just like the man, his emotions were wide and all-consuming. I let the towel drop to my feet, analyzing my skin in the mirror and smiling when I found small pink marks from his nips and kisses along the underside of my breasts. He’d doted on me, the evidence of him everywhere.
Warmth filled me up at just the memory of being in his arms, feeling so safe and loved and cared for. I wondered what he was doing now, and I felt a surge of regret that I’d let my father take me back down the mountain.
I was an adult, he should respect me, but deep down I knew that my father had things he needed to work through that only time could heal. I wasn’t willing to tear what family I had left apart for some notion of high school love, I would at least hear my dad out first and then make my decision.
Ten minutes later I’d soaped and rinsed in the hot shower, enjoying the way it melted away the ache in my muscles and made me feel relaxed. I padded out to the kitchen still wrapped in the bath towel and poured orange juice from the fridge. I frowned when I realized how sparse Dad was keeping things stocked these days, and made a mental note to buy him some organic fruit and vegetables from the market the next time I had a chance.
With my orange juice in tow, I snatched the box of mementos and letters from the table and brought it to the couch. And then I began to read. At first it seemed only like schoolgirls passing notes back and forth, talk of crushes and bad teachers and teen dances, but as the playful loops and swirls turned to more concise and purposeful handwriting, so did the tone.
And then I realized what I was reading.
My mom and Maverick’s wife, Lily, had been best friends. At first they all seemed like friends, with mention of my mom and dad going to the homecoming dance together, and Maverick and Lily as they were announced prom king and queen. And as their senior year went on, the notes grew more angry and threatening. I even found some that were returned unopened.
Confused, I kept pulling out new letters and scanning for the reason they’d had a falling out.
And then at the bottom I found it, a yearbook of my mother’s with an unopened letter marking the page where Maverick and Lily stood side by side at graduation.
I slipped my finger under the envelope seal, opening the last remaining letter in the box, hoping it would give me some answers to the curse that had plagued these men for decades.
What fell out was a birth announcement, along with a small scratched note that said I’m sorry, please join us for a baby shower. Tucked inside that was another note, written in my mother’s long hand, begging her to leave Maverick—reminding her again that he wouldn’t be able to afford a family, that he had no skill and no motivation to work. That she would never be taken care of like she deserved, and was setting herself up for a life of hardship.Was love really worth it?the last line of the letter asked.
I thought of Aspen, then the pictures I’d seen in Maverick’s house as she grew up, the trips they’d taken and the experiences she’d had hunting and fishing on the ridge. And now she owned a new cafe in Cherry Falls. Could that really be it? Concern for their friend’s future wellbeing? I didn’t think my parents would throw away a friendship for that.
I slammed the yearbook closed, shoving all the papers back into the box and wishing I hadn't seen any of it—as much as it was nice to walk down memory lane, it raised more questions than answers.
I left the living room, throwing my clothes in the dryer and heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day with the few cosmetics I’d left behind when I’d moved out to go to college. Old trays of overly pink blush and cakes of concealer would be enough to make my face look like I hadn't slept out under the stars last night, as romantic as it had been.
And then I passed the time organizing my dad’s house from top to bottom, one eye open as I sorted everything that lay under a layer of dust.
When my mom had left Cherry Falls, she’d really taken everything with her. Everything but me.
I found old stacks of books and shoved them into a separate pile to take home, sorted old records that had a cool vintage vibe and I imagined I could use them to decorate one of the flower shop walls—or get my dad to bring them to the record store. This house hadn’t changed since Mom had left, right down to the curtains in the kitchen and the blanket on my bed, my father was stuck in a freaky time warp that crawled up my spine and left a little chill whenever I was here.
I missed what we had when I was a kid, we’d seemed happy for a while, until Mom spent less time doing family stuff and more time with new friends. By the time I was eight, I knew she had one foot out the door. She began leaving a backpack with a change of clothes in it outside under the steps, high heels and sparkly shoes with brightly colored eyeshadows and mascaras. She became a party girl almost overnight, responsibilities of family too much, and so, one day, we carried on without her.
It broke me for a while, but life was peaceful with Dad—I knew what to expect and I was glad for that. But Dad—he was still lost in a time warp, his hatred for Maverick as alive as it’d been all those decades ago.
By the time Dad came home seven hours later, the sun was already setting, and the house smelled of the homemade spaghetti sauce I’d brewed up in my boredom.
“House looks nice,” he uttered, dropping into the chair.
I’d left the shoebox of books front and center. His eyes glided over it, before he moved to take off his uniform boots.
“Hungry?”
“As a lion. It’s good to have you home.”
I suppressed the growl. He’d nearly kidnapped me and held me hostage out here all day, much like he’d assumed Maverick had done. “I cleaned places that look like they haven’t been touched since Mom was here.”
