Chapter 24
Chapter Twenty-Four
T he numbness was back, and Estelle was mostly grateful for it. Crew had been gone an entire month now, though he texted and called almost every day, but Estelle couldn’t find any joy in their conversations. While being numb helped with the pain of her father’s passing, it also kept her from feeling anything when it came to her boyfriend.
She snorted softly as she rolled out a pad of fondant. Was he even her boyfriend any more? He’d promised to visit. They’d been in touch, but he’d never responded to her words at the hospital, and Estelle had been too chicken to bring them up again.
Life since the funeral had slowly fallen back into rhythm, but it was lacking a certain…sparkle. There was no laughter at the house, and smiles were in short supply as well.
If anyone spoke, it was in hushed tones, and the family all seemed to tiptoe around each other as if each were afraid the other would break. “And maybe they would,” Estelle murmured.
Aspen was due in about a month, and her eyes seemed constantly filled with tears at this point. But whether it was from the dealing with the funeral or from the knowledge that their child would never know the arms of his grandfather, no one knew and no one dared ask.
Maeve, who had always been quiet, rarely said a word. She walked around with dark shadows under her eyes, and her face abnormally pale. Ethan looked at her with a worried expression when he thought no one was watching.
Antony…Antony almost never came downstairs anymore. He’d gone from moodily quiet to a ghost. When his therapist forced him out of his room, Antony moved around as far away from the rest of the family as possible, as if all of them carried a communicable disease he was trying to avoid.
Without her father, nothing Estelle did was enough to keep her family together. She’d gone through depression, anger, and now the blessed numbness as she slowly came to understand just how much their lives were going to change.
How one person had so much influence was still a mystery. Life often felt small, as if most encounters with people were fleeting, and yet her father’s funeral had been so well attended, the church didn’t have enough pews and chairs for those wanting to listen.
In a small town like Seagull Cove, it seemed as if every person had come together to try and help the Harrison family, yet all the well-wishes and casseroles in the world weren’t enough to put their lives back together.
Estelle carefully rolled the fondant over the pin and draped the cake in white. Her life might be coming to a halt, but it was clear that others were moving forward. This wedding was in a couple of days, and the cake had four layers. Estelle might spend the entire night making roses if she didn’t kick herself into high gear.
The sound of the oven door banging shut caught her attention, and she turned to look over her shoulder. Aspen’s mouth was drooped at the edges, and she was waddling so heavily that it hurt to watch her.
Normally, Aspen listened to loud music and danced as she worked. Making cakes was fun, or at least had been at one point in time. Now she looked like a woman doing a job instead of pursuing a creative outlet.
Focusing back on the cake, Estelle began to smooth the sides, dusting her hands with a little powdered sugar as she went before trimming the edges. Would there ever be joy again? Would the family come out of their funk? How long were they supposed to grieve? Would others be mad if they didn’t grieve long enough? Or maybe they’d be upset if they grieved too long.
Estelle shook her head. Her thoughts were so ridiculous. Why would she care what others thought of their grieving? When Aspen’s baby came, Estelle didn’t want their father’s death to mar the event, but a month didn’t sound like enough time to truly move on.
But what is the right amount of time?
“Shoot.” Estelle bit back a word she wasn’t supposed to know as she looked down at the red oozing down her finger. She’d been so caught in her own head that she’d cut herself with the scissors instead of the fondant.
Grabbing the closest towel, she wrapped the finger and examined the cake. If there was blood anywhere, she’d have to redo the whole thing.
“Do you need stitches?”
Estelle jumped and spun. “Umm…” She turned to look at the white fondant again, finding nothing out of place, then peeled back the towel. “I’m not sure.” Dang it stung. And it was really bleeding now. The towel was starting to soak through.
Aspen glanced up as she whipped a batter. “I’ll bet you could get Micah to see if you run over to the house. Eve said he’s been closing early lately.”
Right. Estelle had forgotten they had a new doctor, well…newish. Micah had slipped into a pre-established practice and taken the single female population, small as it was, by storm. However, he’d only had eyes for Eve from the time they’d met.
