Chapter 32 Easton
EASTON
“Let’s go around the table, and everyone has to say one thing they want to be buried with when they die.”
“What the fuck, Palmer? Where did that even come from?” My sister has the nerve to actually look put off that I’d question her question.
Death dinners are something my family has done since childhood. Sounds morbid, considering we have the death of my brother to think about. But it’s the Voss way of bringing some type of twisted humor to shitty circumstances.
Anytime someone in our family is about to travel anywhere longer than a few days, my parents host a death dinner.
Unfortunately, I didn’t give them the time or courtesy before hightailing it to Wyoming last month, and since Palmer is about to go on a girls’ trip for a week to San Francisco, it was time.
According to Mom, at least.
“Don’t tell me you’ve never thought about it,” she exclaims, and I have to physically hold myself back from embarrassing her with a snide comment.
“Nah. Can’t say I have.” I hope I look as put off as I feel. “You clearly have, though.”
Palmer smiles and flips me the middle finger. “Sure have. Bury me with my old-school country records and I’ll die a happy woman.”
That girl and her obsession with Western folk.
“There’s no way you two are adults. Children, I tell ya,” Mom sighs. “And Palmer Elizabeth, maybe save the question for after dinner.”
Palmer’s eyes expand wide in disbelief. “Mom, you’re the one who literally hosts death dinners. Emphasis on the death. And you want me to save my morbid question for dessert?”
“Okay…okay. That’s enough of the bickering. This is supposed to be a nice family dinner before Palmer leaves. Let’s take it down a notch, would you?” Pops chimes in, always the peacemaker. Until he thinks of an off-the-wall comment.
“I’m not sure a death dinner will ever be nice and peaceful, Pops,” I joke.
“Easton, honey. How’s work been? We haven’t got to talk much since you got back from your trip,” Mom asks hesitantly. I know she’s trying to tread carefully enough to protect my feelings.
She doesn’t need to. As expected, my parents saw everything before Sydney or I did. They trusted we would figure it out in time—although the day of wasn’t ideal.
“It’s going good, Mom. Busy with the snowstorms brewing, but the crew expected that. Preparing for the worst, just in case. A lot of guys have been out sick, and we had a bit of a hiccup with the new apprentice, but it’s been settled.”
Oddly enough, being home has felt one of two ways: I’m either doing well.
Working long hours, sleeping through the night, and optimistically evaluating my new life and what being on my own looks like without the grief of Ben and ties with Sydney.
Or I’m miserable. And not because of Ben or Sydney.
But because a piece of my whole chest was left in Jackson Hole Airport a month ago.
A piece that I anticipated I would miss, but not to the level of sadness I feel now. I don’t get sad over things unless they are substantially meaningful, i.e., my brother dying from cancer. Never once did I think a woman I had a fling with for two weeks would be stacked in that category.
But labeling Collie Meadows as something other than extraordinary would be a disservice to her worth. And that’s something I will never be on board with.
She was never just a fling.
But again, life doesn’t stop because I miss someone. Although her phone call the other day, confirming I’m not alone in the missing, made me feel selfishly better.
“And things with Sydney since the wedding?” Mom counters. “I met her for breakfast the other day, and she seems to be doing really well. In fact, she even mentioned owing you.”
“That sounds like Syd. But she owes me nothing. Told her that, too. She’s so fucking stubborn. I just want her to be happy.”
The moment my plane touched down in Sitka, I used the hour taxi ride back to Salt Hollow to map out everything I would say to Sydney once I saw her again.
In hindsight, two weeks is not a long time to be gone.
But when you’re anticipating an important conversation with someone, it feels like an eternity.
I didn’t even go home first, although I wasn’t sure what my condo—once our condo—would even look like.
But I knew we needed to talk again. To really talk and make sure we’re going to be okay existing in the same world together.
Did she decide to stay and live there after all?
Did she realize I’m a horrible person and trash all my things?
Or did she leave peacefully and get a place of her own?
I had to see her right away. It’s one thing to say we’re good in the heat of the moment, but when the dust finally settles, those feelings can alter drastically.
I owed it to her before making amends with anyone else.
