Chapter 19
nineteen
COLE
Even as I pulled Bethany closer to me physically, I felt the distance grow between us emotionally. To say it bothered me would be an understatement.
“Are you okay?”
I’d asked the question more times than I could count since leaving the pet event, without a kitten I may add, and taking our seat on the sleigh ride. Well, pseudo-sleigh ride, since it was more of a ride in a pick-up truck around Evergreen Lake than an actual Santa-esque sleigh. Joy was spending time with Mrs. M again, and I told myself I should feel worse about it than I did. She was my responsibility, mine to take care of, and that didn’t happen by foisting her on someone else. Even someone who clearly adored her as much as Mrs. M did.
Except it meant I had time alone with my whiskey girl, and I couldn’t feel bad about that. I knew I didn’t have that much more time with her before she left.
You could have all the time in the world, jackass, if your head was removed from your ass.
I needed to figure out a way to shut that damn voice up, because it was doing nothing but causing me to doubt. To doubt myself, my words, my feelings, my intentions. Pretty much every damn thing.
“I’m fine.”
She said the words, even put on a smile, but she was lying. I’d come to watch her a lot over these past weeks, and right now her smile didn’t reach as far as normal. Her eyes didn’t hold the bright, sparkly green I was used to seeing when she was truly okay.
Truly happy.
I simply couldn’t believe I was responsible for putting that look there.
“Bratty kid. Can’t you see you make us even more miserable?”
Words of a parent can damage long beyond when they were spoken, even if a person cut them out of their life years ago. They may have left, but the words, the thoughts, lingered. Sometimes I thought they were etched on my soul as indelibly as the ink on my arms.
I leaned over to whisper in her ear, “You’re not. Tell me.” As the sleigh was crowded with mostly couples and a few families, this was not the place for this conversation, but my timing was never great.
“I said I’m fine.”
She’s putting up walls. Distancing herself. For once I agreed with that voice. For God’s sake, you essentially told her she’ll be out of your life soon.
Scooting back farther in our corner of the truck, I cuddled her close. Though her body was so much more rigid than I was used to. Normally she curled into me like she belonged right there against my body.
Because she does, dumbass. Open your fucking eyes.
They are open and I don’t deserve her.
I didn’t deserve Joy either, but I would never do anything to disrespect the trust Brian and Tricia put in me. What I could do was save Bethany.
“Won’t you talk to me? I get it, I’m probably not the best listener,” I carried on even though I caught her sigh of frustration, “but I want you to tell me. To trust me.” I wanted it with every part of my being even if I knew I shouldn’t. Even if I’d wind up destroying it one day.
She sighed again and I noticed her eyes get glassy. Her tears were something I didn’t think I would ever be okay with witnessing.
“I don’t know. I guess I’m thinking about my dad a lot.” I knew that wasn’t all of it, but I didn’t want to hear about how much I was hurting her, because I knew I was.
“You’ve mentioned your dad a few times. Can you tell me his story? Your story?” I wanted to know everything, know what made my whiskey girl who she was. What made her tick, what made her cry, what made her happy.
We could make her happy. Joy and me.
She nodded, but continued to face away from me, watching people stroll along the streets of town. This was what I wanted, but not this way. Not with Bethany so distant and closed off. “Not here.”
At least it was something. This wasn’t exactly private, being crammed in the back of a truck, the streets of Evergreen Lake full of locals and tourists enjoying the last few days before the holiday. The truck came to a stop and waited for some passengers to disembark.
“Do you want to get off?”
She shook her head. “I’d like to finish the ride. It’s just another memory to add to my collection.”
I nodded in response. “Whatever you want.”
Whatever? Really? What if what she wants is forever? That I couldn’t give her, but what she wanted in the here and now I was happy to provide.
As the ride continued, she softened, melting into me a little more with every passing minute. It wasn’t like normal, what I’d come to cherish and anticipate, but it was more than I hoped for considering how the day and the ride had been going. We sat in silence as the glow of the Christmas lights washed over her face, bathing her in the warmest of light. When a few flurries started to fall, they caught on her eyelashes and glistened for a second on the pink hat she wore pulled down over her ears. I never took my eyes off her, trying to sear every memory, every image, into my brain for when she finally left Evergreen Lake. Left me.