A dull pulse went through Estelle’s chest, and she paused.
“Are you going to go?” Aspen snapped .
“Yeah,” Estelle murmured, her focus still on the sensation. “I guess I should.”
“Better do it then. It’s getting late.” Aspen went back to her cakes, and Estelle blew out a breath.
Estelle nodded and used one hand to put away the perishables she’d been working with. Hopefully, Micah wasn’t busy, and she could just get in and out.
As she walked to her car, she rubbed at the spot on her sternum where she’d felt the movement. It had been a while since she’d felt anything at all and it had startled her, but Aspen’s chatting had left Estelle with no time to try and understand what was going on.
The drive to Eve’s house was quick, the roads all but bare. Apparently, no tourists were out and about at the moment. Parking along the street, Estelle sighed as she looked at the soaked towel.
Did every part of her life have to stink right now?
This was going to make doing her job so much more difficult, and Estelle needed her job. It was the only thing she had right now that was helpful in getting her through the long, monotonous days.
Estelle knocked and bounced on her toes. She wasn’t anxious really, but she also wasn’t very excited about being around people, no matter how nice they were.
The door opened, and Eve’s gorgeous face filled the threshold. “Estelle! Hey!” She blinked. “What brings you here?” Eve’s voice was softer as if she’d just remembered what Estelle was going through.
Estelle held up her bloody towel. “I was hoping to catch your husband. I heard he’s been closing early, and I think I might need stitches.”
Eve’s eyes widened, and she pushed open the door. “Oh my word. Get in here! Micah got home not five minutes ago.”
Estelle cleared her throat and stepped inside while Eve hurried through the front entryway. She was feeling decidedly out of touch with reality. Eve and Micah were friends, but right now they felt like strangers .
Micah sauntered around the corner. “Eve said you had an accident?” He looked at the bloody towel. “Yep.” Micah grinned. “Come on into my office, also known as the dining room table. We’ll take care of you.”
Crew pressed send and stuffed his phone back in his pocket. He didn’t really expect an answer, at least not right away. Estelle hadn’t been very responsive to his messages in the last couple weeks.
Holding back a dramatic sigh, Crew leaned over and rested his elbows on his knees. The ocean was gorgeous this evening, and he loved how it was warmer than up in Oregon.
But during the last month, he’d lost something precious. He knew what it was, but the problem was, the more Estelle didn’t respond to him, the less he was sure that his conviction mattered.
He loved her, and she had said she loved him, but right now that love felt very…strained. Maybe she hadn’t been serious about him at all. Maybe her words had simply been because of the situation. Extreme pressure makes people say funny things.
Crew scrunched up his face and looked down at the sand covering his feet. The beach had always held answers for him before, but right now, he saw nothing. No answers, no pleasure, no desire to do anything.
Business had quickly picked up. His patients had been excited to see him, Daphne had already put him to work in helping her rearrange her classroom, but still…Crew wanted more.
He wanted the family and friends he’d left in Oregon, and he wanted the woman who didn’t appear to want him back.
His phone buzzed, and he would never admit how fast he grabbed it, hoping for a response, anything, from Estelle. He groaned when it was his brother instead.
“Hey,” Crew grumbled .
“Who took a bite out of your oatmeal this morning?” Mason demanded.
Crew rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “I’m not in the mood, Sasquatch.”
“I can tell. What’s got you so upset?”
Crew shook his head, though he knew his brother couldn’t see. “Just stuff. What can I help you with?”
“Actually…” Mason hedged. “Harper was concerned about you.”
“She was concerned about me?” Crew made a face. “Why?”
“Because she’s a woman-ow! I called him! Why are you hitting me?” Mason wasn’t talking to Crew anymore, but his voice still came through the line loud and clear. After a bit of a scuffle and Harper’s shouts from the other side, Mason came back. “She wanted to know how things with Estelle were. She’s worried about Estelle and that means she’s also worried about you, since the two of you go together.”
Crew didn’t answer right away. He wasn’t sure what to say and apparently that was enough for Harper.
