19. Winnifred
T hey rescheduled.
I got the call from Craig an hour ago. He insisted that I could come by their office if I had questions or needed comforting- which really solidified that Crew was right about the guy and instantly made me regret my care packages of baked goods I sent his way. Truth be told, one of the things that hurt the most was that I texted Crew immediately. And he read it, started typing, stopped, started again, and then just never answered at all. He knew even he had no chance of making this better. He knew as well as I did I wasn’t making it home for the holidays.
So, like any mature adult would do in my situation, I sank onto my very stiff couch with a fuzzy hedgehog blanket and turned on Gilmore Girls whilst slamming back an entire sleeve of Oreo’s.
Three episodes in of Lorelai disappointing her mom there was a knock at her door. I waited a while, hoping whoever it was would drop their package or flier about saving Philadelphia’s trees or whatever ‘cup of coffee a day’ fee I was morally supposed to be paying and be on their way. But a few moments later the knocking returned, this time a little more hushed and quickly followed by a deep, “Winnie, you home?”
Crew. I looked around me, black crumbs riddling my blanket and tissues strewn about.
“Uh,” I considered how quickly I could hide all of my evidence of crying but the mascara streaks going down to my cheekbones was hard evidence to merely wipe away. “Yeah. Hold on.”
I stood up, dusted off my cookie crumbs and wrapped the blanket around my shoulders before going to answer. “Hey.” I wiped at the corner of my mouth in hopes there wasn’t any leftover traces on it.
The sympathy on his face honestly cracked my heart into even more tiny pieces, till there was nothing left but dust sprinkled around it.
“Hey, sorry I know it’s a bad time, but I thought I’d check in on you.”
I didn’t even try to hide it anymore, I just opened the door wider for him and watched as he sank himself on to my one barstool against the marble countertop.
“They cancelled.”
“Yeah…”
“You said they wouldn’t.”
“Well, unfortunately, I can’t predict the future. But, I really did think they would just push through with it.”
I sighed with my shoulders slumped forward. “Do you want something to drink?”
“What do you have?” His quirked eyebrow told me he’s seen the inside of my fridge and knows well enough that there is very little beyond simple ingredients and tv dinners.
“Uh, water?”
“You know, I’m good.”
We both migrate over to my small couch, and I appreciate how he avoided any mentions of the tissues or crumbs or empty Oreo sleeves that sat around us.
“What do I do now? I mean it’s like I’ve put so much into this and I mean…is it worth even doing now? I can’t even visit home much less-” I was going to save move there but I had this feeling that I just wasn’t ready to say it yet. To admit I was leaving everything behind me. Not while Crew was sitting right there.
“What?” He leaned closer which, given the size of our seating arrangement, was only inches away from my face. “Winnie, come on, you don’t mean that.”
I heard myself sniffle. “I do. I really do.”
Crew sighed and tilted his head up to the ceiling, knee bouncing the couch cushion I was leaning against. “Hey.”
“Hey.”
“I’ve got something I want to show you.”
I looked down where my hedgehogs covered him below the belt. “Please don’t just whip it out. At least buy me dinner.”
“Little perv.” Crew stood up and reached an offering hand down to me. “Come on, do you have anything better to do?”
I eyed my TV flashing cozy reruns and my warm blanket. The door was just so far and eh…
“Ouch.”
“I didn’t answer yet.” I defended.
“You didn’t have to, I saw the hesitation.
“Okay, fine, I’m coming.”
Over thirty minutes later, Crew had me in his truck heading off the interstate and straight towards a sign reading ENTRANCE TO TYLE STATE PARK.
“What is this?”
“You know how sometimes you call me and it goes straight to voicemail and I always say I’m in a spotty area?”
“Yes, and I hate it.”
He snorted as his hand turned on the blinker to pull us into the parking lot filled with dogs on leashes and mountain bikers and kids with running shoes on. “Well, this is my spotty area.”
Crew led me through the woods, holding a blanket he had in the back of his car and an envelope sticking out of the back pocket of his jeans. Occasionally he took us off the carved path and through some rough spots where he had to hold my hand as I attempted to jump over some thorn brush.
“Almost there, just a little longer.” He pushed me to keep moving and after one more rough patch he held a branch down for me and then we were there.
As I stepped into the clearing, it struck me. The homesickness.
The trees surrounded the open space, their branches heavy with Philly’s finest autumn’s colors—burnt oranges, deep reds, and golden yellows, each leaf catching the late afternoon sunlight. A breeze stirred through the air, and I watched as a few leaves flutter down, joining the others that have scattered across the tall grass.
