Winter Memories (Seasons in Montana: Winter)

CHAPTER 1

EDEN

I forgot how long this drive takes. It’s one of the reasons I haven’t been home in years and insisted my parents come to me whenever possible. In between, because they weren’t ever keen on leaving home, we got very good about video calls. I’m just glad that was an option or else I would have felt so alone in my life the last few years.

Or maybe I would have come home a few years ago when I found out just how alone I was, and everything that I was building out of obligation fell apart.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s better this way. I’m happier without faking my way through a relationship which was never worth the effort.

“Mama,” the little voice of my three-year-old, Macklin, pulls me back into the seemingly endless road trip that I’m on with him, “how much longer?”

I giggle when I glance into the mirror and see his pouting face. He’s been damn good during this trip even though I know he would rather be doing anything other than sitting in the car. And we’ve been at it for days.

A giddy feeling settles in my chest when I tell him, “I promise it’s not far now.”

“You’ve been saying the same thing forever,” he huffs.

I make a humming sound because I can’t exactly tell him he’s wrong, even though he is. I’ve told him exactly how many more hours there are to go in our trip every time he’s asked. To a three-year-old? I might as well be speaking another language.

“I know this has been a long trip, Mack,” I murmur softly. “But you’ve had fun too.” The only response I get is a growling sound filled with annoyance, and I have to suppress my laughter. He’s adorable. “If we hadn’t come on this trip, you would have missed out on the hotel pools.”

“Well,” he grumbles, “I did like the pools even though you made me wear those arm floaties.” He scrunches his face up and pouts, “I didn’t like those.”

“You know those are just for your safety, bud,” I remind him softly. We’ve had the same conversation about the floaties every night when we go to the hotel pool. I made sure to plan everything and an indoor, heated pool was a requirement for me to make a reservation. There was only so much of being trapped in a car that Mack was going to take; making the trip longer with more stops was the only way to keep us both sane. “But you’re getting better at swimming with all the practice you’ve had.”

His little chest puffs up and I get a glimpse of his smile when I look back at him in the mirror. “That’s because I’m a fish.”

“Oh? What kind of fish are you?”

I don’t have to see him to know the look of concentration his face. He might be a very normal three-year-old, but there are times when he acts like he’s thirty. When asked a question, one he feels is important, he really puts thought into the answer.

“I guess a clown fish.” I smile because he doesn’t know many different kinds of fish unless they’re animated. He sighs, “I really want to see Gramps and Gran soon.”

“We’ll see them soon, Mack,” I murmur.

The video calls haven’t been enough, and neither have their infrequent visits. I should have made more of an effort over the last few years to go home, but every time I thought about it, my heart ached, and fear gripped me. What if I saw the guy I lost? What if I found out he moved on?

“You really think I’ll like the new place we’re going?”

My heart lurches in my chest with my son’s question. It’s scary to know how much trust he’s putting in me, without even having a choice. He’s leaving behind everything he’s ever known, the only home he’s ever known. All because I know it’ll be the right thing for us.

It’s a choice he didn’t have any say in. Am I being a bad mom by ripping him away from his home, just because I want to go back to my home? I breathe through the panic that wants to bring me down.

“You’ll love Wintervale, Mack. Not only will you love the ranch, and all the animals there, but you’ll it’s not as busy there. You’ll make real friends, ones who you’ll grow up with and always be in the same school with. It might not make sense to you, but you’ll be able to put down real roots there.”

“Roots? Like a plant?”

“Exactly,” I chirp.

“Mom,” he groans, “I’m a boy, not a plant.”

I giggle softly and smile. “I know, it’s just a strange phrase. I loved growing up in Wintervale. I can’t imagine having grown up anywhere else. Not only that, but you’ll have Gran and Gramps there. You know how much they love you.”

“I haven’t seen them as much as I want,” he admits.

“That’s what I mean. You’ll be able to see them all the time. And Gramps will make you a ranch hand,” I offer.

There’s a hopeful note in his voice, “For the cows Gramps has?”

I make a sound of agreement before pointing out, “He’ll need your help. You’ll have to use all those big muscles of yours.”

“I’ll help Gramps,” excitement fills his voice. “You can count on me.”

“I know I can,” I agree.

Irrational anger fills me. This is what his dad gave up, being able to know the amazing little boy he’s become and then, later, the man he’ll grow up to be. I can’t imagine not being around for that. Then again, I’m the one here, in the car, taking him to the only place I know which felt like home.

He’s a good kid and I’m so proud to be his mom. Macklin’s focus shifts and he watches the scenery speed past us. I knew this last leg of the trip would be the hardest. For him and for me.

The fact that he hasn’t spent every day in the car crying and throwing a fit isn’t lost on me. I’d be right there with him, honestly, but it’s not very becoming for a mom to do. At least not in front of their kid. In the privacy of my own room at night, in the dark? That’s a whole other story.

My thoughts veer into that dark place, the one filled with regrets and wishes that it had all happened differently. There has only been one guy in my life who I pictured having kids with, and the one-night stand who gave me Macklin was not him.

No, it ended with the guy I thought I’d build a future with a long time ago. It wasn’t anyone’s fault either. It was all because of time and distance. I left while he stayed behind and then our lives kept pulling us in opposite directions.

Our paths were no longer side by side. I thought my dreams were more important than the future I wanted with him. He thought his obligations would hold me back.

Now, I realize we were just too young. Or maybe it was never meant to be. Even though we broke up, my heart has held him close, and my head has been keeping his memory alive all these years.

At least, that’s what I tried to tell myself while I tried to build a relationship with Macklin’s dad. I should have known a one-night stand wasn’t going to be able to turn into something more, especially when the only thing pulling us together was a baby he never wanted. He might not have wanted Macklin, but my baby became my entire world.

