“It means you thought if you let go first, it wouldn’t hurt as much when they leave. Both EthanandMax, Cals. I see right through it. You thought it would make you brave.” Minka dropped an apple into her basket and sighed. “Trust me, it doesn’t. It just makes you lonely.”
The sounds of the orchard filled the silence between them then. A bee hovered between them then moved on. A camera shutter clicked as someone captured the perfect shot in the next row of trees. Somewhere, a child laughed near the cider press—a sound too bright for how hollow her chest felt.
Cali’s chest ached. “You make it sound like I did something wrong.”
“No, Cals. I think you did somethinghuman.” Minka smiled faintly and took one of Cali’s frigid hands in hers, so Cali would know Minka was being sincere. “But I’ve played that game before. Told myself I was being practical, giving someone space so I didn’t get hurt. All it really did was make sure he never knew I wanted him to stay.” She sighed again, heavy with the memory. “I just don’t want you to make the same mistake I did. If you want Ethan to stay, you’ve got to tell him. Otherwise there’s no way he’ll have a chance to decide for himself.” They walked hand-in-hand for a while, minds circling around their own thoughts. Then Minka’s voice softened. “By the way, he didn’t show up to Nine Lives either.”
“Ethan?”
“Yep. When I texted everyone to meet at the café instead, that you weren’t feeling well, he said he forgot he’d made plans.”
Cali sighed. “That probably just means he forgot he had plans, Minka.”
Minka smirked. “I think he didn’t want to be there because you weren’t there.”
“And here I was trying not to be there because I thought he would.”
“Sounds like a perfect match to me.”
“Oh, shut up.” Cali grinned and kicked at a fallen apple with her boot.
“You might as well talk to Ethan about all this before the whole town starts doing it for you,” Minka advised.
“No meddling, Minka. You promised.”
“I think you two are meddling quite well all on your own, thank you.” Minka plucked another apple, tossed it into Cali’s basket, and grinned. “Now stop brooding. You’re scaring the produce.”
Chapter 19
Cali was surprised at how tired she felt when Minka dropped her off at the A-frame house. It had been a Sunday off. Her brain still buzzed from the cider, low radio on the trip back, and the crisp air as day cooled to evening. Not to mention she had enough apples to last her until the end of the year. She fumbled for the house keys with hands full, unable to wave goodbye to Minka, and mused on what she’d bake with the apples first. Her mind drifted momentarily to the image of Ethan in her kitchen, hovering beside the stovetop in his apron, careful with each stir and sip all on her behalf. Her stomach tightened at the thought. It didn’t help that everything that smelled like the outdoors in autumn also smelled like him.
Cali set the bags of apples down on her doormat and noticed a piece of paper taped to the front door. She adjusted her glasses and plucked it from the window. The simple script readFixed your deck while you were out. Hope you don’t mind.—Ethan, Crosstown Repairs. A smile traced along her lips. Two thoughts consumed her, the first being gratefulness. Ethan had promised to swing back by her place and repair the broken plank, and he’d delivered despite everything. Cali wasn’t so sure she would’ve done the same for him. At the same time, her heart hollowed at the thought she missed being home when he swung by. She wasn’t quite sure how she would’ve responded even if she’d been home, but then she knew. After some awkward conversation andmaneuvering, she probably would’ve excused herself, gone to get groceries or gas or just circle back roads around the lake trying to hide from the gravity this man held in her presence. Ethan probably knew this, too, and chose his timing wisely.
But how could he have known she would be at the orchard today? Maybe Minka let the update slip out when she saw him at the café late in the week. Either way, a fixed deck was a fixed deck, and it warmed her to think Ethan Cross had driven back here to fix it.
She traced her thumb over the words “Crosstown Repairs” and laughed softly to herself. One more quip for the growing list of inside jokes they shared. But it was a bittersweet thought. In a few months, would that list be a memory of him, or would he hang around Autumn Ridge so they could keep adding to it? She thought of Max then, too, his soft fur beneath her fingertips. The house had ached with emptiness ever since he’d run off. She didn’t know which of those two she missed more.
Minka was right. Cali knew she was right. If she wanted Ethan to stay, she had to ask him, stop making him try to read her mind. But her head kept resisting the hope that pumped blood through her veins, that he’d stay and somehow this would all work out. Him and Max both. A part of her still thought she was dreaming.
She folded the piece of paper and stuffed it in her pocket then entered the A-frame and set the apple bags on the countertop. Beyond the sliding glass doors, the deck was bathed in the glow of a soft, red sunlight, water glistening from the lake beyond it and a few breeze-kissed trees framing the view. The image pulled her toward it until she found herself on the back deck, smoothness underfoot, the faint smell of sawdust and fresh wood stain still carried in the air. His craftsmanship was perfect. The size. The cut. The color of the stain. Despite the age difference of the planks, it looked as if that break had neverhappened. She wondered then if he’d replaced more than one board or had somehow weathered the stain to match the rest of the deck. Whatever he’d done, it was beautiful.
She rushed back inside, and before daylight completely disappeared, she made a cup of chamomile tea and pulled out the old papasan rocking chair from the garage—the one that sat out there before the deck was compromised. One deep inhale and a sip, and she found herself curled into a flannel blanket, body pressed into the overstuffed chair cushion. It was heaven. Pure heaven. She’d missed this so much, too. She stayed there, rocking softly with her mug in hand until the sun extinguished behind the lake, leaving bands of gold and pink painted across the sky as it melted down.
Once her mug was empty and her pulse calmed, she pulled her phone out of her pocket and found the abandoned string of texts between her and Ethan from before. She typed outThanks. Deck looks great.a few times only to erase it again. When she read it back to herself, she was unsure how that made her sound. Too cold? Too succinct? In the end she decided to send the message anyway but included an actual photo of the deck and comfy chair, her mug peeking from the corner of the frame and the last of the daylight a backdrop. She expected him to take a while to reply or to not reply at all. But within minutes, her phone was vibrating on her lap.
Ethan—That view deserves a brochure.
Cali—I’d rather enjoy it than advertise it.
Ethan—You got two of those chairs?
Cali—Just one. You snooze, you lose.
She watched as three dots appeared and disappeared, the seconds ticking by. She grabbed the blanket, trying not to fixate on what he’d reply next, and retreated into the warmth of the house. Finally he messagedI’m just glad you’re safe.
She didn’t know where to take it from there. She typed out every thought that entered her head, likeIt’s all because of youandAre you free right now?But nothing seemed to fit the moment. She found herself deleting all of them exceptI made a mistake, which she accidentally sent. Her heart raced in her chest as she scrambled for an excuse.
On the spreadsheet. Sorry. Pressed send before I was ready. Can we meet up at the library a couple days before the gala to cross-check what I captured?
