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“It's kind of hard to do that when you’re screaming through the front door.”
She exhaled, then calmly turned back to Tess. “I will tell you everything,” she explained. “But we’re going to pour a cup of coffee and sit on the patio and act like adults.”
“Oh, so you run away like a child and get to come back and decide you’re an adult now?!”
“Please, Tess,” Alana pleaded. “Let me at least try to be.”
Tess huffed, then pushed her curls back again. “Do you have creamer?”
“You know there’s always a bottle of hazelnut in the fridge for you.”
Tess’s eyes narrowed. “Fine.”
Before long, the two of them were sitting on the rocking chairs, mugs in hand. Tess’s coffee was a creamy beige, more hazelnut creamer than coffee. Alana’s coffee was dark as night.
Tess raised a hand with a flourish, gesturing for Alana to start talking.
Alana traced a finger along the zig-zag pattern on the mug. It was her mother’s favorite. She’d been too distracted trying to keep Tess calm to notice which mug she picked. She would have never touched it otherwise, but holding it in her palms…It brought her the comfort she needed. The strength too.
The two of them silently curled their knees, tucking themselves into the chairs, assuming their usual positions. They’d spent years out here, talking until wee hours of the morning, laughing themselves sick until someone inside told them to stop cackling like hyenas and go to bed. Usually it was Freya.
“I know it doesn’t make sense why I up and left,” she began. “I didn’t quite understand it myself at the time. All I knew was I needed to get out. I had this burning urge to flee, and I went with it.” She licked her lips. “It was reckless, I know that. But I needed time. I kept telling myself I needed to figure out who I was. But these three years only have made me feel more lost.” She sipped her coffee slowly, then balanced her mug on her knee. “Turns out, you can’t outrun your grief. It will catch up to you eventually.”
“You also can’t outrun being broke,” Tess deadpanned.
Alana knocked her head back against the chair. “Yeah. That too.”
Tess sighed. “Freya told me you took Sybil’s ring.”
Frustration simmered low in her belly. “I didn’t take it. She gave it to me. That’s what happened with Chris. Mom wanted us to have it for when we got married.” She swallowed down the ache in her chest. “But there wasn’t going to be a wedding, you know that.”
“And Chris knew that?”
“I think it was an unspoken agreement.”
“You don’t think he deserved to at least make it a spoken one?”
“I get it, Tess. I’m a piece of shit.”
“I—Alana—” Tess huffed. “Look, I didn’t say that.”
“You’re implying it.”
Tess shifted her body so she was facing her. “You did some crappy things, yes. But you were also grieving and dealing with all kinds of other shit, and you made a rash decision. I don’t think I would have made a sane decision if that were me.” She looked down at her mug. “Actually, I know I wouldn’t have,” she grumbled.
“What would you have done then?”
Tess blinked up at her, her bottom lashes rimmed with silver. “I would have told my best friend to pack her bag and go with me.”
Alana shook her head. “I couldn’t do that to you. You were thriving in school and talking about helping kids work through their trauma with art. I didn’t want to be the reason you gave everything up. Not after what I did to us.”
“You could have at least given me the option.” Tess jutted her chin. “And you didn’t do anything. You know that.”
“None of this would have happened if it weren’t for me.” She worried her bottom lip with her teeth. “I shouldn’t have said anything. I should have listened to my mother.”
“Do you wish you didn’t tell me about the soil?”
Alana suppressed that familiar deep, yawning chasm in her belly that grew like a black hole ready to engulf her. It was the moment that lived in her nightmares.
