Chapter 16 #2
I can feel Luke watching me, but I can’t look at him yet.
If I look, I might lose my nerve to say the rest.
“But I didn’t want to toughen up,” I whisper. “It felt important to see the truth, to bear witness to what people were really going through, even if there was nothing that I could do to help them. And then, eventually, when I was older, I realized there was something I could do.”
“You could shine a light,” he says, making my chin snap up.
And making me wonder who he really is all over again.
Is he the jaded billionaire, who will always see the darkness? Or is he the white knight on his horse? The one who sees and understands, the one ready to swoop me up and help me take the light to places I could never reach alone?
I search his face as I nod. “Yeah. I think light means more coming from someone who sees the dark. I think the people who need that from me see that. And the rest…” I shrug.
“Well, they can think I’m a silly woman wearing rose-colored glasses if they want.
But my optimism isn’t ignorance. It’s not proof that I’m some na?ve fool who doesn’t understand how the world works.
It’s how I make a difference. By choosing kindness over cruelty and hope over despair.
By smiling and laughing every chance I get and making other people smile and laugh and…
” I sniff, fighting tears again as snow begins to fall.
“It might not seem like much, but it’s important to me.
It’s how I survive. If I thought the way you do…
If I believed we were all rotten and doomed, I honestly don’t know how much longer I’d be able to stick around. ”
The words hang in the cold air between us, and for a long moment, neither of us moves.
When I finally look at him again, I’m shocked to see tears in his eyes.
Tears he’s clearly still fighting to control as he says in a rough voice, “You’re very wise, Holly Jo Hadley. And very special.” He swallows. “You really are. And so important. The world needs more people like you.”
“And what about you?” I whisper, my throat tight. “Do you need me? Is that why you’re here?”
The question hangs between us, naked and filled with longing.
He exhales a soft laugh as he drags the back of his hand across his cheek, smearing the wetness there.
“I don’t know why I’m here, honestly. I thought I did, but then you took me to school.
Or to church, maybe? I don’t know… You just…
You’ve proven I’m not seeing things as clearly as I thought, and…
” He blinks fast, looking so vulnerable and lost that a part of me wants to pull him in for a hug.
But my hug won’t help him get to where he needs to go.
That’s something Luke has to do by himself.
He draws in a breath, his hands clenching around his cup so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t crush it.
“I clearly need to do some thinking. Some reflection.” He stands up abruptly, adding in a tight voice, “But bottom line, I’m sorry.
I never should have behaved the way I did on Friday.
You deserve so much better than that. You just… You deserve so much.”
Then, he walks away, down the alley and onto Main Street, his shoulders hunched against the cold and the weight of the things he carries.
He’s gone before I can remind him that I should be the one to decide what I deserve and when I’m ready to give up on someone.
Yes, Luke was an asshole. But he’s also been funny and sweet and smart and generous and compelling. He contains multitudes, as we all do. And at least he sees the need for change and seems to want to make it happen.
That’s a lot more than most men our age.
Hell, most people. Period.
I love people, I really do. And I usually see the best in them.
But, like I told Luke, I also see the truth. I see how most people get to their early twenties and get…stuck. Growth slows in the molasses swamp of everyday life, patterns are established, ways of thinking become ingrained, then stagnate, and making positive change gets harder and harder.
And maybe that’s natural. Maybe those patterns and routines are the reason most people don’t seem to wander around wondering what it’s all about as much as I do.
But Luke wonders and wanders; he always has.
Maybe that’s why he’s always felt like a member of my tribe and why, beneath my sadness and exhaustion, a tiny flame still burns.
It’s hope, there for me the way it has been for so long.
There’s still a chance Luke will figure this out before it’s too late. That he’ll look in the mirror and realize he’s worthy of love, even when he makes mistakes.
That he’ll decide he wants to know what love is and that I’m the girl to show him.
Humming an 80s song beneath my breath, I stand, wincing as my stiff legs protest the cold. The snow is falling more heavily now, thick flakes drifting down from the darkening sky, catching in my hair and on my eyelashes. I blink them away as I aim myself toward the edge of town.
I need to move, to walk off the emotional turmoil of the afternoon until I feel steadier in my skin.
Automatically, my feet head in the direction of my parents’ house, my lifelong refuge from the storm.
