Chapter 1 - Piper
ONE
Piper
Now
I stepped out of the warmth of my house and into the chill, not bothering with a coat. Outside, the air held the kind of quiet that comes only before a heavy snowfall or on a winter holiday.
Today, it was both. But Ollie was out here, and usually the word quiet wasn’t found anywhere near my nine-year-old.
Two legs dangled from the hole in the treehouse platform. “Ollie-bear?”
No answer.
The wooden ladder creaked as I climbed. The sky hung white and heavy above our heads, and the air smelled of wood smoke. It was going to snow again later. I could feel it in my chest, the way the cold seemed to press down on everything.
Yet it was a comfortable feeling. Familiar and nostalgic, making me think of hot cocoa and a roaring fire.
My head popped up through the opening in the platform, and I rested my arms on the weathered wood. “Hey, bud.”
Ollie looked at me with those big hazel eyes. “Mom, I don’t think he’s coming.”
Ugh, my heart.
Reaching over, I playfully tugged at his jacket. He’d been sitting out here for two hours, and the thing wasn’t even zipped up. Usually, Ollie would be moving too fast for me to worry about him getting cold. The kid had energy that could power half the town.
It was disconcerting to see him sitting so still.
“That means you get to come to Thanksgiving at Aunt Grace’s house with me. We’re going to eat so much. You know how delicious her gravy is. I’m going to have thirds. You’ll have to roll me out the door.”
He shrugged, no sign of a smile yet.
“Uncle Callum said he and Zandra are making a special pumpkin pie. If you’re really nice, I might be able to convince him to sneak you a slice before dinner.”
Ollie’s gaze remained downcast. “Are you sure Dad didn’t call?”
I sighed. “I’m sure, bud.” Just in case, I pulled out my phone and checked it again. “He must’ve gotten caught up with something.”
Ollie picked up a stray twig and chucked it at the platform railing. “No. He’s just an asshole.”
A stricter mother would probably scold him about language. Also, I tried to stay neutral where Danny was concerned. But the kid was right.
“Yeah. He can be at times. A grade-A asshole.”
My swearing brought out a snicker and a twinkle in Ollie’s eye.
It used to be that when Ollie was little, he assumed something life-or-death had come up to explain his dad’s absence from baseball games or school events. Either that, or he’d get sad and then bounce back with a Lego set or some cartoons on his iPad.
But Ollie was nine years old now. Old enough to understand how much things just sucked sometimes. People we love can let us down.
From the moment I’d gotten pregnant in college, I’d sworn to myself I’d be a better parent than my mom or dad ever were. And I was, even if I’d made the mistake of giving so many years to my now-ex-husband.
But in most other ways, my life had been a lucky one. Teller, Ashford, and Callum had come home safe and sound after their military service. Grace had stayed a part of my life at every stage.
She’d been the first person I told when those two blue lines appeared. The maid of honor at my wedding to Danny. The first number I called after I asked Danny for a divorce.
Since my childhood, I’d had my brother Teller and the O’Neals standing by me. And they were Ollie’s family too. I didn’t want my son to ever think he was alone in this world.
“Hey, Maisie’s going to be excited to see you,” I pointed out. “Just imagine the hijinks you two will get up to. I’ll have a head full of gray hair by the end of the night.” I lifted a lock of my blond hair. “Oh no, it’s already happening!”
Not entirely a joke. I was only thirty, but I was pretty sure I’d spied a gray hair or two in the mirror. I blamed Ollie’s father.
He rolled his eyes. “Mom…”
“Come on. You can help me finish cooking. I’m running a little behind schedule.”
“You’re always behind schedule,” he said with a laugh.
“But that’s how I fit in exercise. Running to get to things at the last second. Life lessons, Ollie. I’m giving away these nuggets of wisdom for free. You should be writing this down.”
“Love you, Mom.” Leaning over, Ollie wrapped his arms around my head and hugged me. I almost lost my balance on the ladder as I returned his hug, my throat getting tight. My sweet boy.
“I love you too, Ollie-bear.”
I climbed down and only cringed slightly when Ollie jumped five feet to the ground and ran ahead.
Inside, a playlist of mellow rock hummed from my phone. The kitchen looked like a minor explosion had hit, with most of my ingredients mid-prep to make green-bean casserole. A pot of coffee burbled, filling the room with one of my favorite scents in the universe.
Made sense, considering I owned Silver Linings Coffee on Main Street. I was a total sucker for a worn wooden table, a used paperback book, and a steaming cup of joe in a mismatched mug. My idea of heaven.
For tonight’s festivities, an insulated carafe waited on a counter nearby, which I’d borrowed from my shop. I was very particular about sourcing my beans from regional roasters, and I couldn’t possibly have my pumpkin pie tonight without a quality cup alongside it.
Coziness was my love language, and in my opinion, coffee tipped the scales toward cozy any time of day.
“Grab the wooden spoon and get ready to mix,” I said, dumping blanched green beans into the casserole dish.
Ollie poked at the skillet of sauteed mushrooms, sneaking his fingers in to snag one. But when he put it in his mouth, he made a face. “Tastes weird.”
“That’s because I added wine. We’re going fancy.” I was a canned-soup girl for this recipe, all the way, but I’d decided to dress things up this year.
“Wine?” His eyes lifted, and I recognized that mischievous glint.
“Calm down, my dude. The alcohol’s cooked out. Now hurry up. Get that stirring spoon ready.”
Once the casserole was in the oven, Ollie dashed off to grab some games to bring along for this evening.
A pile of dishes waited to be loaded into the dishwasher, but before I even touched the mess, I folded my arms on the parmesan-dusted counter and put my head on the butcher block, letting out a huge sigh.
Phew. I loved the holidays, but this time of year could be tough.
I didn’t waste time on regrets. That wasn’t my style. Life had blessed me with a wonderful son, a beloved local business, and dear friends.
But sometimes, my ex-husband… Oh, that man made me wonder.
How did my Ollie share an ounce of Danny’s DNA?
A few days ago, Danny had called and asked to spend Thanksgiving with Ollie.
Finally making an effort with our kid, or so it seemed.
Danny was supposed to pick up Ollie at noon and take him to a family-friendly hotel and hot spring for the long weekend.
I’d agreed, of course, and Ollie had been over the moon.
Should have known better than to let Ollie get his hopes up.
Yanking my phone from my back jeans pocket, I opened my messaging app and scrolled to Danny’s thread. I’d toyed with the idea of changing his contact name to “That Dick,” but then Ollie might see it. The kid made enough jokes about bodily functions as it was.
In front of my eyes, a message appeared in the thread, and I sucked in a breath.
Danny
Tell Ollie sorry. Something came up
Me
Something always comes up, right? You’re unbelievable
Don’t lecture me, P. You don’t know what’s going on
And I don’t want to know. Just want you to do better
Ollie was smart and funny and caring. Also a handful at times, and I loved that about him. I loved my son with every fiber of my being. I’d move every mountain in Hart County for him. How dare Danny not feel the same?
Whenever my brother Teller was in town, he spent quality time with Ollie. He’d built that treehouse in the front yard. Ollie had so many aunts and uncles looking out for him.
Yet the loneliness of single-momhood struck me sometimes, right at my center.
“Mom?” Ollie’s voice drifted from somewhere in the house. “I’m ready! Is it time to go?”
I pressed my palms against my eyes for just a second and then plastered on a smile. “Almost!”
By the time Ollie came back to the kitchen, I was myself again. Cheerful, capable Piper who had almost everything under control. For my kid, I could do anything.
“Can I bring my skateboard?” he begged.
“Absolutely not.”