Page 97 of Into the Mountains
“It’s going to be okay, honey,” he says softly, drawing circles on the back of my hand with his thumb. I focus on his gentle caresses and quiet voice as I allow myself to uncork the bottle I shoved down deep so long ago. It’s shattered into a million pieces now, and I feel everything.
The day we lost Mom flickers through my head, to her funeral, to a couple weeks later when I found Dad, cold and unmoving on the floor of the living room. Dead. Ironic he died there when it was a place we are supposed to live. We were supposed to live there longer.
Coroner said heart attack.
I said broken heart.
She didn’t look at me like I was making a ridiculous claim though. She just put her hand on my shoulder after taking off the glove that was just touching my dead father and said what everyone says when someone loses a loved one: “I’m sorry for your loss.”
No one knows what else to say when a person dies. They die, they bring food, they say sorry, because they feel helpless. They can’t change what happened. They can’t wish our grief away even though they try, even if people want nothing more than to be left alone.
Alone is something I wished I was for hours after the funeral. But everyone stayed near thinking I’d shatter if I was left alone when really, I was on the brink of it with all those people around.
“We’ll get there in about ten minutes, okay?”
Eli’s voice breaks me away from the past and I am grateful for it. I’ll be thinking about that enough this weekend. “Can we make one stop before the house?”
“Anything you need.”
I tell him where I want to go and he just smiles and makes the turn. I almost tell him I changed my mind. To turn back and just go to the house, but I don’t. I have no idea how we are going to be received when we walk through the doors, but I feel a tug in my chest that I have to stop there first and if I have learned anything over the years it’s to follow the tug when I feel it.
By the time we pull up to the coffee shop, the night air is crisp and the sounds of a full restaurant carry out onto the patio.
“Do you think she’s in there?” Eli asks.
“Probably.” And she’s more than likely going to yell at me. I haven’t exactly kept up with her over the years. We talked briefly after I left and our friendship went from daily FaceTime calls to weekly phone conversations until eventually we had a texting relationship only. As time passed, texts became less frequent and when I stopped reaching out, she tried to reach out more than once and I think when she realized I wasn’t going to answer, she stopped trying. The last time I saw Andy and her family in person was at my dad’s funeral. I have no idea how they might feel about me now. I practically threw our friendship in the trash after I moved away and left them behind with my past and everything else. It wasn’t fair to them.
When we get to the propped open front door, I can see Andy standing at the coffee bar speaking with what I assume is one of the employees. She’s dressed in a flowy black skirt with nicer matching flats. Her black tank hugs her curves and the pink ends of her blonde hair fall right below her shoulders. She laughs and I panic and hide behind the other side of the door.
“What are you doing?” Eli asks.
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m hiding.”
“I can see that.”
He doesn’t say anything else, just looks down at me and allows me to hide for a moment in my space. I start wringing my hands together again, ignoring the already sensitive skin.
“I just…what if she hates me?”
He thinks on it for a moment. “She might. She might yell at you and let out years of anger or resentment she’s held toward you.”
Exactly my fear.
“But she also might not. She might hug you and tell you how much she loves you and how much she’s missed you, no hate involved.”
“You think?”
He pushes my hair back from my face and threads his fingers in between the strands. “You are extremely missable, Charlie Monroe.” He moves closer and places a kiss on my forehead. I close my eyes and lean into him, focusing on the warmth of his skin against mine and stay there until I feel ready enough to face part of my past.
Before I have a chance to go inside, though, a familiar voice fills our space and my eyes fly open.
“Charlotte?” Andy’s voice yells. Her head pops around the door, looking for me. When her eyes settle on mine, they go wide.
“I thought you were a mirage or something. I usually forget to drink water, so I figured I was just dehydrated and seeing things, but I wasn’t. Holy shit.” Andy’s eyes go to Eli. “You’re here too? Together? What the fuck.”
I try to listen for the anger I expect to hear in her voice, pick apart the years of resentment I’ve always assumed she would have toward me, but I just hear pure shock.
“It’s a really long story, Andy.”
