Chapter 5 #2
Losing Gram was easily the hardest loss to date, and I genuinely don’t think I will ever fully recover from it.
I wish the tears from my eyes. They come every time I think about Gram.
I have no desire to have that conversation with my sister today.
Penelope is the oldest of the four of us and since becoming a mom she mothers us more than anyone else.
Carter and Cole are twins, which runs in the family, here’s to hoping it will skip our generation, the middle and then I'm the youngest of the four of us.
Although there are four of us, I had the closest connection with Gram.
We shared a love for baking and books and would even spend entire weekends nose down in our books together.
As an adult that connection continued, even from two hours away.
We had a standing phone call every Sunday morning to chat about the books we were reading, but in reality, it turned into Gram gossiping about the family and interrogating me about my love life.
Thankfully, she never asked questions about Noah.
“Hey, Mom,” I say as I walk through the front door into the kitchen placing everything on the table nearby.
She's covered in flour as she attempts to bake holiday cookies. And yes, an attempt is an accurate description of what she’s doing.
Mom is a nurse by trade and has never been much of a baker.
But we all love that she tries every year, especially now that the littles come up.
We decorate them all together as a family, as a newer family tradition.
“Hi, baby,” she replies, “How was your day?”
“It was good, I had a delicious peppermint mocha from the new coffee place and hunkered down to get some work done. When does Pen arrive?”
“She just called to say she's delayed…again…due to the weather and will be here tomorrow.”
Pen met her husband in college and decided to move to Georgia to get away from the cold and the snow. In reality, I think she just needed a break from all of us.
“Oh, okay,” I reply quietly, feeling disappointed. I love my sister but I only get to see her boys, a few times a year and am in dire need of some auntie time. “Noah texted me today...” I hear my voice tremble as I say this to my mom, and I’m thankful she is the only person around to hear me.
“Noah? I haven’t heard that name in ages. Is he finally home from overseas?”
“Yeah, he got home last week. He wants to get drinks tonight at Fishy’s.
I’m going to meet him around seven-thirty, so don’t count on me for dinner.
And please, please, please, do not wait for me.
” I hear the creak of the old wooden front door open but barely have enough time to turn and duck before I'm pelted in the side of the shoulder with a snowball, courtesy of Cole.
“Come on, not in the house,” Mom says as she chuckles.
Cole comes sprinting around the table to throw me into an excited hug when my phone buzzes and Noah’s name pops up on the screen with a photo of us from high school.
I really need to change that photo from his contact information, I think as I flip over the phone in hopes Cole didn't get the chance to see it. Too late, though. Cole’s eyes grow big as a sheepish grin starts to slide across his face.
I know Cole really wants Noah and me to rekindle some resemblance of a friendship so he can have his friend back.
Even though he would never actually pressure me to do so, being the protective big brother and all.
Cole declared it would no longer be okay for him and Carter to be friends with Noah after everything that happened.
Not that they even know the full extent of everything that happened.
I still haven’t told anyone the full story.
Cole reaches for my phone, knowing that I may have graduated summa cum laude in PT school but have the brain of a squirrel and will never change my passcode.
I swat his hand away and exclaim, “it’s not what you’re thinking. Do not give me that look,” and then turn to walk run, rather, out of the room.
As I get upstairs to my childhood bedroom, I look around and see how my mother really has not changed a single thing, which is weird considering I’m now twenty-eight years old, and the teal walls definitely do not fit me anymore.
Plus, I don’t live here, so I’m surprised she hasn’t changed the room into something more useful.
I hurry to read my texts before one of the boys comes barging into my room demanding answers.
Noah: “Hey I know Fishy’s is a bit from you, do you want to just park at my house and then ride together?”
Noah’s text reads as if he is standing in front of me at school planning our weekend.
I mean, he isn’t wrong, Fishy’s is pretty far from my house and he knows how much I hate driving down that way in the winter.
The road is just a maze of twists and turns along the river.
One wrong move, one small ice patch, and you’re going to be swept away to the next city.
But am I ready to be alone in a car with him?
Me: “yeah that works, thanks”
I reply before I have time to think too hard about it.
I hear a knock on my door, assuming it's either Mom or Cole because I haven’t seen Carter since getting in yesterday.
He has grown distant and kind of mysterious over the last few years.
I should probably talk to Cole about it since they at least both still live here and he would know best if something is going on that we need to address.
Cole is a volunteer firefighter for our town and responds to calls in the surrounding towns too.
He also makes a point to come to visit once a month, which I can’t tell if it's to check on my sanity or if he enjoys flirting with Caroline. But my money is on Caroline. Carter, on the other hand, has never really had any interest in anything outside of working on the cranberry farm. Which, in terms of Christmas makes him the easiest to shop for, because we just each get him new gear for wading through the cranberry crop. Now that I think more about it, I don’t think he has ever been in a real relationship.
Our family has owned the cranberry farm for generations, my dad’s great-great grandfather started it and it has stayed in the family since the start.
Our parents were high school sweethearts, which is about as small a town as it can get.
Mom is a nurse at the local hospital, which is actually like twenty miles away, so once we were all in school, she went back to work and Penelope kept us in line.
I hear another knock and since the door doesn’t crack open with the second one, I know it’s Cole. He’s made that mistake once with Penelope and we will never let him live that down.
“Cole, get in here,” I respond after the third knocking sequence starts. He opens the door, holding his hands together in front of him at his waist, which inevitably means he is apologizing for something.
He stands at the foot of my bed, where I'm leaning against the headboard. It honestly blows my mind how much Cole and I look like our mom, but Carter and Penelope look like our father. The small age gap between the boys and me means people often mistake Cole and me for twins. He remains standing there in silence in his jeans and gray crew neck hoodie. I know exactly where this going and I’m going to make him sweat it out a bit since we haven’t talked since that night I was at the bar.
“Liv, I'm so sorry that I told Noah you were coming home,” he says finally, looking up to look me in the eyes.
I want to respond with something witty and funny, but he looks genuinely sad, with big, green puppy dog eyes.
Sometimes I wonder if Cole was a dog in a past life, and not one of those big mean dogs, but a big fluffy loveable one where you just want to squeeze their face.
So I elect to be the kind sister that I am and not risk him feeling any worse.
“Cole, it’s my choice to see him. That has nothing to do with you,” I say, as reassuring as I can.
“After everything that happened in Oklahoma and you not really trying to date anyone else,” he starts to say but then stops abruptly.
I narrow my eyes on him because I’ve made a point not to talk to him about my dating life which means he must be talking to either Caroline or Mason.
I quickly weigh my options on whether that is a conversation or fight I want to have with him today and realize the answer is no.
I make a mental note to text Caroline after this conversation and question how often she’s in touch with Cole.
“I am just really sorry, Liv. I know he hurt you.”
“Yeah, but it’s not like we haven’t talked in ten years. You know we text at Christmas every year,” I reply.
“You haven’t seen him in ten years, though, and I know you seeing him tonight stems from that night,” he counters, looking at the edge of the bed, avoiding eye contact. So he was listening to my conversation with Mom.
“One: Stop listening to my conversations. Two: I'm an adult who can make decisions for herself. If I didn’t want to go, I wouldn’t. And three: I forgive you. So get that sad puppy dog look off your face and let's go help Mom with the cookies,” I reply, wanting this conversation to be over.
I'm trying not to overthink about tonight. Though there's a pit in my stomach telling me that I really want to see Noah.