I’m just glad I didn’t give into David when he asked me to marry him. Marriage would have compounded the disaster that was our relationship. In the end, as much as he talked a good game of wanting to be there for me and his kid, he’s the one who put in zero effort and then left us. The only thing he left behind was a piece of paper signing away his parental rights.

Swallowing hard, I push away the anger I feel when I think about the time I wasted trying to be with David. It was doomed before it even began and all his words about being a good guy were complete bullshit. How could I forget that words are useless, and action is what matters?

The men in my life while growing up showed me what was really important. Dad always made time for Mom. It was never about money and their love was never performative. He just showed up, no matter what. Even when the ranch needed his attention, he was available for Mom and for me.

Then there’s Fletcher. My heart aches and I can’t even go down that road. Not now. Not when I’m getting closer and closer to Wintervale with every mile.

Our past is steeped in action, in love, in our plans for the future that went up in smoke. It wasn’t his fault. Even now, all these years later, I feel the burden of how it all fell apart on my shoulders.

And after everything I lost during the pursuit of my dreams, which weren’t even very big and could have been fulfilled in Wintervale from the start, I don’t have much to show for it. I have a career I’ve built from the ground up, but I didn’t need to stay in Rhode Island for it. I was just too stubborn in my pursuit of trying to force Rhode Island to become home; it never was.

The best thing to come out of my time away from Wintervale is Macklin.

I have a lot of regrets, but my little boy isn’t one of them. He’s too sweet and loves too hard. I could never regret bringing him into this world, even though how he came to be and the man who donated his sperm to the process isn’t something I feel great about.

Macklin deserves to have a better man as a father, one who loves him the way he deserves. I wish I would have seen that David was never going to be that man. I figured I owed it to my son to try. Maybe I did.

Thankfully, Mack was too young when David walked out of our lives to remember him. Still, he knows something is missing from his life. In an effort to help him socialize, I enrolled him in daycare part time. Working from home meant I could keep him with me all the time, but I didn’t think it would be the best thing for him.

Then, when he came home the first time and asked where his dad was, I rethought the whole socialization thing. It wasn’t easy to explain to my son that his dad loved him but couldn’t be with him. He didn’t understand. I didn’t understand either, honestly.

That was one of the times when I’m pretty sure I got the whole parenting thing wrong. I didn’t want to say something to make him feel unloved, because I love him more than enough for me and his dad, but I didn’t want to make a promise to him I wouldn’t be able to keep.

When I glance back in the mirror, Macklin is asleep, and I breathe a sigh of relief. If only I could sleep. The best I can hope for is a nap later when we finally get to my parents’ house.

Moving in with my parents was not what I saw myself doing at 33, but here I am on my way back to the only place which ever really made sense. When I first moved away, because I got accepted to my dream art school, I thought doors would open for me along the way and I’d find my path without any effort on my part. What a fucking idiot I was; I should have known better.

The way I started changing was subtle at first, but it was all because I wanted to fit into the new world I was in. Being from nowhere, in the middle of the country, it felt like everyone looked at me like I had no culture and no clue about what art even was. Being at an art college, it wasn’t a good thing.

The more I became someone I didn’t recognize, the more I lost touch with the future I wanted to build and the dreams I thought I was going after.

And, at the same time, the more distance there was between the only guy I’ve ever loved and me. I got caught up in everything at college and all the people I was meeting. One thing I was never tempted to do was flirt or cheat, that wasn’t who I was ever going to be, but I missed more phone calls from Fletcher than I should have. The number of excuses I made, for no fucking reason, makes my stomach clench even now.

After struggling for the last few years, being alone and feeling it deeply, going back to Wintervale means a fresh start for me. Or, maybe, it’s really about finding who I am, who I used to be, again.

I’d rather be the girl I was before college than the one I’ve become in the years since then, when it comes to raising my son. He deserves the girl who had big dreams because she was grounded and supported by people who loved her unconditionally.

“Hopefully the town hasn’t changed much,” I whisper to myself and then glance back at Macklin to make sure he’s still asleep.

Wintervale never changed much while I was growing up, but I’m sure some things have changed since I was a wide-eyed 18-year-old who left and barely looked back. I’m afraid of going back.

What if no one remembers me? What if everyone remembers me? What if Fletcher hates me? What if he’s happily married with kids? What if I don’t find the peace and sense of home I’m so damn desperate for because I want it for Macklin?

The memory of the look on Fletcher’s face when he came to visit me at the end of my junior year at RISD and nothing felt right flashes in my head. We tried so hard during his trip to reconnect and find a way back to each other. Even though we loved each other just as much, just as strongly, as we always did, something was missing.

No matter how much we tried to force it, the chasm between us felt far too vast. I wanted to ignore it. I wanted him to as well.

I should have known he wouldn’t.

When he was getting ready to leave and I was fighting tears, he cupped my face in his hands, his dark eyes boring into mine. I shook my head, not wanting him to say it even though I knew there was no avoiding it.

“It’s okay, Eden,” he whispered, “my beautiful Shooting Star.” He kissed my forehead, and I could feel my heart cracking apart. “You need to be able to shine, to show the world just how bright and full of light you are.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” I whimpered while knowing I was being selfish as hell.

“You’ll never lose me, you know that,” he sounded so sure, and I almost believed him. “But you need to be free.”

I’m not sure how long he held me while I cried before he needed to go and catch his flight. He took a part of me with him that day and I’m not sure I’ll ever get it back.

Part of me wants to hope I’ll be able to become whole again, which I haven’t truly felt since the last time Fletcher held me in his arms. Hope is terrifying in its beauty. My soul aches with how much I’ve missed him over the years.

While closing the distance to my past and my new future, I try and build walls around my heart even though I know they’ll be useless the moment I see Fletcher Burns again.