“Snowflake,” I whispered before I brushed my lips over her eyes.
When she curled her arm around my waist and finally seemed to relax into me, I felt like the luckiest man in the world.
And also a man who couldn’t hold what I had in my arms forever.
Finally making our way back to the start of the ride, I held out my hand to help Bethany step down from the bed of the truck. Without conscious thought I picked her up, before lightly placing her on the ground, but I didn’t step away. Our bodies close, somehow the world around us faded once again. Looking down, her eyes glistened with unshed tears and the moisture of flakes clinging to her lashes. I wiped them away this time, gently cupping her face in my hand.
“Will you tell me?” I wasn’t even sure what I was asking anymore. Tell me about her father? About her past? About her future?
If I was honest, I wanted to know everything.
“I will. Let’s go ho—back to your place though.”
She may have caught her word, but it wasn’t lost on me. Home. For the first time it actually felt like a home.
How long would that feeling last though?
In front of a flickering fire, I relished the feel of Bethany’s head in my lap. I wanted her close to me, connected to me, when she told me her story. It was what made her unique, made her the person who’d captured my attention from the first. My dick, on the other hand, didn’t understand why it had to take a back seat at the moment, considering her nearness.
“Is Joy asleep?”
Understanding it was a delay tactic, I answered, “Sound asleep.” We had picked her up from Mrs. M’s after the sleigh ride and she hadn’t uttered a peep the entire time. “I think the animals exhausted her.”
My heart eased a little at Bethany’s chuckle, but I knew pain wasn’t far away.
Minutes ticked by. “Talk to me, whiskey girl.” My words broke the near silence of the house. With only the crackling of the flames as accompaniment, I waited for her to speak.
It seemed like forever, but I gave her whatever time she needed. It was the least I could give her, even though I wanted to give so much more.
“We…my parents, me, and my sisters, used to come here all the time as a family when I was little. All of Dad’s family would meet up here and have our Christmas during the festival, so then we could spend actual Christmas at home or with Mom’s family. We’d play in the snow and go skiing and take sleigh rides like the one we went on.” Her tone turned wistful, her memories clear as she spoke. “My sisters and I would eat ourselves silly at the festival, courtesy of my dad who pretty much wanted to try everything. Mom thought we should have something other than festival food, but she was fighting a losing battle. They were the best times.”
I stroked my hand through her hair, hoping to give comfort. To let her know she could trust me with her story. At the same time, I couldn’t help but think once again how different we were in our backgrounds. While she was enjoying cookies and hot cocoa with her family here, I was pretending it was like any normal day and not hoping against hope Santa would finally remember me.
It had always been a losing battle. As a child, I had eventually lost hope, but somehow the Fates or something in the universe was seeing fit to give me that hope again. If only I could trust it.
“The last year was so much fun. Our parents finally let us cousins run around the festival without them.” She peeked up at me, a sly smile on her face. “I mean, they were there, and I don’t think they ever really lost sight of us, but we could go up to the cookie booth on our own. I had to promise to stay with my sisters or cousins, since they were older, but it felt like I was a grown up.” For a faint second the glint in her eyes returned, but quickly diminished. “One day, that’s going to be you with Joy.”
The words slammed into my chest as I realized they were true, but what hit harder were her unspoken words. I’d love to be here to see it. But she wouldn’t. She’d leave and find someone worthy of her, someone who could give her what I couldn’t while I worked and hoped to be able to give Joy at least something of what she needed.
Smiling down at her, I tried to lighten the moment. “So, do you think I’ll hover for too long or let her run wild?”
“I think you’ll be perfect.”
That organ in my chest squeezed at the confidence I heard in her words and saw in her eyes. I simply couldn’t figure out what it was about me that made her think like that.
“Thanks. We’ll see.”
“You will.”
Her word choice hit me again. You will. You. Because she wouldn’t be here.
