For a second,I almost forgot that Chloe and Phoebe moved in yesterday.
For a second.
And then I came into the kitchen to get a mug of coffee, and saw a box of snickerdoodles on the counter with a note from Chloe. I’ve got no idea when she made them, but she obviously didn’t sleep much.
Thank you for giving us a safe place to land.
It’s not what she intended, but it smarts like a smack on the wrist. I offered her a safe space, then I froze her out. But seeing her in the attic, the one place I asked her not to go, released a whole dam of emotions I’ve been tiptoeing around for two years.
The worst part is that if I wanted to talk about it, she’d listen. She knew them just enough to understand how badly it hurts that they’re not here. It hurts even more to know how neatly she fit in this family, and I’ll never have all of us together again.
The regret is nearly enough to choke me.
I didn’t want you to face them alone.
I want to sit with you when you remember, too.
There’s no world where I deserve what she’s offering. Maybe I’m punishing myself for choices I made when I was too young to know better, but I’m the reason we broke. She deserved a man who tried harder, not a boy who shirked from the challenge of loving too many people.
She still deserves that, especially with Phoebe in the picture.
I just don’t know how to be that man.
I warm a cookie and eat while the sun comes up over the mountains. But I can’t let myself sit in the silence too long because there’s too much to do before Friday. And I’ll lose part of Thursday to get married.
Married.
We don’t have enough time to settle before we jump into this plan with both feet, and I wish I could give her more. But we’ll figure it out.
Phoebe is watching.
My mother always told the three of us that parents set the example for healthy relationships. But Dad sets the tone. Maybe it’s a little old-fashioned. I’m out of the loop since I’ve stayed holed up in this house for the last two years, but it always stuck with me.
So I’ll treat Chloe like a queen, and Owen will probably do the same.
On a brotherly level.
He promised Phoebe over dinner last night that she could help work on the sleigh, which works out since snow is in the forecast for today. The more indoor projects, the better. But I’ve got a whole list of things I need to get done outside before it falls too heavy, so I’ve got to let myself sit with these thoughts and feelings later.
A couple of hours pass by, and I’ve crossed a few items off my list. Enough that when the first snowflakes appear, I’m notoverly stressed about it. I tighten the last loose latch on the equipment shed as the snowfall grows heavier.
Too early for this much snow, but the mountain does what it wants.
Phoebe must’ve been at the window waiting because she bursts out the door with an over-excited shriek, as though she’s never seen snow. One snow pant covers her boot, the other caught on top. In her purple puffy coat and beanie, she looks like a marshmallow with legs.
And I can’t help the smile that spreads across my face.
“IT SNOWED,” she yells, like the whole farm needs an announcement.
Chloe follows, pulling her coat tighter, cheeks already pink. This moment is everything I ever dreamed of, and I know it’s come about in an incredibly untraditional way. I’m scared to keep wanting it, to interact with it.
I might lose it, or them.
But those feelings don’t matter because Chloe is like a magnet. She calls to me like I’m hers, and I probably always have been. Even when I was too stubborn to admit it.
I stand from my crouch and cross to the back porch.
By the time I reach them, Phoebe’s pants are fixed, and Chloe has her arms wrapped around her middle, her gaze scanning the field. A soft smile paints her lips after a moment, and I want to ask what she sees. But I also don’t want to ruin the moment.
