CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE SABRINA A WEEK LATER
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
SAbrINA
A WEEK LATER
I say goodbye to Dad, and Coen takes him to the airport.
I think it’s good for them to have some bonding time.
I also don’t want him to see me crying after the truck pulls away.
He kept asking me if I was sure it would be okay if he went to Portland.
I’m not sure how this is going to work, having him gone, but ever since he made that choice to go, he’s been so much more alive.
Maybe he needed to leave too. I was too wrapped up in my own problems to see that.
For the last week, he’s been planning. He hasn’t planned anything in ages.
Now, he’s got a list of all the music stores he wants to visit on his phone and a hundred plus screenshots of the bookstores and breweries he’s going to visit with Eugenia.
It’s like sending a kid off to college for the first time.
I smile and wave until the truck has disappeared. Serena doesn’t say a word as she hugs me around the waist and goes inside.
It’s early. I booked an early flight so Eugenia wouldn’t have to pick him up in the dark. The stars are just now dissipating on the horizon. I gaze up at them with a lump in my throat.
Everything is fine.
Everything is as it should be. But that doesn't mean life doesn’t taste a little bittersweet sometimes.
The Maligators follow me inside and flop down on the living room floor.
It’s hot, so I won’t make them go outside.
In the silence of the empty house, I make a cup of coffee and take it to the barn.
In the far stall is Rosie, who I haven’t had time to work with since the day Coen stepped into the paddock with her.
I lean on the door and hold out my hand.
She comes to me, sniffing my palm.
“Hey,” I whisper. “You think it’s time?”
She throws her head gently. I touch her nose, feeling the warmth of her hair against my skin.
Life is so vibrant. In all these little moments. In all these little pieces.
I have no one to cook for right now, no chores that need finished. So, I take my coffee and carefully lead Rosie out into the paddock and unhook her halter. She kicks her back legs and does a loop around the grass. Then, for the first time, she comes right back to me.
Maybe there was something about me she didn’t like before. My energy was unsettled. Horses can tell those things.
I’m at peace now.
By the time I put Rosie away, Serena has lunch on the table. We take our sandwiches out to the front porch, and she sits on the step, sunning her tanned legs. I sit in the rocking chair where Mom used to sit, and I think about how I should call her tonight.
“You like Jamie?” I ask casually.
They’ve been avoiding each other like the plague all week.
Jamie spent most of his time this week in the guesthouse, blaming work for his absences.
Serena glances up, eyes flashing. I laugh out loud and don’t push it.
We talk about other things, like where we’ll spend Christmas this year.
We both agree it would be nice to go up to New York for a few weeks at least. I say I think Coen would like that.
I say we should call Mom together later, and Serena agrees.
“There’s your man,” she says, squinting down at the road, barely visible.
Warmth blossoms right where my heart sits. His truck appears with a plume of dust rising from it.
“Yes,” I agree. “That’s my man.”