“So what happened after that trip?”
“We didn’t find out until after everything started happening, but my dad hadn’t been feeling well for a while before that. He was a stubborn man, or at least he could be when it came to his health. He thought everything would always ‘work itself out’ and ‘be alright.’” Tears started to gather at the corner of her eyes. “I think he put on a good show that last time and all through the holidays because no one, not even mom, knew how bad he was feeling. He hid it from everyone.”
“I had a guy in my unit in the military like that. Never told anyone he was having chest pains until it was almost too late. One of the other guys noticed something wasn’t right because he’d seen it in his family and dragged this guy’s ass to the med unit. Lucky for him.”
“My dad wasn’t so lucky.” Her breath hitched, and she reached with her other hand to entwine it with mine. “My mom came home from shopping one day early in January, while Pilar, Alexis, and I were at school, and he was lying on the ground. I still remember our neighbor coming to meet us at school and telling us Mom was at the hospital with Dad.”
My heart ached for a young Bethany, probably so scared and not knowing what was happening to one of the people she loved the most in the world.
“Heart attack?”
She bobbed her head. “Major.” She pulled her knees up closer to her chest, a sign of protection, but that wouldn’t work for me.
Shifting my body, I laid behind her, pulling her into my spoon, while wrapping my arm and leg over her. I may not be able to give her forever, but I could give her this right now.
“They did all their tests and treatments, and we thought he was getting better. Until my mom got a call and he was gone. No warning. No last goodbye. No nothing.” Her body shuddered with sobs and hiccups, so I held her tighter, giving her whatever strength I had in me. “The doctors said the damage had been too great, that he’d probably been having mini-attacks for weeks if not longer. They said it was peaceful, but it wasn’t peaceful for us.”
Her tears destroyed me. I had no idea what to do. No idea what it meant to lose a parent I loved. My own had killed any feelings I had for them long ago and after my childhood, I didn’t feel bad about it at all. I closed myself off after that. Brian and Tricia had been the only people to ever get through that wall I’d erected.
Then Joy.
Now Bethany.
A wall I had to reinforce, because I couldn’t be what she needed. I didn’t know how to love in return.
“We never came back to Evergreen Lake after that.” My silence let her continue, pouring out words I’m not sure she’d ever said. “My mom hated it for a while believing Dad had pushed how he was feeling to the back so we could have fun, which he probably did. I think she may have even hated him for a bit since he didn’t tell her, didn’t trust her enough, she said.”
“How come Mrs. M moved here then? Didn’t she feel the same?”
The fire popped, its pleasant heat warming us.
“She said it made her feel closer to him, to the happy times. Definitely not the same for us. I couldn’t imagine how she did it. Sometimes I envied her for it, and sometimes I hated that she was able to see the good here when it was so painful for us.” She sighed, the sound seemingly coming from her soul. “Eventually, we moved and mom got re-married. Matteo and Cami lost their mom to cancer, so we all felt this connection. I think we never came back here, even after so much time had passed, because this was our special place with Dad. We created our own memories as a new family.”
“I’m sure your aunt missed you. It’s evident how much she adores you.”
Bethany yawned before answering, “And I adore her. She visited us, but I could never bring myself to accept her invitation here. None of my sisters could either. When I was little, I would sit with Aunt Nadine every chance I got and let her tell me about flowers and plants. After she moved here, she’d talk about the shop and I wanted so bad to see it, but the idea of returning here always stopped me.”
It was a feeling I could sort of understand, but likely for very different reasons. Never once did I feel the desire to return to the place I grew up. The bad memories meant I would never go there again. For Bethany, the good memories held her back.
Her next words gripped me by the throat. “I couldn’t. I saw my dad every time I would think of this place. Being back here now, I still see him, but it feels different than I thought it would. If feels like one of his hugs.”
Would she come back to Evergreen Lake in the future? Would the memories of us be good or bad? Would they keep her away from returning? Questions I wanted to ask but feared the answers to.
I didn’t think I feared anything. Surviving what I had growing up, I told myself I could deal with anything.
I was beginning to think that may not be true.