Page 12 of Moving Forward

“Well, I just wanted to let you know the plans and stop in and see you. You’re doing okay, right?”

I roll out of bed and start to pull the sheets up, making it neat. “Yeah, great. Glad to finally be out of school.”

“Amen to that,” she agrees. “When you get out of high school, you think it’s all over. Only it’s not. You’ve got another round. And I don’t know what you thought about it, but that round lasts a lifetime.”

I give a stiff nod as I fluff the pillows. I know that to be truer than anything. The last few years have stretched out forever.

Erin waddles up beside me and places an arm around my waist and her head on my shoulder. This family took me in like I was one of their own—like they somehow knew I was here to stay. While I will never become a Miller, I will always feel like one. Ellie and Erin will always be my sisters, even without Ethan.

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Ellie’s parents are complete opposites. Her father, Tom, is a writer who spends most of his time watching the world around him, filing away material for a new novel. He rarely adds anything to a conversation unless it’s pertinent or someone asks him a direct question.

Debbie, on the other hand, is as straitlaced as they come when she’s arguing a case in the courtroom. When she isn’t, she’s as loud and as charismatic as her kids. She always has something to say and no one ever dares to ignore her.

Right now she’s telling a courtroom story from her early days. The defendant had come in drunk and confessed to the whole crime, even telling the jury that he deserved to go to jail.

“And then, he wrestled himself away from his guard and tried to do that dance where you spin on your head. The judge at the time—some old, hard woman whose name I can never remember—just waved the guard away and told him to let the fool have some fun because he’d made her day easier. Mine too! Case shut and clean!”

Everyone at the table laughs, including Tom, who muffles it. He sits at the head of the table, with Debbie at the other end. I sit between Ellie and Erin, with Conner and Danny opposite us. Danny’s been watching me closely, his eyes never wandering from my face, except to exchange a few loving glances with Ellie. Everyone else is totally absorbed in Debbie’s story. I can barely bring myself to listen, thinking about the tears in Debbie’s eyes and Tom’s heavy silence when I came down the stairs this morning. They looked at me like I was broken and like I reminded them they were broken too.

Danny meets my gaze and raises his eyebrows. I nod, hoping that will be enough for whatever mental conversation he’s trying to have with me. He sits back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest with his fork in his fist. It seems like the more time passes, the more Danny assumes the protective brother role.

Ellie glances between the two of us. She’s never seemed to mind that this is how Danny treats me. I guess it’s because she tends to do the same thing. Everyone does.

An elderly woman in a short-sleeved yellow dress walks up, her gray hair pulled back in a clip, showing off large, glinting diamond earrings. She’s beautiful for her age, with wrinkles only around her eyes and lips, like she’s spent her whole life smiling. The little nametag she wears proclaims in elaborate, cursive handwriting that she is Ruth.

“Hi there, Miller family, I’m happy to see you all this morning. I’ve been meaning to say congratulations on the baby and the wedding, Miss Erin and Miss Ellie,” she grins.

They both grin back, thanking her.

“Now what can I get you all to eat?”

Everyone gives her their order. Ruth is seasoned enough to not need notes, giving only a short nod as she mentally catalogs each order. When she gets to me, she asks, “And who are you, pretty girl?”

My cheeks heat. Ellie wraps her arm around me. “This is my maid of honor, Max. She’ll be staying with us for the month.”

“Oh? Well, Miss Max, I hope Orchard Valley treats you well,” she tells me encouragingly. She starts to walk away.

Ellie releases me and calls Ruth back. She leans forward on her hands, sitting straighter. The rest of the table watches to see what she’s up to. Oh, no. My cheeks redden even more as I glance over at Danny for help. He looks embarrassed for me. “I was just wondering. Max happened to get one of your peach pies yesterday from someone and we were wondering who it was. I was thinking it might have been Matt?”

“Oh no, dear. We haven’t made any peach pies yet. We’re going to start this afternoon,” she adds, a little more loudly for the other customers to hear. They all look up at Ruth lovingly and mention they’ll stop by later to pick a few pies up. Ruth thanks them all and turns her attention back to us. After a second, her lips turn up into an even bigger grin. Realization dawns on her face. “Wait a minute.”

Ellie claps her hands. “She knows who gave you the pie!”

“I wasn’t feeling well last night, but I think . . .” she pauses, her smile so big I’m afraid it might bring tears to her eyes, “I think Cain might’ve made one for himself.”

Ellie’s face falls, the blood draining from her face in record time. Hopefully she’s not about to pass out in the middle of the diner. Danny’s mouth drops and he glances between Ellie and me. I’m dumbstruck over how quickly Ellie changed moods. I've never known her to be speechless.

“Cain, wow,” Erin murmurs. I stare down at my plate, feeling sick, wishing I could disappear into thin air. “How is he?”

“He’s fine, thank you,” Ruth answers, unbothered by the sudden chilly atmosphere. She keeps on beaming at me as if the fact that her grandson gave me pie has somehow made the world a better place. “I imagine he’ll be even better soon.”

“I hope not,” Ellie grumbles. Her eyes meet mine. She isn’t her usual warm and cheerful self. She looks spiteful and upset. Panicked. I barely recognize her, especially when she continues, “Well, that was nice of him. Max has been in a really bad place lately. She was supposed to marry my dead twin around this time of year, after all.”

Someone gasps, which is followed by Debbie and Danny yelling, “Ellie!” Tom stands up. Everyone has some kind of reaction. Everyone except me. I just sit there trying to rein in the tears brimming in my eyes. The next thing I know, I'm up and my chair is tumbling over. Ellie whirls around, paler than before. Regret and apology have softened her expression. “I’m so sorry, Max. I didn’t—”

I stumble away, fleeing for the door. I’m mildly conscious of Ellie yelling after me and Danny telling her to calm down and let me go, but I’m too busy trying to catch my breath to care. I can’t breathe here, where everyone is looking at me with pity. I can’t breathe because a person I love has hurt me just to make a point. I can’t breathe because Ethan isn’t here with me.

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