Page 27 of Wallflower
I screw up my nose as it tickles with nostalgia. “My mom. She loved camping and the seven of us spent our summers sleeping outdoors with nothing between us and the sky. We looked for constellations together every night.”
“Oh.”
I can’t bring myself to look away from my memories or meet Violet’s gaze, so we say nothing for a long while, just admire the sky side by side.
“I think I’m tired now,” Violet whispers. “Thank you for the company.”
“You’re welcome.”
I’m ready to be alone but if Violet had wanted to stay, I’d be okay with that too.
The way she makes me feel is confusing and unexpected, so I listen as she climbs the steps and disappears inside the house, breathing easier only once I know she’s gone.
thirteen
Chord
I’ve got a goodsweat going and my heart rate’s up as I leap onto the front porch of the old bungalow. “I win.”
Finn’s feet land a half-second behind mine, and he shoves me to the side. “Fuck off. You had a head start.”
I crack the tiniest smile and bend down to give Finn’s old golden Labrador a rub behind the ears. Her name’s Dakota, she’s got to be at least ten years old, and Finn picked her up at a rescue shelter on his three-month trip across the country.
I knew the minute I saw her why he brought her home. The resemblance between this dog and the Labrador we had as kids is uncanny, and Finn had always been old Bear’s favorite.
Dakota turns her head to lick my fingers, and I give her one last scratch before setting a hand on the balustrade and catching my foot in one hand. The stretch through my quad feels good, but beating my younger brother on these morning runs feels even better.
“You’re a sore loser.”
He snorts and throws an incredulous look my way. I grin for real this time. We both know I’m the one who hates to lose, which is why I never let it happen.
“Do you think Dylan would want to join us tomorrow?” I ask. “The only thing better than kicking your ass every morning would be showing you both how it’s done.”
“Nah.” Finn sets his toes against the low line of timber and stretches out his calf. “Running isn’t really his thing.”
“And what is?”
Finn shrugs. “Izzy and the restaurant.”
I shift into a low lunge, grunting quietly at the pull in my hip flexors, and Finn bites back a shit-eating grin.
“Say it, asshole. I dare you.”
“I don’t need to, old man. Your body is saying it for me.”
I shake my head and switch legs. I know how old I am. I know I can’t play hockey forever. But Finn’s teasing hits a nerve that wasn’t there a year ago.
When I thought I’d see out my career with Calgary, I looked toward retirement with a kind of proud resignation. I was okay with walking away because I was at the top of my game. At the top ofthegame. I was prepared to start something new—maybe here at Silver Leaf, possibly with a woman I loved, in a house that I built for a family. But everything is different now. Now I’ve got too much to prove.
“How are things going with Charles?” Finn asks.
Charlesis Finn’s nickname for Charlie.
Born a year apart to the day, they were inseparable growing up. Fair-haired, brown-eyed, barrel-chested, and big-hearted Finn, and the dark-haired, blue-eyed, dirt-on-her knees big sister who always had his back. One never went anywhere without the other right up until the day he enlisted. Dylan and Daisy, born two and four years after Finn respectively, had their own bond as well. Of the five of us, I’ve always been the odd oneout. The oldest, sure, but that was never the problem. Hockey was the problem. It always came first.
“Things are…” I reach an arm over my head and push on the elbow to stretch out my tricep. “Fine.”
Finn lifts a disbelieving eyebrow. “Talk to her, bro. Sort it out. We’re all too old for this shit.”
