Chapter 24
NASH
The morning after the accidental cuddle has been tense. Whatever headway I thought I was making with Sadie was all erased the second we slept together, and all we did was sleep. I would never dream of doing anything more under our current circumstances—I didn’t even dream of cuddling . But when you’ve been married for three years and fall asleep on a bed, it just naturally happens.
I wish it didn’t, based on the silent treatment she’s been giving me.
It hasn’t been complete silence. In a lot of ways, Sadie’s like a toddler, needing help packing and finding the suitcases, not knowing where her passport is, or even thinking about needing identification to fly.
Helping her isn’t annoying. I want to help. I meant what I said about loving her through everything life brings. It’s just hard. I never counted on Sadie not remembering me. It’s a level of tragedy most hearts aren’t prepared for.
I know I wasn’t.
Sadie slept most of the short flight to Syracuse, which I was happy about. Going home for the first time in three years will be mentally exhausting for her tonight.
Annie waited for us at the curb when we exited the airport. Sadie’s face lit up for the first time today when she saw her. I sat in the back of the car as the two of them chatted and pointed out landmarks that had changed from what Sadie remembered.
Snow already covers the ground of her small hometown. Annie drives us down Genesee Street, showing off the Christmas decorations, giant wreaths, holiday garlands, and lights that adorn the quaint shops.
“I was thinking about the Dickens Christmas Festival the other day,” Sadie says as she cranes to see out the window. She glances over her shoulder, filling me in. “Skaneateles does this thing every Christmas where they bring Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol to life through street performances and carolers. It’s a huge deal here.”
“I think it’s been going for thirty years or something like that,” Annie adds.
“Who are the street performers? Where do they come from?” I ask.
“There’s everything from Dickens himself to the entire cast of the story and even someone who plays Queen Victoria, since that was the time period when Charles Dickens wrote it.”
“Did you know Mom was an assistant costume director this year?” Annie’s eyes momentarily leave the road and dart to Sadie.
“She was?”
“Yeah, she did it last year too.”
“That’s weird.” Sadie glances back out the window. “She’s never cared about helping A Dickens Christmas before.”
“Now that she and Dad are empty nesters, she has a lot of extra time on her hands.”
“That makes sense.” Sadie keeps her focus on the passing town. “Where does Tate live now?”
Through the mirror, Annie’s panicked gaze shoots to me.
“Hey, is that Skaneateles Lake? I thought it would be completely frozen over by now.” I point opposite Sadie’s window, trying to distract her from her last question. I would never lie to her, but I promised her parents they could be the ones to tell her about Tate. They better do it soon, because I refuse to keep this up much longer.
“Yeah, that’s the lake we live on. Some parts probably have a thin layer of ice, but you can still take a boat out.”
Annie offers me a grateful look as I exhale a tight breath.
We turn down a beautiful road lined with tall trees, frozen over with frost. When I came to Tate’s funeral three years ago, I only went to the town church. I never saw where Sadie grew up.
The two-story white house sits right on the lake with a small boathouse off to the side. Windows wrap around the exterior, showing off the beautiful view. The Bradleys have it decorated perfectly for Christmas. White lights line the rooftop, glowing in the dimming sunlight. Two skinny Christmas trees stand on the porch, splitting the front door evenly. A giant garland with bows droops over the door, adding Christmas charm. The whole place is full of so much Christmas magic I’m surprised Sadie stayed away during the holidays. And that’s just the outside. I can already see fully decorated Christmas trees through several of the windows.
Sadie stands in front of her house, taking it all in.
I walk to her side, holding our luggage. “It’s magical.”
“My mom always goes all out for Christmas.” She sucks in a deep breath. “It’s really good to be home.”
SADIE
“Where’s Nash?” I ask my mom as I sit on my bed, letting her unpack my suitcase like I’m a ten-year-old.
“Your father took him to the boathouse to show him around.”
I twist my body, glancing out the window, but instead of seeing Nash and my dad, I see the Roeshine’s house thirty yards away. I won’t be able to avoid them this holiday season. Our families celebrate together. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t anticipating seeing Stetson again—that is, if he even wants to see me.
“I put Nash in Tate’s old room,” my mom says, cutting into my thoughts.
I spin back around, facing her. “I don’t see why we have to share the same bathroom.”
“It’s a Jack and Jill. You and Tate shared it.”
“Yeah, I know what kind of bathroom it is, but you replaced the doors with rolling barn doors that don’t lock.”
My mom fondly looks at the new addition. “Aren’t they pretty? We did that about two years ago when we cleaned out both of your rooms.”
I shoot her a flimsy glare. “Pretty doors without locks don’t help me in this situation.”
She smirks. “Are you afraid Nash will sneak in while you’re showering and see something he’s already seen before?”
“What happened to the mom leaving the hospital yesterday who was so worried about me staying with Nash?”
Her shoulders lift. “You stayed with him and came home in one piece.”
“Yeah, but I thought you hated him.”
“I don’t hate him.” She folds one of my sweaters and tucks it into a drawer. “I just don’t know him.”
“Neither do I.”
“Since you invited Nash here”— invited is a generous way of saying it— “we might as well try to get to know him a little better.”
I’m not sure I like this change in my mom. It was easier knowing I had people on my side who were one hundred percent okay if I just walked away from my life in Chicago and all the people in it. No questions asked. Who’s going to drive the getaway car now?
“I am trying to get to know him.” I scoop up one of the pillows on my twin-sized bed and hug it to my chest. “For example, I learned this weekend that Nash has no family besides one cousin he’s close with…and me .”
My mom and I share a look, neither of us saying out loud what we’re both thinking. If my memory doesn’t come back, can I really abandon this marriage if I’m the only family Nash has?
“I’ve met his cousin, Lindy. She’s very nice.”
“You have?”
“She spent a lot of time at the hospital.”
I can’t let my mind wonder about Lindy. I’m not ready for more people expecting me to remember them and then being disappointed when I don’t.
“At least Nash has one person he’s close with.” My mom uses her hip to close the top drawer. “Dinner is ready downstairs. I made potato cheese soup and even left out the broccoli just for you.”
“That sounds amazing.”
She places my suitcase on the top shelf in the closet. “And for dessert, homemade cinnamon rolls.”
I smile as she walks out of the room.
This is home. Not Chicago.
I can’t believe I ever abandoned this place.