Sydney hugging me for what felt like centuries should have been the first sign of her loyalty to me. She reiterated that there was nothing to forgive. Her exact words to me on our wedding day. All we both ever wanted for each other was to be happy and our lives to honor Ben.
I think we just never realized that being alone and not together was the best way we could do that. Friends who stay friends and look out for each other.
It’s as simple as that.
We actually got together with some old friends the night Collie called me from the bar to celebrate a birthday, and everything was great.
I still can’t believe it. I hoped for us to be amicable but never expected it to be this natural of a transition.
“I’m real proud of you two, East. I know these past two-ish years have been hard for everyone. But your mom and I knew you were never truly happy. Not how you are now, at least.”
My pops has always been able to see the things most people can’t. He reads people and is a great judge of character. “What do you mean?”
We’ve already hashed out the ramifications of the wedding day, with fewer people than I expected wanting to hear from me. Not that I owe anyone a goddamn thing.
But the friends and family I do care about…they’re the ones I saved a conversation for.
“Honey, you, your sister, and Ben—you are our entire world. And even though your brother isn’t here to be a part of this, we love him just the same.
We know our kids. I can’t explain it. It’s a feeling you’re given once you hold that baby in your arms for the first time, and it never goes away.
Whether they’re five or thirty-five. You’ll understand when you’re a parent someday,” Mom says with pure kindness.
“I thought I was doing the right thing…” I exhale.
“But I don’t think I even knew what that was.
I just knew marrying Syd would never be right.
But being in Wyoming, in the middle of nothing but peace and stillness…
it gave me a chance to grieve. To really grieve Ben’s death how I needed to.
Not how other people expected me to. A big part of that was learning how to live for myself again. ”
Mom smiles softly across the table and reaches for my hand. “And that’s all we ever wanted for you, my love. You just had to figure that out for yourself.” She excuses herself to the kitchen to grab the bread and butter, Pops bouncing in his seat, ready to grub.
“Thanks, Mom. I appreciate that,” I respond before turning toward my sister, who’s now elbow deep in her mashed potatoes. “Excited about the trip, P?”
She nods before taking a bite of her steak. “Totally. I’ve never been to California before. I’m excited for the break.”
Palmer owns a small bookstore in town. For being only twenty-eight, she works a shit ton of hours, but I’ve never seen her happier. She actually reminds me of Collie in a lot of ways.
My stubbornly independent lost girl.
Just thinking of her absence makes my chest hurt. Although we’ve kept in contact, it’s never been anything past sharing something funny that reminded us of our time together or a helpless ‘I miss you.’
But I couldn’t forget her laugh if I tried. Or the way the mini braids and flowers she wears in her hair make her look almost ethereal.
Cathartic to my ability to breathe.
We’re definitely tiptoeing around the emotional, knowing this is the best we can do.
But I won’t lie and say I wish things were different.
Yet, I’m skeptical to ask the question I’m dying to know: what happened when she got back to Timber Heights? I know she’s been looking at storefronts, but are her plans set in stone?
I’m afraid if I ask, I’ll trick myself into thinking knowing is the green light I need in order to justify what we are.
What we were.
What I know we could be.
I don’t know if it’s coming back into town and the reception I’ve received from my family and friends, but the fear I thought I’d feel about transitioning into a new chapter of my life is nonexistent.
I bought myself out of the lease to the condo. Sydney got a place of her own. I rented out a small, two-bedroom house on the riverbank. It’s less than fifteen minutes from the jobsite, and although it’s not forever, it’ll do for now.
But nothing about it feels permanent. And maybe that’s because of Collie. If I know one thing, it’s that the feeling of missing her makes me feel terribly empty. The urge to hear her voice before I so much as open my eyes in the morning is consuming.
There’s nothing holding me back from the life I want.
If anything, the only factor is me. I spent the first few weeks questioning everything about how I was feeling. I knew I couldn’t stop thinking about Collie…but I had to convince myself the thoughts weren’t just out of attraction and her being the first woman I’d been with since before Ben died.
All of it was fear and uncertainty. Because every time my blue-eyed girl danced into my thoughts, the physical intimacy we had was only an added bonus.
It’s our connection. The bond we had, even as strangers, that I find so incredibly rare.
Collie understands me in a way I hoped someone would someday.