13. Fern
13
Fern
F ern’s workday ended with a restorative yoga class, just her and a handful of aunties stretching their muscles on the lanai as daylight faded into dusk.
The sense of community that she got from seeing the same women week after week was deeply nourishing. She had been teaching yoga for years, but her new venture on the Big Island was the first time that she had ever run her own business; before that, she had just taught classes at big studios with hundreds or even thousands of students cycling in and out. The small business that she had cultivated in Hawai‘i felt different, and it fed her soul.
After she had said goodbye to the aunties and tidied up the lanai, she climbed the stairs to Ethan’s apartment. She hadn’t seen him or Theo in over forty-eight hours, which felt very strange after weeks of spending time together every single day.
Ethan had gone to Kona the day before, and Fern had been busy with classes. He knew her schedule and often came down to visit in between classes, but she hadn’t seen him at all that day. It had been so quiet that she’d wondered if he was even home, but his truck was there in front of the house. As far as she knew, he hadn’t even left the apartment.
That wasn’t like him, and she started to worry.
Was he sick? Was Theodore alright?
She had reached for her phone several times to text him, but it felt silly to text when he was just a few yards away, so she had waited.
Now, at the top of the stairs, she opened the front door and let herself in, as she had gotten used to doing over many weeks of helping him to take care of Theo.
It was stuffy inside and very dim, with all of the curtains pulled shut. It took her a moment to spot Ethan on the couch. He sat leaning forward, with his arms braced on his legs.
Was he… crying?
“Ethan?” She spoke softly, but he still jumped in surprise.
He rose to his feet, cursing under his breath and ran an arm across his face.
“Are you okay?” she asked. It was a stupid question, but she didn’t know what else to say.
“You didn’t knock,” he snapped.
She stepped back in surprise. “No. I don’t usually.”
“Maybe you should.” The venom in his tone caught her off guard.
Fern realized that she was staring at him with her mouth hanging open. She pressed her lips together and swallowed, glancing around in search of Theo. He wasn’t in the living room or the kitchen, and there wasn’t any noise coming from the bedroom. He must be asleep, though it was a strange time of day for a nap. He’d be up past midnight at this rate.
“Is Theo sleeping?” she asked.
Ethan nodded curtly, not meeting her eyes. “The Kona trip threw off his sleep schedule.”
“Right. Should we get him up for some dinner?”
“He just fell asleep. He was exhausted.”
“Okay.” She hovered there by the door, feeling torn.
She obviously wasn’t welcome… but at the same time, she didn’t want to leave. She wanted him to know that he could lean on her when he was overwhelmed, that he could talk to her…
“Are you hungry?”
“No, I’m not hungry.” His voice was flat and unfriendly.
“Do you want to talk about whatever it is that has you so upset?”
Ethan’s eyes flashed as he turned to look at her. They were red-rimmed from crying, but there was an anger there that made her take another step back.
“What do you want me to talk about, Fern?” His voice was acid, eating away at everything they had built in the past few months, everything that had grown between them. “My dead wife?”
She took a breath and kept her voice level. “Is that what you were crying about?”
“What do you even want from me? What do you see in me? Is it just Theo? Because if you want more time with him without having to deal with me, you’re welcome to him. He’s better off with you, I’m sure.”
“No.” She put a hand to her chest, hurt. “It’s not just Theo. I care about you.”
“Why?” he demanded. “What do I have to offer you? I’m a wreck.”
She opened her mouth, ready to list his good traits, but he waved her into silence.
“My life is a trainwreck, Fern. My daughter hates me. My sisters despise me. I’m a disappointment to my parents. My wife was so miserable with me that she OD’d.”
“That wasn’t your fault.”
“How would you know?” he demanded. “You never even met her!”
Fern swallowed. “That’s true. I never knew her.”
His face collapsed from anger to despair. “I don’t have anything to offer you.”
“You have plenty to offer.” She paused, searching for the right words, searching for something that might remind him of who he was, how capable he was, how much he cared.
“I should never have come here,” he said mournfully. “Juniper doesn’t want me here. No one does.”
“I want you here,” she said in a broken voice.
“I’m sorry, Fern. I never should have gotten involved with you – with anyone – so soon after losing Laurel. You deserve better.”
“You’re having one bad day,” she said, moving closer. “That doesn’t cancel out all the good ones.”
He shook his head, looking down at his hands. “I don’t know how much longer I can stay.”
She froze. “What do you mean?”
“My business is a mess. The guy I left in charge just dropped the ball on a big project, and it’s my fault for bailing on him with no warning. I can’t keep running things from over here.”
“So you’re leaving? Just like that?”
“I don’t know.” His voice was tight and uneven as he fought back tears. “I don’t – I can’t do this right now. You should go.”
She hovered there for another moment, wanting to go to him. What chance did any relationship have if two people couldn’t be there for each other at their worst?
“Just go, Fern. Please.” His voice was ragged.
She turned away, lurching for the exit as if he had shoved her. She walked out onto the landing and closed the front door gently behind her.
They didn’t have a relationship, she thought bitterly. Not really.
She descended the stairs slowly, keeping one hand on the rail. She felt dizzy.
Enough. She was too old for this. Too old for the drama. It was too much.
If he didn’t want her around, she wouldn’t try to force it.
It was his loss.
Fern stomped around to her little downstairs apartment and went inside, slamming the door behind her.
Alone in her room, her bravado faded.
She thought of all of the sunny days they had spent together exploring the island, the steep jungle hikes and lazy hours at the beach. She felt at ease in his company in a way that was entirely new, and she didn’t want to lose him.
Then she thought of Theo, and the possibility of losing him forever hit her like a punch to the gut.
She crawled into bed and cried herself to sleep.