Chapter 15 #2
“Say you could go back in time, what would you change?” I ask before I can stop myself.
“Good question,” Liam says, flashing me a smile. Damn, those dimples. To use Mom’s term, I’m all fuddled up again.
“Probably nothing? Sure, the breakup was messy and painful, like most breakups are when you’ve built a present—and anticipate a future—with that person.” He shrugs, tips his cup of hot chocolate back to finish the last dregs. “But if I’m being honest, everything worked out for the best.”
Immediately, I think of Austin. Of our breakup, and how, if we were still together, I wouldn’t have driven Pepper home alone, wouldn’t have had the car break down outside of town, wouldn’t have had to catch a ride with Liam, wouldn’t be sitting here having hot chocolate with him and Mary…
in any timeline. As if understanding my thoughts, Mary leans heavily against my legs while resting her head on Liam’s knee—he pets her ear, and she grunts softly.
It’s adorable, and I have to admit the pig is growing on me.
“What about you?” Liam asks, pulling me back from my thoughts.
What about me, indeed. I keep my eyes on the town square, which has started to fill up with passersby. Liam’s being so forthright and honest, I’m afraid I’ll do the same if I meet his gaze—it’s destabilizing, his openness.
“What would you like to know?” I ask.
“Maybe why you left Harmony Hills. Big-city dreams?”
“That was definitely part of it. I like the energy of emergency medicine, especially in a city like Toronto. No two shifts are ever the same. Small-town doctoring felt…” I stop, unsure how to explain it.
“Small town?”
“Ha! Yeah. When you grow up somewhere like Harmony Hills, and everyone knows your name, well, I wanted to spread my wings. Have the opportunity for a more diverse career, I guess.”
I always understood there was a fervent hope—just this side of a full-blown expectation—that after medical school, I would join the family practice. Fulfill the succession plan, taking over for Mom when my parents decided to retire.
When I chose to stay in Toronto, Amelia told me I broke my parents’ hearts.
I brushed the comment off as my little sister being melodramatic, as she was prone to be as a teenager.
By then, I was chasing the attending job, and going back to Harmony Hills seemed unlikely.
I was no longer Libby Munro, having adopted the more formal (and more professional, I believed) “Elizabeth” during med school.
I told myself I couldn’t possibly be fulfilled doing small-town medicine, and besides—Harmony Hills already had a doctor, my mom.
But only now do I consider the truth behind Amelia’s comment. That perhaps it had less to do with an on-paper succession plan and more to do with remaining a close-knit family. There’s a tightness in my chest I’m finding hard to breathe through.
“I grew up in the opposite of a small town,” Liam says.
“My mom lived here until my grandparents split up, then she moved with my grandmother to Halifax. She met my dad at university out there, and they got involved with the Global Affairs Program—sort of like a Canadian version of the Peace Corps,” he adds, when I raise a brow, unfamiliar with the program.
“Then they had me and we travelled the world.” He glances down at Mary, rubbing her head.
“I never felt settled until I went to university, and then moved here. I like that everyone knows my name. Can’t imagine living anywhere else now, and definitely not anywhere urban.
Somehow it feels like I’m part of one big family. ”
“Libby, there you are!”
Speaking of family …
It’s Amelia, and she has a determined look on her face that I recognize. I may be the older sibling, but Amelia can make me feel like she’s the more mature one. She stops in front of us. “Hey, Liam. Hi, Mary Piggins.”
“Hey, Mila,” Liam says, standing to give her a hug. “Join us for some hot chocolate?”
“I’m good, thanks. Have to get back home.” Then she turns towards me. “Our not-prone-to-worry parents sent me out here to find you. This is not a drill , Libby.”
“What did I say about the bread? The Munros gets antsy without their carbs.” I stage-whisper to Liam, so Amelia can hear me. She ignores my quip, while Liam laughs quietly.
Amelia reaches down to pet Mary’s head but keeps her eyes on us. “Sorry to interrupt, but Mom said I needed to make sure you weren’t passed out in a snowbank.”
“Passed out in a snowbank?” Liam asks. “Sounds like there’s a story here?”
“Munro melodrama, that’s the story,” I reply, with a semi-nervous laugh.
Amelia frowns, points to my cup. “Are you drinking hot chocolate? You must be feeling better.”
“You’re sick?” Liam turns towards me with an air of concern, which is sweet because I am a virtual stranger, and yet he obviously cares. He’s probably like this with everyone. He’s that type, I’m starting to see—bighearted and empathetic, noticing the little details.
“I am feeling better, which I already told you this morning,” I reply to Amelia, before adding for Liam’s benefit, “Apparently, I have food poisoning. Or had. I’m completely fine.”
“Fine? You upchucked all over your bed at two in the morning, Libby,” Amelia says.
“Yikes,” Liam adds, and I can’t look his way. This is not the sort of detail I would like Liam, with his incredible dimples and kind heart, to know.
“Thank you, dear sister, for that graphic and unnecessary update.” I hook my arm through hers. “She’s exaggerating, Liam.”
He’s obviously entertained by the back-and-forth between siblings, his smile intact.
“I assure you I am not,” Amelia retorts. It’s like we’re kids again, and I resist the urge to have the last word.
“ Anyway ,” I say in a singsong voice, tugging on Amelia’s arm, “we should get back before this escalates further.”
“Glad you’re feeling better,” Liam says. “Food poisoning blows .”
I smile at both his kindness and witticism, but I’m impatient to move my sister along. “Thanks again for the hot chocolate.”
“Sure hope we don’t get an instant replay,” Amelia mutters over her shoulder.
“Amelia Munro, honestly ,” I whisper, pulling her away from Liam, who smiles at me once more before turning to walk the other direction, Mary Piggins ambling along beside him.