Chapter 11
ELEVEN
I woke up early the next morning, and even though I should be exhausted, especially knowing the long day ahead, I’m not. When I roll out of bed, I notice there’s already almost an inch of snow on the grass, but it isn’t quite sticking to the driveway yet, and I send Hallie a text.
Head to my place when you’re ready—the snow’s only going to get heavier. If it gets too thick, I can clear the way to my place with the UTV
I’m not sure when she wakes up, but in case she’s an early riser, I move through my morning routine a bit quicker, brushing my teeth and getting dressed before heading to the kitchen to make coffee.
“Jesse?” Hallie’s voice calls quietly after the door clicks open and shut.
“Kitchen,” I reply in the same hushed tone from the kitchen, reaching for a mug and filling it.
“Morning,” she says, and when I look over my shoulder, I give her a soft smile that she returns.
“Morning. Want some coffee?” I tip my head toward the pot, and she nods fervently.
“Yes, please. I didn’t have any at the house. After the storm, I’m going to have to do a major restock at the store.”
I nod, having figured as much, then set a pale green mug on the counter before heading to the fridge. I hesitate for a moment, staring at the blue bottle, feeling silly, before I shake it away, grab it, and set it in front of Hallie.
“Yesterday, when I went to the store, I got that creamer you like. I wasn’t sure if you were able to grab it when you moved.”
She stares at it for a long moment before looking to me with confusion written on her face. “You got me my creamer?”
A blush burns on my cheeks before I turn away from her, reaching into the cabinet over the coffee maker for a thermal travel mug, wondering if this was possibly the weirdest, most creepy thing to do.
I didn’t think much of it yesterday, just grabbing the bottle and tossing it in my cart, but maybe I should have thought a little more about it beforehand.
“I was already at the store when I saw it, and you’ve been here most mornings anyway. Seemed to be the least I could do.”
“How did you know what kind of creamer I like?”
I shrug, trying to seem as casual and unaffected as possible.
“It’s always in Mom’s fridge, and you’re the only one who drinks it when you’re there.
” I move back to the fridge, intentionally keeping my back to Hallie, grab the half-and-half, then pour some into my mug before returning to the coffee maker.
“Are you watching me?” she asks, teasing in her words as I screw the top on my mug.
Finally, I turn back to face her, leaning against the counter with one arm crossed on my chest, the other lifting my mug to my lips. “We’re friends, right? Friends do that.”
She opens her mouth to speak, but before she can say anything, a familiar voice calls her name—my saving grace in the form of a sleepy eleven-year-old.
“Morning, Hallie!” Emma says, and Hallie turns to her, pulling her into her side. The sight of them settles somewhere in my chest, keeping me warm the entire day.
Throughout the day, I get numerous updates from Hallie and Emma on their progress as they unpack Hallie’s place, then go back to ours and make cookies.
The snow continues to fall, with it stopping long enough around dinner time to plow most of the town before it starts back up.
By the time I make it back to the farm, it’s coming down again, and I text Hallie to put Emma to bed at her normal time, since I won’t be home until late.
I offer to send my mom over to stay with Emma, but Hallie refuses, so when I get home long after nine, she’s sitting on my couch, the lights all dimmed, and watching some movie.
Exhausted, I remove my jacket and boots before shuffling toward where she is.
I’ll have to go out again tomorrow once the snow finishes for good, but the town streets are mostly cleared, with the heavy layer of salt turning the currently falling snow mostly to slush that I’ll clean up early tomorrow.
“Hey,” Hallie says, sitting up from the couch with a soft smile, her voice low. “You’re home.”
I give her a grunt of a response before collapsing onto the couch in an exhausted heap. “Yeah, sorry, that took longer than expected.”
“No worries, Emma and I watched a movie and talked. She went to bed super easy. There’s dinner on the stove, if you want it. I taught Emma how to make chili, since you had all of the essentials in the pantry and freezer.”
Relief fills me at the idea that I won’t have to figure out a meal, so without another word, I nod, then turn toward the kitchen.
“I’ll, uh, get out of your hair. Let you relax,” Hallie says as she stands.
