28. Jacob
Jacob
The moment Viola repeated my thoughtless words back to me, I heard them the way she must have—sharp, hurtful, nothing like what I meant. I cursed myself for being a shortsighted fool.
Silence pressed between us. So I did what she wanted.
She’d asked me to stop—just stop. So I stopped.
I gave her the mercy of my silence, though it near killed me to walk away.
Every fiber in me wanted to shout at her, tell her she was wrong about me.
Wrong about how I felt. Tell her I dreaded the day she’d leave Harmony Lake.
Admit I selfishly hoped her memories would never return and she’d stay with us forever. Stay with me forever.
Instead, I walked down to the beach and hurled pebbles into the cove until Erik yelled, “Stop it, Jake. You’re scaring away the fish!”
I glanced toward Viola and was surprised to see her on her feet. She trudged back toward the house. When I moved to join her, she waved me off in a way that meant she didn’t want company, especially mine. I’d made a mess of everything. I’d given her too many reasons to walk away.
I threw myself down on the blanket to brood.
Hours later, I dragged home behind the others. Beth gloated about her catch.
My moody silence encouraged ribbing. They all thought I’d scared Viola away with my fawning and cow eyes. I deepened my scowl, which only made them chuckle.
I silently tested what to say and grew increasingly frustrated that my feelings wouldn’t translate into words.
We clattered into the kitchen. Ma raised an eyebrow at me and shooed the others out to clean the fish and bring fresh water. She held me back with a hand on my shoulder.
“Viola came home early. She offered to help with chores but looked wrung out, so I sent her upstairs to rest before dinner. Is everything all right?”
I sighed. “I’m a fool.” I didn’t elaborate.
I shuffled outside to help with the evening chores, splitting wood until my arms ached and my thoughts blurred together.
When it was time for supper, Viola didn’t come down. Jo carried up a tray and ate with her in her room.
Downstairs, our meal was subdued with too many eyes flicking between me and Viola’s empty place. Jo stayed upstairs with Viola, so there was no after-dinner reading.
I sat with Pa by the fire, waiting for bedtime, watching the fading embers.
Pa sensed my mood and, of course, had an opinion. “You know, we mortals down here on earth are expected to make many mistakes. It’s our nature.” With his good side, he reached over to pat my shoulder. “But we’re given the gumption to rise from our mistakes, learn from ’em, and move forward.”
“But Pa… what if it’s an impossible fight?”
“My boy, the only impossible fight is the one you give up on before you even start.”
Impossible.
But worth fighting for.