Page 13 of Pictures in Blue
Ethan fell into it faster than I expected and immediately started coming up with ideas for hiding places around town. Every Sunday, a new game starts. We have until noon to hide our flags and whoever finds the other’s flag first gets a point. If one of us doesn’t find the other’s flag by the end of the week, then the loser owes the winner a book of their choosing. Which is a prize I came up with, because Ethan is also a huge reader. He’s either at Cordie’s helping out with the guests, or he’s at Fran’s curled up in the corner with a book that’s more than likely far past his grade level.
I think he also finds comfort in the sound of the coffee shop. Sarah opened one in Seattle and he loved working around the shop with her. I think spending time at Fran’s helps him connect with his mom in his own way.
“Oh, I’m winning this week. I feel lucky,” I said, rubbing the top of Ethan’s sandy-blond head, hair sticking up.
“Wonder why,” Elias mutters and I shoot him a glare, aware he’s trying to hint at our newcomer. They act like my solitude isn’t by choice. But it very much is. I like my life. And I have my dogs. That’s all I need. They’re good snugglers.
After the scones are mostly gone and the cookies are cooled from the oven, I pour a fresh cup of coffee from the pot Mom put on and say my goodbyes. I have a flag to hide and dogs to take out. And a woman to avoid.
The universe is against me.Fully, completely, and utterly against me.
Avoiding her is apparently not in the cards for me today.
I walk into Skylar’s and there is Avery, looking at the hiking boots. I groan internally keeping my eyes fixed on the short, dark haired woman at the desk in the middle of the store. She’s wearing her usual wardrobe of jeans, black converse, and a black tank top with a black and white flannel tied around her waist.
My sister is the definition of “edgy” in her own way. When she opened the store, she decided she wanted to change her appearance to what felt “more like her,” as she put it. So she cut her long hair, shaved it at the sides, raided my closet for flannels instead of buying her own because it was more “cost friendly”—pretty sure she still pilfers from my closet when she comes over—and slowly added to her tattooed sleeve on her left arm over time to cover as much surface as possible. Her tattoos are always visible stretching from her left shoulder down to her wrist. Mountains, wildflowers, wildlife, her store’s logo. She could be a walking advertisement for Blue Grove, but it all suits her. This life suits her.
I pass the rock climbing gear and a display of some of my carvings, coming to a stop at the desk. Sky doesn’t even bother to look up from whatever outdoor magazine she’s flipping through. She knew I was going to come by. I do every Sunday.
“Save it,” she shoots my way.
“You knew I was going to show up,” I retort.
“You always do,” she sighs and turns away from me, leaning her back against the edge and pretending like she has other things to do behind the counter. She’s avoiding me. Avoiding the conversation like she always does.
Sarah’s death was hardest on her. It was hard on me too, but something about the relationship between sisters, I think makes it more difficult for her to deal with and I can’t pretend to know her pain.
“You know I don’t do family brunch. Not my thing. I say it every week and you don’t listen.”
“No,youdon’t listen,” I say, throwing her words back at her.
I’m trying as hard as I can to not let my frustration show, but she makes it difficult. I’ve been trying to get her to come back to Sunday brunch since Sarah died. Three years and still, she refuses to come.
Even if she showed up, grabbed a pastry and left, it would be better than not showing up at all. Like me, she prefers her solitude. But, at least I actually leave the house to regularly see people. If there were a loft on the second floor, Skylar would pack up everything she owns and live there.
“I know it’s hard without her there. It’s hard for all of us. But we miss you, Sky.” Last week I was stern with her, trying everything to get through to her. This week I’m pleading with her. But neither method works. She’s stubborn and refuses to see any other point of view.
“Brother, we do this every week. I don’t want to. I’m not going to. Not right now. Not anytime soon. Now, please leave my store and I’ll see you in a week. I have a customer.”
She moves around the counter and starts walking toward Avery, but I grab her arm, spinning her back toward me. “Please, Sky.”
Tears start to pool in her eyes and I know I’ve pushed her too far. I try to be gentle, as if I’m coaxing a scared fox out of its hole. Nice words, calm voice, gentle touches. But Sky scares easily. She’s tough, but she runs fast and she tends to run far. She’s been running for three years now and we’ve all let her. But enough is enough. I’ve missed my sister and I am determined to get her back. For all of us. I let her go and drop my hand with a soft pat against my thigh.
“Look, I’m sorry for pushing you. We just miss you.” Calm voice, nice words.
Her teary eyes avoid mine and she shoves her hands in her front pockets. “Hudson, I’m just—” she looks up like she’s searching the high, wooden ceiling for answers, words she doesn’t know how to speak. “I just… it’s hard,” she finally admits, shoulders deflating in defeat.
I place a hand on her shoulder. Gentle touches. “I know. It’s still hard for me too. It’s still hard for everyone that she’s not there next to Dad giving him all the answers to his crossword,” I let out a soft chuckle.
“She was such a suck up,” Sky tries to mask it, but a smile tugs at the edge of her lips.
“Oh she was the worst,” I agree and squeeze her shoulder. I pull her in for a tight hug and let her dry her eyes on my sleeve, because that’s what I do. I’m the big brother. Here to help her through her emotions while promptly ignoring all of the ones swirling in my chest. She gives one final squeeze, her arms tightening around my torso before letting go and taking a step back. Her eyes are still shining with tears, but she blinks them back and takes a deep breath.
“I’ll come around, just…time.”
I give her a small smile and let her walk away toward Avery. I start to walk to the door, but stop when Avery’s hands shift to her hair.
My breath catches watching her untie her ribbon and then gather all her hair to tie it up in a high ponytail, combating the heat from the store. Is it hot? I think Sky’s air is broken and I make a mental note to come back tomorrow when there isn’t the subject of town gossip standing in the middle of the store.
