I chew my thumb as I stare at the screen, and I can practically hear my pulse in my ears. But nothing happens. I wait, staringat the screen, until I finally convince myself he’s not going to respond. But just when I’m about to lock my phone, three dots appear.
Silas
Transmission went. Congrats on the job.
Tears blur my vision as I read his message again and again and again.
That’s it.
That’s all we’re going to get.
He’s still the person I want to share everything with. That’s never changed, even though the distance between us grew. In my mind, I was trying to protect him, and us, and keep everything we always had intact. But now he wants nothing to do with me.
He feels like I left him behind. And I feel like he never tried to walk with me.
I guess we can’t move on from that now.
ELEVEN
NOW I’M TWENTY-SIX
My alarm starts beeping,and I quickly roll over to turn it off.
Fuck, it’s cold.
I groan, shove the blankets back, and reach for the hoodie I left crumpled on the floor.
The floorboards are cold under my bare feet as I step into the living room and see the faintest orange glow in the wood stove from the few remaining coals. It’s a cooler end to April this year, and I’m more than ready for the end of cold nights. This old cabin is drafty, and there’s a lot of work I should do to it before next winter so it holds heat better. But I’ve already been in here for two years, and I say that every summer.
I shove a couple logs into the stove and coax the fire back to life before heading into the kitchen. I don’t turn on any lights, even though it’s 4:30 AM and still dark. The soft glow of the early morning sky outside streams through the windows to light up the counter space just enough for me to get the coffee brewing, and keeps everything feeling still and peaceful.
Eventually, the smell of coffee fills the kitchen, and the warmth from the wood stove slowly works its way through thecabin. And the glow from the fire highlights the many unfinished projects that Dad keeps bugging me about. He wanted me to keep living in the house with him until we could do more work on the cabin, but I like it as it is. I don’t care about fancy trim and painted walls. This cabin has always been here, nestled in the woods just behind the farm and my grandparents’ house on the property, and nothing has been done with it for as long as I can remember. But I put in more insulation and replaced a couple windows, and it’s all I need.
By the time the coffee’s ready, I’m dressed in my jeans, hoodie, and hat, and the sky is beginning to brighten. I pour my coffee into my travel mug and step outside into the crisp morning air.
My boots crunch softly in the gravel as I head down the long driveway towards the farm, and I pull in a deep breath. It’s so quiet and still out here this early, it feels like I’m the only one awake. The sun is just starting to rise over the treeline across the field, with a faint, soft glow along the horizon. It won’t be long now until my walk to work is lit by the hazy orange glow of the summer sunrises, and I’m looking forward to it.
The farm and Dad’s house come into view across the field, with soft lights glowing against the early dawn, and farther up the driveway, my grandparents’ house is lit as well.
As I approach, the front door opens, and Mama steps out onto the porch in her housecoat and slippers.
“Morning, honey,” she says as I stop at the bottom of the stairs.
“Morning,” I reply. And before I can say anything else, she holds up a hand.
“I do it because I love you.” Then she holds out a paper bag.
I sigh as I climb the steps and take it. “Thanks, Mama.”
She nods with a soft smile. “If I didn’t feed you, I swear you wouldn’t eat.” Then she gestures to the bag in my hand. “Fried egg sandwich and fruit.Eat it.”
“I will,” I say with a nod.
“Alright.” Papa exits the house, shrugging his jacket on. “Let’s get to it.”
I roll my eyes as he heads down the stairs. “You know you’re retired, right?”
He waves a hand and continues down the driveway. “What’s the fun in that?”
