Page 212 of Ice Darling
A couple evenings later, Gordie goes on a playdate and I make dinner at Cordelia’s place. She tells me about Gwen’s pregnancy. My heart aches for her when she admits that her sister came over, excited to tell her the news, not realizing it was the very same night that she’d been rejected by Brennon.
“I told her that I wished I was just me. That I wished I wasn’t a twin,” Cordelia admits, her chin tucked to her chest as I hold her on her small, old couch. “I told her that I wish we never shared a womb. I practically wished for her death.”
I’m shaking my head in disagreement, but I don’t stop her from talking.
To my relief, Cordelia adjusts her language. “Or at least that’s what I thought.”
I hold her hand and listen keenly as she talks about Ray banning her from attending the funeral and the harassment that came after.
She never actually showed me the texts, so I ask to see them and immediately regret it. My teeth grind together when she shows me the evidence of Ray hounding her day and night and blaming her for her sister’s unfortunate passing.
That night, Cordelia lets it all out—quitting the company and “running away” from her mother without a word. The joy she found in auto mechanics and the quiet penance she felt she was paying by not letting anyone close.
I get teary-eyed when she talks about feeling like a “curse” to children and being afraid to touch them or interact with them because of her guilt over her sister’s passing in childbirth. And I feel a swell of pride when she admits that Gordie helped disprove that theory.
I watch the smile grow on her face as she talks about Gwen’s video, and then she shows it to me, and I understand why it means so much.
By the time she stops talking, shadows are creeping along her living room floor, and the streetlamps are blinking to life outside.
Cordelia claps a hand over her mouth, her eyes widening. “I can’t believe I’ve been talking for hours. Why didn’t you stop me?”
“Listening to you is like heaven to me,” I tell her honestly.
She giggles.
“What?”
“You are…”
“Amazing? Brilliant? Sexy?”
“Not normal.” She laughs. “But I like that.”
I weave our fingers together. “Thank you for trusting me with your heart. I don’t take that trust lightly.”
“Thank you for trusting me with Gordie. I don’t take it lightly either.”
My heart thumps to a rhythm that only she can create, and I bring her hand to my lips to kiss her fingers.
The contentment I feel being in Cordelia’s presence is hard to explain. It’s like everything in my world shifts into place. Like I’m right where I belong.
Every minute of every day, my mind is constantly moving. I’m frantically thinking about all the details I might have missed getting Gordie ready for a playdate or for school. I’m worrying about whether Mom is getting tired of sticking on dry land when she loves being on her cruise line. I’m bemoaning our fragmented hockey team that may be forever broken.
But with Cordelia, I’m…at ease.
“So”—she bats her eyelashes at me—“I’ve been thinking about this for a while.”
I notice her mischievous expression and brace myself.
“I believe you owe me something.”
“If you’re hungry, I can cook?—”
She tugs my hand when I move to get up. “Not food.”
“Then what?”
“Some necking.”
