“It wasn’t working out. I know you know that.” I’m not going to tell him all the dirty details because even though Jude likes to act like his sisters are the bane of his existence, he would make it his life’s mission to destroy anyone who hurt us, or, say, cheated on us. “It should have ended a long time ago and then Dad died and I realized I couldn’t fake it anymore.”
He doesn’t say anything for so long that I say “Hello?’ to make sure our connection didn’t crap out.
“And Holden takes the pain away?” he finally asks, his voice sounds funny—thicker. “Is he a distraction?”
“He’s not a distraction,” I say. “He isn’t taking away the pain. He’s helping me cope with it. Jude, you like him. You wouldn’t have hired him if you didn’t.”
“I do like him. I always have and you always haven’t.” I can hear the smirk in his voice. Jerk.
“People change.”
“Dixie’s not sure he has,” Jude replies. Now I know which sister to kill.
“Is that why you’re coming?” I turn back to the counter, open a cupboard and pull out a frying pan. “Because don’t. I promise you, he’s changed. I’ve changed too. We’re good.”
“I’m coming because Zoey wants to show Declan the leaves changing colors. He doesn’t exactly get a fall here and hockey starts in a week so it’s our last chance to do it,” Jude explains. After a pause, he bursts out, “And Mom is worried about you and is making me check on you in person and possibly kidnap you and drag you back here. Okay, see you soon, bye!”
He hangs up before I can respond.
I sigh. My poor mom. I haven’t told her anything that’s going on, but clearly she knows. I start to chop up the leftover potatoes from last night and toss them in a pan to fry, and then I make an omelet with cheese and chives, and contemplate calling my mom. Finally, I decide I have to. She picks up almost right away and answers with, “Jude just texted me that you’d be calling. It’s about time.”
Of course, he knew I’d call her.
“Sorry, Mom,” I say. “I haven’t been purposely shutting you out.”
“Yes, you have,” she says back but without any anger. “You’ve shut us all out and that’s exactly what I expected. You did it to protect us from you because you thought you were taking it harder than the rest of us. And you probably were.”
“No. This has to be hardest on you and I know that,” I reply, fighting tears as I beat the eggs in a bowl before pouring them into another pan on the stove. “But I knew I wasn’t going to be able to handle all the additional questions or concerns about breaking up with Ty and everything, so I hid. Honestly, Mom, it was nice to be here in Maine because it feels so much more a part of Dad than San Francisco or even Toronto.”
“I know, sweetie. I’m actually glad you’re there instead of Toronto. And I’m glad you broke up with Ty.” That last statement shocks me. I always thought she liked Ty. “You two had grown apart and I wasn’t seeing the happiness you once had. In fact, I wasn’t seeing any happiness at all, and I knew it wasn’t just because of Dad being sick.”
“No, it wasn’t.” I cradle the phone as I slide the second omelet from the pan to the plate I pulled out of the cupboard. “I wanted that one great, romantic love of my life the way you and Dad had. The day you met Ty, after we’d been dating a few months, you said the way we were with each other reminded you of how you and Dad were when you first met, and I was so thrilled by that. When it started to fall apart, I was too ashamed to admit it. I’m sorry I didn’t confide in you.”
“You’ve never been a sharer,” she says. “Even when you were little you kept things bottled up and ignored your feelings. You’re just like your dad in that way, which is why when he did share feelings, you had to take it seriously.”
“Like the letters he wrote,” I say and a lump starts to form in his throat.
“Like the letters,” she agrees and then sighs. It’s not as heavy as it used to be and that’s a good thing.
“I took what he said to heart. This path I’m on…” I pause and bite my lip. “Whatever this is…being here and everything…it’s what I need to do.”
“I hear the everything part is Holden Hendricks,” my mom says, never one to dance around an elephant in a room. “I won’t bother you with a bunch of questions—even though I have a bunch of questions. I just want you to talk to me when you’re ready.”
“I will, Mom. I love you.”
“Love you too, sweetie.”
We say good-bye and I tuck my phone back into the hoodie and make some coffee. When it’s done I carry two plates with potatoes and eggs and two steaming mugs of joe into the cottage. Holden is in the bathroom, struggling to install the new vanity. I put the food down on the dining room table and walk into the bathroom and promptly pick up one end of the heavy gray wood cabinet.
He gives me a look like he’s going to complain, but I just smile at him. “Teamwork makes the dream work!”
He laughs and lets me help him get it into place. He’s sweating pretty hard, which makes me think he was struggling with it for a while before I got there. He wipes his brow with his forearm as he bends and grabs a drill to secure it. “Can you take a quick break and eat this amazing breakfast I made for you?”
He glances into the dining room and I swear I hear his stomach rumble. “I shouldn’t, but I will. Hopefully, food will help with this headache.”
As we eat, he makes his usual hot-as-fuck groaning noises, which means he loves my cooking. But I can’t help noticing he still looks a little overheated. I reach out and touch his forehead. “Holden, you’re burning up!”
“Just been overexerting myself. It’s fine.”
