It might be a lot to ask, but you never ask for anything, Blink.
Roshi
And it just so happens to be my one free weekend before school starts. I can be there by tomorrow!
Faye
I’m sure Stephen can survive one weekend without me.
In the cottage’s bedroom, filled with the scent of lavender and sunlight, I’m sitting with my laptop over my covers, oscillating between my manuscript, budget spreadsheets, and the master scheduling portal for the convenience stores. I breath out a relieved sigh at the thought of Roshi and Faye being here tomorrow afternoon and shoot my mom a text to let her know the plan.
I didn’t leave bed other than to make coffee, and pee out said coffee, for a full twenty-four hours. The last time I did this it was because of the flu. Now, it was the disease of distrust festering inside me. I was well acquainted with the feeling of distrusting other people. But not being able to trust myself was entirely new.
Hopelessly, helplessly, the longer I thought about the past two months, the more Gwen’s words rang true. I’d been making life-altering decisions like choosing between a burger or chicken nuggets off a drive-thru menu. If she was right about that, how could I be sure the rest of her words wouldn’t come true? That when the fog cleared, I would see the ways in which Declan and I didn’t fit with startling clarity. That the first time we broke apart was proof of our incompatibility, and diving in headfirst while grief’s claws still held meby the throat was a purely selfish decision. One made for my comfort alone.
I silenced the notifications on my phone, but Declan’s texts were making it through to my computer anyway.
Declan
Blair, I know you asked for space, but I just wanted to let you know I had a wonderful night with you. Tears and all. Please, take all the time in the world you need to think. Grief isn’t something you can run away from. And if you try, it will tackle you from the back. And no one likes a surprise tackle.
I hate myself for the way my heart flutters at the sight of his name alone, and the stupid smile that creeps onto my face at the football reference. But his words make my chest ache for him. In my own grief, I kept forgetting he was no stranger to pain. The grief of losing your life as you knew it came with its own set of complicated emotions. Everything was uncharted territory for me, but maybe, for him, it wasn’t. Maybe my grief wouldn’t create a ravine between us.
I start to type out an over-explanation of where my head is at and then delete it. Wasn’t it manipulative to drag someone through your contemplations about them while saying you needed space? And it wasn’t even contemplation abouthim. He was everything I wanted and more. It was about my inability to understand if I was thinking clearly during such an emotional time, and if I was using him as a safety blanket against the harsh reality of my new world—and here I was, doing it again.
I slam my computer shut and drop my head into my hands.
Hot, frustrated tears spill from my eyes from confusion so thick it feels like my thoughts are trudging through mud. Emotionally, I felt like an empty well when it came to other people. There was only enough energy for my own pain and no one else’s. Grief, at this stage, felt inherently selfish. So, how would I be capable of giving Declan the love he deserved? I could hardly listen to Faye complain about her mother-in-law for thirty minutes.
And besides, Lottie hid her suffering from her closest friends. She even hid it from me and my mom to the best of her ability. All the way to the painstaking end until she lost control of it.
And my mom protected me from the details of my father’s torment my whole life. No matter how much I pried, she never unearthed the specifics. And to think, she was in the middle of losing the man she loved, swallowing the dream life he promised her, and figuring out how to be a single mother, and yet, she never relied on me to shoulder the weight.
She went to great lengths to prevent her emotional distress from affecting my childhood, and although I still wanted to hear the story, I’m grateful she shielded me from things I was too young to bear at the time. So, wasn’t love hiding the pain you were in for the sake of others? Or was it letting them in?
The next morning, a knock at my door startles me while brushing my hair. I tiptoe to the door, hoping against all odds that it’s not Declan coming over to check on me. And to my utter shock, I see Faye and Roshi’s fish-eyed bobbleheads in the peephole.
“Ahhhh!” I scream, whipping the door open. “How did you guys get here? I thought you would call when you landed?”
Faye flashes her beauty pageant smile. “Your mom sent us a sneaky text telling us to call her when we landed. She picked us up from the airport this morning and was so excited to show us around your hometown!”
Roshi sheds her coat. “Yeah, Blair! How long were you going to keep this gem of a town hidden from us? This place is like the perfect set for a Nicholas Sparks book.”
I cackle my disbelief as I pull each of them in for a hug.
“Aw, I can’t believe you guys are here.” I jut my bottom lip out. “Thank you so much for dropping everything and coming out so last minute.”
“Oh, hush! You deserve the world. Now let us in. We have way too many bags for a two-night stay.” Roshi boogies past me through the doorway with her suitcase like an auntie in a movie. Overly comfortable and unwilling to accept your sappiness.
Faye follows her in, and I watch as their jaws drop. “Shut up,” they say in unison.
“This is all yours?” Roshi shouts.
“I mean, what you’re looking at now is pretty much the whole house. But yeah, isn’t it cute?”
“Um yeah! You think? I’m trying to furnish my house, and let me tell you, I don’t have the eye for interior decorating like I thought I would. And Stephen is no help in that department.”
Her words make me grateful in an instant. A house, fully furnished by Lottie herself, was a blessing I would never get over. I give them the short tour, and then set up Faye’s things in my bedroom, and unbox the blow-up mattress I had shipped overnight for Roshi in the living room.
