Thoughts spin around my mind, plaguing me with uncertainty.One thing I’m certain of is that I could end up with regrets either way.If I go home with the others, I’ll always wonder what could have happened if I’d stayed.And if I stay...well, I could fall more in love with Graeme, jeopardize one of the most important relationships in my life, and then return to Canada on my own to pick up the pieces.Which is worse?
Graeme has eased back and is studying my face now.His shoulders are tense beneath my hands, and his forehead is creased.I’m not sure whether he sees my resolve weakening or if he hopes a kiss will be the deciding factor, but when he leans in, I meet his lips eagerly with mine.We cling to each other, fingers digging into hips and shoulders as if we’re clinging onto this moment.Onto what could be if I just said yes.
We’re both breathless when we pull apart.Hope lights Graeme’s beautiful blue eyes as they search my face once more.“Live in the grey area with me for a wee while longer, Abby.Let me love you until it’s time to say goodbye.”
A wave of emotion swells inside me, pushing my heart into my throat and moisture into my eyes.How could I possibly say no to an entreaty like that?And why would I want to when I don’t have to?
A giggle tickles the back of my throat and spills past my lips as I nod, unable to form words.Graeme huffs out a laugh and tightens his hold, lifting me off my feet.My thoughts are still spinning, but as Graeme brings his mouth back to mine, everything else, including any lingering uncertainty, fades away.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN ~ ABBY ~ NOW
“If fifteen-year-oldDrew and Abby could see us now...”Drew’s tone is wistful, and her smile holds a bittersweet twist.
“They wouldn’t believe their eyes,” I say.
It’s late afternoon, and we’re having a snack break in a pub in Old Town.Graeme and Brodie are spending time with their parents, and Fern is visiting a friend she met online last year, so Drew and I decided to explore the colourful shops on Victoria Street.We were lingering outside a coffee shop, breathing in the sweet scents of baked goods and warm drinks, when Drew said she had a craving for sticky toffee pudding.We were close to one of our favourite pubs—a place we discovered on our first trip to Scotland, that had incredible food, including some of the best desserts—so we headed there.
I hold up my glass of Thistly Cross cider, and Drew taps it with her smaller glass of Drambuie.The fruity flavour of the cider blends with the raspberry and honey whisky of the cranachan I ordered as my mid-afternoon treat.
“When we met in the group home, did you ever think we’d stay friends?”Drew asks.
“I didn’t let myself think about it,” I say.“I liked you immediately and wanted to be your friend, but I didn’t trust it would last.At that point, it felt like nothing ever lasted.”
When my grandma died, I was placed in emergency foster care while Children’s Aid attempted to track down my parents.The couple I was placed with had been fostering for decades, but had recently decided to retire from that life and move across the country to be closer to their grandchildren.They were happy to take me in, but we all knew it was temporary.
As a traumatized eleven-year-old, I tried my hardest not to be a burden to my foster parents.I kept my room clean and did chores around the house without being asked.I maintained my perfect attendance at school and worked hard, even though I ended up hiding in the library or bathroom each day to cry.I hoped if I was good enough, smart enough, and helpful enough, they’d grow to love me and would decide to keep me.
My already-shattered heart broke a little more the day they told me their house had sold and they would be moving without me.
There are gaps in my memory when it comes to my second foster family, but I remember the next one vividly.My foster parents were a couple in their mid-thirties who made it clear from the beginning they wanted me to consider them family.They got me into therapy and enrolled me in a photography class for teens when they learned I used to enjoy taking pictures.Despite my best efforts to keep distance between us, I grew to love Liza and Darren, although I had trouble making friends after having to change schools twice.I didn’t have the words for it then, but I was always waiting for the other shoe to drop...which it did when Darren had a massive heart attack and died.
Liza did her best to keep it together, but the grief was too much for her.She and Darren had been so in love, and she struggled to navigate life without him.I’m not sure which one of us cried harder when she told me she didn’t think she was capable of being the kind of parent I deserved anymore.I begged her to let me stay, promised to take care of her, to pick up the slack around the house, to be small and helpful andgood, but none of that penetrated her grief fog.
From there, I was sent to live in the group home.I’m not sure if I believe everything happens for a reason, but I do believe Drew was my reward for the hell I went through in the first fifteen years of my life.
“I don’t think I’ve ever told you this, but I didn’t want to be friends with you at first,” Drew says.“I had zero intention of even being nice to you, let alone befriending you.”
