26. Avery
26
AVERY
I pull the comforter tight around my chest and squeeze my eyes shut tight. Ed is leaving today. He’s out there now across the road packing his belongings into his pickup, ready to ride out of town. I know this because Paige messaged me that the guys were planning to come and see him off. It seems he thought he could slip out of town with no one noticing. Typical Ed.
He’s come into Hope, raised more money for the center than anyone, helped clear the land for Joel, put up with Hudson’s frowning presence and Marcus’s goofing around, and he still thinks no one will miss him.
My heart clenches at the knowledge that he’s leaving. I swing my legs over the side of the bed and pad to the window.
I peel back the edge of the curtain and peek out.
Ed is talking with Joel a little way apart from the group. Marcus leans in the window of Joel’s pickup taking to his girls.
I’ve gotten to know the potty-mouthed kiwi, a colloquial term for a New Zealander, over the last few months. It’s comforting to know he was on Jake’s SEAL team. They must have had a laugh together.
Marcus must have been the comic relief to the serious Ed.
Another car turns onto the street, and I recognize Hudson’s SUV. Ed’s gaze turns this way, and I drop the edge of the curtain. My heart thumps wondering if he saw me. I wonder if he’s going to say goodbye or just leave. Probably just leave.
I crawl back into bed and pull the covers tight over my chest.
I just have to get through the next ten minutes, and then he’ll be gone. And I can get on with my life.
Even as I think the words, I know that won’t be easy. How do you get on with life when your heart’s breaking?
I hear his car start up, and I hold my breath. The guys are calling out their goodbyes, and Marcus is using some choice words. I’m thankful Mom and Dad went out early, or Mom’s ears would be burning.
I squeeze my eyes shut tight, willing him to turn off the engine, fling open my front door, and run up the stairs to me. To tell me he made a mistake, and he’s not leaving.
Instead, the car pulls down the street. I listen until I hear the pickup turn the corner and the engine fade away as he leaves.
A sob wracks my body, and I pull my knees to my chest in the fetal position.
I try to channel the confidence with which I spoke to Ed on the night of the auction. If he’s not willing to stay for me, then he’s not worth it. But all it brings is another sob.
I stay in bed until the slamming of car doors lets me know the guys are leaving. Their engines roar to life then fade away, leaving the street in silence.
A calm descends on me.
He’s gone. It’s done. I let the sadness wash over me for another few minutes. But I refuse to stay in bed and cry all day over a man who wouldn’t stay.
I wipe my eyes and swing my legs over the side of the bed. I pad to the window, and for the first time in days, I pull the curtains.
I keep my eyes downcast to the street. The front yard across the road looks almost the same as it did a few months ago before Ed moved in. Except the lawns aren’t as neat as when Dad was doing them. Grass grows up around the paving stones, and someone left the gate open.
Blades of grass lick at the For Sale sign, and the neighbor’s cat crouches by the trash cans.
I wonder who will buy Jake’s house. It’s perfect for a young family. Visions of me and Ed living there flit into my mind, and pain shoots through my chest.
That’s a life that will never be.
My gaze travels upward, past the second-story windows where Jake’s room was, and upwards to the attic level.
My breath catches. There are three pages from his notebook stuck to the window. My hands go to my chest as I read the words in black block letters.
You’re right. I’m a coward.
I don’t know how to stay.
But I’ll learn.
I don’t dare to breathe. My heart soars as I read the words over again.
But I don’t know when he wrote them. The notes might have been stuck there all week, and in my stubbornness I didn’t see them, so he left anyway.
The sound of a car engine has me glancing down at the street as Ed’s pickup comes around the corner.
A shaky laugh bubbles out of my chest. He didn’t leave.
Without stopping to change, I race downstairs and pull open the front door just as he pulls up outside his house.
He climbs out of the pickup as I cross the road.
We meet in the middle of the street, Ed in his tight t-shirt and jeans and me in the oversized t-shirt I slept in and bare feet.
We stare at each other and my gaze scans his face, looking for answers.
“Are you leaving?” I hate how desperate I sound, but I need to know. I need to know if he’s messing with me or if this is real.
Ed shakes his head. He opens his mouth, and his brows knit together in concentration.
His hand thumps over his heart as his mouth forms a sound, a word.
“I…” He takes a breath and contorts his mouth, working hard to form the words. The strain causes a bead of perspiration to form on his forehead. “…belong…”
He takes my hand in his and puts both our hands over my heart. “…here....”
I sag toward him in relief. “You belong here?”
He nods. And his mouth moves again. “…with…you…”
Tears spring to my eyes, but this time they’re happy tears. “You spoke.”
He grins, and his face distorts in concentration.
“I…love…you…”
Tears leak from my eyes, and Ed wipes them away with his thumb.
“I love you too.”
He smiles and pulls me toward him.
I sink against his chest, and his hand strokes the back of my head. He’s breathing deeply, and I get the feeling there’s more he wants to say, but for now this is all I need.
Ed’s staying. He’s not leaving, and he’s not running away.
I pull back. “Where did you go just now? I thought you left.”
He takes my hand and leads me to the front seat of the pickup. When he opens the door, the peace lily I gave him is on the passenger seat. It’s in a terrible state; the leaves are brown and crumpling, and the flowers have withered and died.
Next to it is a yellow bottle, and I pick it up and read the label.
“Plant food.” I look up at Ed. “You went to get plant food?”
He nods and indicates something else in the footwell.
I glance down as he pulls out a tin of paint. Two paintbrushes drop from the lid and into the footwell. He spins the tin around so I can see the front and points to the color.
“Forest green.” It’s the color I keep telling him will look good in the living room. But that doesn’t make sense. If he’s selling the house, why decorate now?
Ed sets the paint on the ground and strides over to the For Sale sign on the lawn. He grabs it with both hands and wiggles it loose. He pulls it out of the dirt and dumps it on the lawn.
“You’re not selling?”
He shakes his head and reaches for his notebook.
Jake wanted me to have the house.
I want to live here.
With you.
My heart soars, and tears spring to my eyes. “I thought you were leaving.”
He pulls out his notepad and writes something. Obviously, the strain of speaking is enough for one day. But it’s a start.
I’m never leaving you.
He rips the page out of the notebook and hands it to me.
It’s a promise, and I know what it means to Ed, to the man who’s never stayed, who doesn’t know what it means to stay.
I hold the note to my heart, and he pulls me close to him.
My gaze goes to the house, formerly my brother’s house, and I wonder if this is what he hoped would happen when he made his will the final time.
Sunlight breaks through the clouds, and I close my eyes and lean against Ed. We’ll never know what Jake intended, but he brought us together and I’ll always be thankful for that.
As sunlight warms my face, I imagine it’s Jake smiling down on us, always with us.