Just like home. Just like the fields that ran on for miles all the way to the far ends of the forest where the level ground stopped and the mountains began. Just like the view from the bakery beside the guest cottage, where you could watch people pick strawberries and blueberries, or kids running through the pumpkin patch in the fall.
The grass swayed around my legs as I moved further in. It’s cool and dry, crackling under my boot like the fallen leaves. I took a deep breath in my nose, the crisp scent of Earth and decaying leaves filling my lungs, grounding me. All was quiet, save for the rustle of the trees and the distant calls of birds.
“It’s perfect isn’t it?” Crew’s voice was low behind me, crawling up my neck as his gentle breath grazed my ear.
“It’s…” home. I thought. Everything about it screamed home.
“I know.” A single hand lifted to my wrist, his fingers trailing it lightly. “I know.”
I took a few more steps in, following Crew as he laid out his blanket and laid down. There were footsteps that looked fresh, and I wondered just how often he escaped here? I recalled his siblings always teasing his absence but if I were always needing a break, I would come here too. Where no one could find me.
“Come sit.” He patted the ground beside him and in a trance I followed suit, settling in right next to him.
“I could live here.” I whispered as we both leaned back, heads facing the clouds above with the fall breeze dancing around us.
“I wish I did.” Crew whispered right back, a confession. One just for me.
“So,” I elbowed his side. “How many of your little girlfriends have you brought here?”
“The fact that you said girlfriends, as in plural, alone is laughable.”
“Come on, I’m serious.”
Say none. Please, please, please say none.
“Only you, Winnie girl.”
My cheeks lit into a flame, surely matching the colors of the falling leaves around us, and I was so grateful that he was staring up at the sky.
“Good.” I murmured.
“Mhmm.”
We sat in silence for a while. Nothing but us and the birds and this overwhelming feeling of this is going to be fine. If we’re going to do this competition, we we’re going to do it right. And I would make it home when I could. If it was next year, fine. If it was five years, that would be alright too. Everything would be just fi-
“Look, I’m gonna cut to the chase.” Crew sat up abruptly, reaching in his back pocket with the envelope in his hand. “I need a big favor and I think you could help me.”
I sat up too, my head tilting and eyebrows lifting as I eyed the white papers. Was he…going to back out? I tried to look through the thin paper to see on the other side but nothing was revealed.
He continued as I investigated. “I was going to spend thanksgiving with my family but I started thinking…it seems kind of suspicious that I wouldn’t be going with you to visit your family. You know, considering to them you are my very serious girlfriend and all. So,” Crew opened the envelope and handed two small printed out tickets. From PHL to BHM. Tickets to… home. My home?
“I was going to ask if I could join you. For Thanksgiving. You keep talking about this Willow Creek place and I just can’t help but feel like I have to go so, you know, you would be doing me a huge, huge favor.”
My mouth fell open and shut, and open once more as I just stared between the tickets and this man…this incredible man who I spent so long trying my best to see all of the worst in. Having no idea just how amazing he was. “I-I can’t believe you did this.”
I leaned in, wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him tight to me. With us chest to chest, my eyes began to water again and I was certain my mascara was done with me for the day.
“Ahh, come on,” He gently patted my lower back until his arms snaked around me, squeezing me to him and up where I was almost in his lap. “If anything it’s to make up from all of the crap I put you through before.”
I sniffed. “I can pay you back after we win the-”
“No, it’s a gift. I meant it when I said you’d be doing me a favor by letting me join. I need to get out of the city for a while anyway, it’s too stuffy. I need a longer trip than just to here. I feel like I can’t breathe anymore. I want to visit this farm you keep talking about.”
I nodded, leaning back to look him in the eyes. Those hazel eyes that pulled me in stronger than any CUTCO knife ever did.
“My family is going to freak out when I say I’m bringing you with me.”
Crew winked. “Good, I can pay you back for what you did at my family dinner.”
“On second thought, yeah you should stay here.”
“Nah, nah, nah. I already got my cowboy hat out and ready, you can’t tell me no now.”
“You didn’t.”
“Oh, I sure did, Winnie girl.”
I profusely thanked him again and again until he all but begged me to stop and when the sun started to fall, he wrapped his hand around mine to guide me through the thick forest. We trailed off to the parking lot, tossing jokes of cowboy hats and line dances all the while he never let our fingers go until right when we had to split ways to get into the car.