Beautiful Notes (Fisher Creek #1)

Prologue 10 years ago, Milwaukee

Olivia

Of course it’s raining in Milwaukee as our plane lands.

I take my headphones off, to settle the anxiety of missing any landing announcements, only to be bombarded with the sound of the cold rain pinging off the metal plane.

The sound is the type that would lead you to curl up on the couch, with a fuzzy blanket, a glass of wine and a good book.

It’s not uncommon for it to rain in October here, but after yesterday, the last thing I want is more dreary sadness in my life.

My friends Mason, Carolina, and Savannah are all sitting at my house waiting for my Uber to pull up. I haven’t even told them the extent of what happened, just that I was getting on a flight and coming back to Milwaukee. Two days early.

Mason: I got chocolate ice cream.

Savannah: I got us some extra wine & gin for you.

Caroline: cart is full of rope, duct tape, and a human-size garbage bag.

Our group chat continues to ping as I climb into my Uber for the long ride home back to the house.

I keep my head down, hood up, to hide my tear streaked, puffy eyes.

I just want to sit in silence. Looking out the window, mentally prepare for the tsunami of tears and emotions about to hit when I walk in that front door.

My friends are the most kind-hearted, loving, have-your-back type of friends. Which means I will be bombarded with hugs, and I will definitely cry. It's going to be a messy, ugly cry. Almost like the rain drops racing down the car window.

In early October, Milwaukee is generally sixty degrees, with a healthy mix of sun and rain, except today. Today, it’s barely fifty degrees and raining, and I would like nothing more than to disappear into my bed forever.

My phone starts vibrating with a call and I pull it out of my pocket to see who it is.

Noah’s name rolls across my phone and a photo of the two of us from high school graduation fills the entire screen.

Oh, fuck no. I immediately hit reject on the call.

There is not a chance in hell I'm answering that.

I would rather be thrown off the ski mountain and crash through the trees before I talk to him again.

Noah: Ollie, answer the phone

If I wasn’t in the Uber, I would likely throw my phone into my bedroom and pretend it’s lost. My phone starts ringing. Noah. Again.

Deny.

Noah: Ollie, please.

The Uber rounds the corner to my house, and I can see my friends standing in the big picture window that overlooks my living room waiting for my arrival.

I don’t know how I got so fortunate to have these amazing people ready to go to war for me without even knowing the situation, but I also know I’m not getting out of this conversation easily after coming home two days early from the trip that was supposed to change my entire life.

I’ve completed the first half of my first semester as a freshman at Marquette, where I met the three amazing friends, all standing in my living room, waiting for me to get home.

We are planning to move in together in the fall when our respective leases are up and I truly am so lucky to have them.

Milwaukee is my new home, I try to tell myself, only half convinced I’ll be able to make a forever life for myself here.

Anything is better than being back home in the middle of nowhere, going back to a life where our families are close and I have to relive this pain everyday. Plus what am I going to tell our families? He has the luxury of not going home ever and I have to be the one to tell them everything.

Especially Cole. Oh god...Cole. What am I going to tell him? I shake my head trying to remove the thought and the feeling of panic the thought stirs up. That is a problem for another day.

My life might be falling apart now, but it won’t be forever because Milwaukee is where I want to be. Not Noah’s arms.

Or at least I’m going to keep telling myself that until it becomes my reality.

I don’t even make it up the seven brick steps into my townhouse before the silent tears start streaming.

I only make it another four steps through the front door before I am tackled by Gus, golden fur flying all over my face as his paws sit on my shoulders and he starts licking my face, salty tears and all.

I round the corner of the hallway into the open living room to everyone staring at the doorway waiting for me. All it takes is one look at them, the sadness and sympathy written across their faces, for me to break down all over again.

“Oh, honey,” Caroline says as she wraps her arms around me. I bury my face into her shoulder as Savannah comes over rubbing my back and pulling my rain drenched hair out of my face and mouth.

I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder and they gesture to the couch already equipped with every throw pillow in the house and my favorite green blanket ready for me. They not only came to my house, but set everything up to optimize my comfort without even knowing what happened. How did I get so lucky?

I see Mason walking back into the living room from the kitchen carrying a small wooden tray with three different cups on it.

He gently sets it on the coffee table in front of me, moving at a snail's pace to avoid spilling anything.

I realize there are three different cups with three different beverages in it, a bright yellow mug with tea, a small square glass with a clear liquid and a lime on the side, and a stemless wine glass with a hefty pour of white wine.

“I didn’t know what you’d want, so I brought you all three,” he says, placing a hand on my shoulder before sitting on the other side of Savannah next to me.

“Thank you,” I reply with a soft smile and a sniffle as I pick up the clear drink discovering it’s gin and downing half of it before I begin telling them about Oklahoma. At least as much as I’m willing to share.

???

I don’t remember when I retrieved the letter, the last letter that Noah wrote to me while in basic training.

I don’t remember what prompted Caroline and Mason to antagonize me to throw it away, rip it up, burn it, and cleanse it from my life.

But I did grab the box of letters, I did grab the last one, and I did rip it into shreds.

Maybe it was the wine, maybe it was twelve missed calls and text messages from Noah before Caroline hid my phone, or maybe it was the wave of emotions, the anger, the sadness, or even the confusion.