I look over my shoulder at her and see her all casual and sweet, her hair over one shoulder, a too-large Three Kings Tree Farm sweatshirt hanging on her body, and a pair of leggings beneath it.
I know when she leaves, she’ll be slipping on those shoes that are somehow even less suited for the weather than usual.
Knowing a new fall of snow began right as I came home, I speak without thinking.
“You in a rush to get to your place? The snow started again; it should be coming down for the next bit. If you give it an hour, you’ll avoid the worst of it.
” She stares at me for a moment, and I add, “Plus, I’ve been alone, blowing for most of the day. I could use the company.”
Hallie rolls her eyes but nods, and I move to where there’s a pot on the stove and spoon some of the delicious-smelling food into a bowl before sprinkling on a hefty layer of cheese.
I grab my bowl and some water and bring them into the living room, where a movie I kind of remember her and Wren watching plays in the background as I sit before the coffee table and dig in.
When I look up, she’s standing at the entryway, arms crossed on her chest, and watching me with a hesitant look, so I pat the couch next to me.
As if that’s all she was looking for, she moves through my living room and sits beside me.
“Tell me about your day,” I say, taking a bite of food.
“My day?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.
“Emma’s day, I mean,” I clarify, realizing it sounds weird to ask about Hallie’s day. “She helped you get settled into your place?”
“Yeah, she was a big help with unpacking. I’ve still got a few things to do, but I was getting bored, so I imagined she was too.”
I sit quietly as she continues to explain the day and my daughter’s antics, and I smile as I listen, refilling my bowl once and returning with a beer for me and a hard cider I know she drinks and may have stocked up on for her.
When she seems to be done with her recounting, and I’m beyond full, I sit back with a deep sigh.
My body melts into the soft fabric, face to the ceiling, before I speak without really thinking.
“Maybe this is what I need.”
“A hot meal?” she asks with a laugh.
“A woman to come home to.” I’m not sure what makes me say it, though I assume it must be the consuming exhaustion that fills me. My eyes drift shut, and I block out the fact that it’s probably weird to say that to my little sister’s best friend.
“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you date someone,” she says, and when I open an eye, I see she isn’t looking at me aghast but more inquisitively.
I shrug. “I don’t.”
A loud laugh leaves her. “Kinda hard to find a woman to make you a hot meal to come to if you don’t date,” she says in a teasing tone, poking me in the side.
I sit up, reaching over to grab and then throw a toss pillow at her, and she lets out a laugh that fills the small space.
When her giggles fade out, and she doesn’t fill in the silence, I explain myself.
“I’m too busy. I don’t have free time for myself, much less another person.” She tips her head, reading me in a way I find uncomfortable, before shaking her head.
“No, that’s not it.”
I let out a laugh. “I’m sorry?”
She shrugs. “That’s not the reason. You might tell yourself that, and you definitely tell everyone else that, to get them off your ass, but that’s not it.”
“What…are you an expert in human psychology or something?”
She shakes her head and grins.
“No, I’d just been your sister’s best friend for almost my entire life, which means I can read her like a book.
Unfortunately for you, you and your sister not only look alike, but you act alike.
You both have very, very obvious tells.” She reaches across the space between us and smooths over a line between my eyebrows, the light touch spreading fire where it goes.
“This one, for one. And you refuse to look at someone when you’re lying to them. ”
“You pay a lot of attention to my sister, apparently.”
“I take note of the people I care a lot about. Now tell me the real reason.”
She shrugs, then reaches out and takes another deep sip of her drink. Something about her silence, her lack of pushing, has me confessing things I haven’t told my family for fear they won’t understand or that they’ll find ways to work around it when I’m not looking.
I can barely keep Emma happy enough so that the guilt doesn’t eat me alive, and that’s supposed to be something I’m inherently good at.
I can’t, in good conscience, keep another person happy, even if I’m supposed to.
Silence comes from the other side of the couch, and when I turn my head, I see her staring at me, confused.
“You know that’s not your job, right?” Hallie says quietly, finally breaking her silence. “It’s not your job to keep people happy. It’s not your responsibility.”
“In a relationship, it is,” I counter, and she shrugs. Silence looms between us, and I think she’s moving past it, but then realizes she was just trying to find the right words to reframe her thoughts.