There, I know Mom will make tea—the loose-leaf stuff that she saves for special occasions and emotional emergencies—Dad will give me a big hug, and neither of them will ask why I look like I’ve been crying until I’m ready to talk about it.
And if I don’t want to talk, that will be fine, too.
I really am a very lucky woman to have been raised surrounded by such selfless, patient, persistent love.
As I walk, my boots crunching on the thin layer of snow accumulating on the gravel on the shoulder of the road, I force my thoughts to brighter things.
To the perfect presents that I’ll wrap for my parents tomorrow.
To all the incredible pet portraits I took this year, and how my “year-end” social media montage will really be something this December 31st. To Candy and our plans to join the Silver Bell Falls seniors for their Disco ‘Til Dawn celebration on New Year’s Eve.
I don’t know about the rest of the country, but old people in Vermont know how to party and have some serious stamina.
Probably all the hiking in the summer and shoveling snow in the winter…
“Help! Oh, please, help,” a frantic voice calls from up ahead, pulling me from my thoughts. I look up to see Willow running toward me down the snow-dusted road. “Holly, is that you? Oh, Holly, thank God.”
“What’s wrong?” I shout, jogging toward her. “Are you okay?”
Willow’s purple coat flares behind her like a cape, her silver hair has come loose from its bun, and her usually peaceful gaze is frantic. I’ve never seen her like this and instantly fear something’s happened to my parents.
“My car wouldn’t start, and the phone lines are down out our way.” She gasps as she nearly collides with me, her hands reaching out to brace herself on my arms. “It’s Cheeks. He’s gone. And in terrible danger.”
I experience a brief flood of relief that Mom and Dad are all right, followed closely by worry for my favorite chipmunk. “What happened?”
“He was visiting Maple, the calico who lives above the bookstore.” Willow’s words tumble out as she continues to fight for breath.
“He was out on the porch with her, having a snack, when Peanut, that angry dog from the tree lighting ceremony, attacked them. Calico ran back inside, but Cheeks…” She shakes her head.
“Margaret said she saw him run behind the mercantile, but when she went to look, he was… She couldn’t see… ”
“Okay. Got it. Don’t worry, we’ll find him,” I assure her. “Are my parents at home? You know they would have been happy to drive you to town.”
Willow’s brow furrows. “I don’t know. I was so frantic. When my car wouldn’t start, I just started running.” She swallows before adding in a softer voice, “I can’t sense his energy, Holly. I always can, even when he’s far away. But now… What if he’s…”
She can’t voice the fear, but I understand perfectly.
“We don’t know anything for sure,” I say firmly. “You’re the one who taught me how important it is to stay in the present moment, right? To only consider what the universe is giving me when it’s sitting in the palm of my hand?”
She nods, seeming at least a little bit soothed by the reminder. “You’re right. Take only what comes, and you’ll only ever grieve what’s truly lost. It’s the best way to reduce suffering.”
“Exactly,” I say, grateful to see her recovering her center. “Now, where did Margaret say she saw him last?”
“Behind the mercantile, not far from the forest.”
My stomach clenches. The woods are dark, dense, and full of chipmunk predators. Even if Cheeks managed to get away from Peanut in time, he won’t be out of the woods yet.
Literally…
And the snow is really coming down now. If it keeps up like this, the drifts will soon be over a little creature’s head, and the sun is setting soon.
All good reasons to hurry.
“Come on,” I say, turning back toward town, moving fast. “I’ll help you look, and we’ll see how many people we can add to the search party on the way to the logging trail. We’ll find him.”
As we hurry down the street, practically jogging, I take a more critical look at the sky. The clouds are dark and thick. This isn’t just a flurry. It looks like the winter storm that was supposed to hold off until midnight has arrived early.
Probably too early for it to be safe for Willow and me to be out looking for too long…
I push the worry down and focus on the bright side.
We have nearly an hour before sunset, and there were still tons of locals out and about when I left town.
We’ll find people to help, blanket the town in a Cheeks-loving search party, and be at the pub celebrating over hot toddies with a chipmunk in someone’s pocket by dinner time.
Bright side, bright side, I silently chant, hoping this won’t be one of those times my optimism gets me into trouble.