Chapter 13 #2
“Yeah, well, who knows?” Drake reached his arm out for her. “Maybe you’ll change someday. Maybe you’ll want us to get a cabin of our own. Seems like that kind of thing runs in your blood.”
Ellie despised the phrase “runs in your blood” even more than the wallpaper.
Those words made her choices seem inevitable, as if every moment or trait was already mapped out.
What Drake said was an easy-breezy idiom for someone who got along with the people who raised him.
The quilt nibbled at her arms. Drake was never in a rush to leave his parents’ condo when they visited.
Dinners dipped toward midnight, the four of them flipping through Beth’s scrapbooks and half-watching television, Robert always sending them away with some little gift or trinket that he’d picked up in town.
How much of Ellie’s dad, exactly, did run through her blood? If they were to have kids, would Ellie also be a source of continual disappointment?
“Whatcha thinking over there?” Drake asked.
“Nothing,” Ellie said. She got up and retreated to the minuscule attached bathroom. The lights were dim when she turned them on. One of Naomi’s moth pals head-banged the fixture. By the time Ellie finished brushing her teeth, Drake was falling asleep, and she was ready, sort of, to talk.
“I just still think,” Ellie started. “I mean, it’s weird, right? This visit. He hasn’t extended us a serious invitation the whole time we’ve been together. He abandoned our family and ran off to the woods. And now, out of nowhere, he wants the company of his daughter?”
“Maybe your dad thinks you’re judging him.” Drake yawned. “For his place, his choices, Naomi. It’s different from your old life. He knows that.”
“Judge?” Ellie balked. “I don’t judge people. I don’t do that.”
“Okay,” Drake said, weighing his words. “Well, did something big ever happen between you two? Something that started all of this … weirdness?”
“There was one big thing, yeah,” Ellie told him. “But there were also a lot of little things.”
Drake kissed her forehead. The bed retaliated with a loud squeak when she scooted to the edge of it and sat back down. “I’m exhausted,” he said. “You tired?”
Ellie wasn’t tired. The idea of staying in the guest room became unbearable. Each time she tried to get comfortable, the springs of the mattress sank their claws deeper. So, she zipped up her puffy coat, collected some musty blankets, and retreated to the front porch.
It was cold outside; she couldn’t see her own breath, but a chill tickled her back.
On so many occasions, Ben had misled her about the nature of the woods.
He made the trees and the stars seem like a lush, atmospheric adventure waiting to be peeled open.
The air had been electric that night at the abandoned mansion; being outside felt safe because they were together.
But now, she was alone, and the shadows of the trees grew taller in the dark.
Every rustle put Ellie on edge. She wouldn’t be able to sleep anywhere here, which was confirmed when the rustling became louder.
Ellie startled, stood, and moved to the edge of the porch.
Normally, she ran from pending danger, but her curiosity got the best of her.
Cocooned inside a blanket, she moved down the first step, onto the second, and then the animal behind the sound showed itself.
A rabbit with black eyes lit by a low moon sat at the edge of the porch.
Its eyes seemed to widen at the sight of her, but the creature settled in place when Ellie paused her steps.
She was never sure what she was supposed to do around animals other than dogs.
“Hello,” she said with a wave. “How is your night going, friend?”
The rabbit stayed still. She wondered if it was here on neutral terms or to search for its fallen companion. Her stance turned to a crouch out of curiosity, but as soon as she lowered herself, the rabbit was gone, darting back to whatever mysterious place it came from.
Ellie returned to the porch chair. Then, after a few minutes of rocking and yawning, sleep took over.
“Funny finding you here,” Drake said the next morning, stretching his arms over his head.
Nancy was at his side. “It’s beautiful out.
” He was right, in a factual sense. The air was crisp, the sunrise had crested the backs of the rolling green mountains, and mist covered a walkway of leaves leading to the cabin.
Drake wore a matching beanie and sweatsuit that somehow looked incredibly put together.
He took a sip of his steaming coffee. “Can’t believe you’re up before me,” he told her.
Ellie started to explain that she’d dozed off outside but paused. The admission wasn’t worth all the questions that would follow. “Who’s ready for breakfast?” William asked, poking his head out the door. “Naomi’s cooking.”
“I’ll go help,” Drake offered. “I’m good with pancakes and stuff.”
It was an excuse to leave them alone. He wasn’t good with pancakes and stuff.
William took the seat next to Ellie and stared off into the trees.
The surroundings were less menacing by day.
Some of the branches even looked like they were holding hands.
“About your question last night,” he said.
“Why I asked you here.” Ellie turned to face him.
Whatever this was, addressing the issue, was another unexpected change in her dad.
“I invited you because I wanted to see you,” he said.
“There wasn’t some ulterior motive. I want us to get together more often. Just, keep in touch.”
“You’re the one who left,” Ellie said. Her rocking chair started to groan.
“You left and you make it sound like … I should be making the effort. Dropping by for cookies without an invitation.” William rested his hands over his eyes to block out the rising sun.
He looked older than he had last night. It was uncanny to see this version of him stacked up against the one who had made brief cameos in the movies. Actually, outside of the Babies ticket,
Ellie hadn’t seen her dad on-screen at all.
“I think about that fight sometimes,” he said. “Back when we all visited Ben in your twenties. I shouldn’t have chosen that moment to press on things.” Before Ellie could respond, he stood up to check on the breakfast, shape-shifting from an empathetic, caring person back into his unfeeling self.
“Get a phone,” Ellie insisted. “This whole pen pal thing isn’t working for me.”
Her dad turned back to her through the open door. “I thought you were a writer.”
“Yeah, well, not all of us can be as prolific as Stephen King.”
“Right.” He nodded. “You know, I’d like to read his take on Finn’s Bar.”
Before Ellie could ask her dad what he meant, Drake called them into breakfast. Naomi didn’t keep pancake supplies or real eggs, so they were served some kind of fake egg product with frozen blueberries from a friend’s garden that now had freezer burn.
“We only have a few hours until cake tasting,” Drake said after they ate.
“We should hit the road. But thank you so much for hosting us. It’s been great to hang out with you two.
” When he stood, Nancy jumped down from the couch.
Ellie followed, even though a part of her wanted to stay.
When she rose, she was eye to eye with something on the top of her father’s bookshelves.
In a sea of horror books, crime novels, and a mismatched collection on medicinal plants, there was one book that was entirely out of place.
Her book.
She opened the pages while Drake gathered his things. They were dog-eared and underlined with notations throughout the text. Brilliant , one of them said, in the piece called “Yellow Dress.” Made me laugh , said another, about halfway into the book.
Ellie was quick to point fingers at her dad for the disintegration of their relationship.
Yet here he was, reading her book to the point of wear.
He had never been good with words, but he was working on it.
Meanwhile, Ellie herself had done little to reconnect with her family after everything that happened.
Everything that happened. She couldn’t help but wonder if there were missing pieces to the Marshall estrangement. How many details had she overlooked about the people she loved from a distance—failed attempts they had made to connect with her?
Ellie had a feeling she’d find out soon enough.