“What’s going on?” Harper demanded, obviously having stolen the phone.
“The fact that you can take on Sasquatch and win worries me, Harper,” Crew offered.
Harper didn’t laugh. “Spill it, little brother. Estelle has been moving through life like the walking dead, and no one’s sure what to do about it. Did you two break up?”
Crew let out the sigh that he’d been holding back and ran a hand through his hair. “Not that I know of.”
“What does that mean?”
Dang women. Why were they so curious? “It means that we haven’t said the words ‘we’re broken up’, but she’s not responding to my messages.”
Harper’s line was quiet. “When did you last talk to her?”
“A day or so ago,” Crew admitted. “I sent her a text five minutes ago, but she doesn’t always answer right away, if she answers at all.”
“We have to do something,” Harper murmured, though it didn’t sound like the words were directed toward Crew exactly, but answered just the same.
“I won’t force her to pay attention to me,” he ground out, his frustration flaring. “If she’s not interested, she’s not interested.” Nobody had to know how much those words cost him. He’d envisioned a whole life with Estelle. Her family was his family, her friends were his friends. He’d been accepted, welcomed and brought into the core folds of Seagull Cove as if he was a long lost relative.
Not one person had questioned his sudden appearance or asked what he wanted to gain from the situation. He’d simply been part of the group…and Crew still wanted that.
But the group meant nothing if Estelle wasn’t by his side.
“I’m not asking you to force her into anything,” Harper quickly replied, her tone soothing, as if trying to calm a toddler. “I’m simply saying we need to do something. That woman is going to be lonely and old if she doesn’t snap out of it.”
Crew snarled at the same time that Mason said something in the background. “She just lost her dad, Harper,” Crew nearly shouted. “You need to give her time.”
Harper’s sigh was loud. “I’m aware, Crew.” Her tone went from placating to tired in an instant. “We’re all aware.”
Grinding his teeth a little, Crew dug his foot deeper into the sand, but it wasn’t helping. Nothing was calming him like it used to.
“I know she needs time,” Harper continued. “But she also needs you.”
“If she needed me, why wouldn’t she say so?” Crew asked. “I was there for weeks. I did everything she asked of me. I promised her I’d be by her side, and I’ve done that. What more could I do?”
The question landed in the air with all the elegance of a lead balloon. Crew hadn’t truly understood it until it had flown out of his mouth that that was his real question.
Why hadn’t his sacrifice been enough?
The cold feeling slithering down his spine was eerily reminiscent of how he’d felt as a kid when his mother was never happy with his work. His grades were never high enough, his friends were never the right ones, his choice of career hadn’t been up to standard.
Nothing was ever enough for his mother, and now it felt the same with Estelle. The thought soured in his mouth like rotten milk, and Crew found himself slowly backing away from it. He’d already been feeling the physical distance between him and Estelle, but now his heart was starting to back off. He knew how relationships like this went. He had a first row seat with his parents…and in no scenario did it ever end well.
“Like you said,” Harper responded, “she’s mourning. But despite that, I think we might need to do something.”
“No.” Crew jerked at the word. He was as surprised by his answer as Harper was, if her squeak was anything to go by.
“What do you mean no?” she demanded. “Didn’t you just say you promised you’d be there? Are you breaking that promise?”
Crew sat up straighter, feeling a strange calm settle over him. “I upheld my promise,” he said clearly. “I was there, Harper. You know that. I was there every single day. I gave and I gave, and I was happy to do it.” Crew took a deep breath. “At least I was happy to do it when I thought she felt the same about me as I do about her.” He swallowed hard, the next words feeling like glass shards. “But she doesn’t. She doesn’t feel the same, so I don’t see any reason to keep going.”
“Crew,” Harper breathed. “You can’t mean that. Estelle loves you. I’m sure of it.”
“I thought so too,” he admitted. “But if she was interested, she’d let me know. She’s had thousands of chances in the last few weeks to let me know.” Crew sighed and hung his head. “But she hasn’t,” he choked out, ignoring Harper’s sniffles. “And I’m not going to press any more.”