31. Cole
“This way.” I clutch Sydney’s hand, ducking under a tree as I lead her on the path in the woods I haven’t walked since high school.
Sharp memories of when I was beaten down—quite literally bruised and battered—and came here seeking refuge flash through my mind with each step I take. I came here once to twist my own shoulder back into place after my dad dislocated it so I could yell out in pain without anyone hearing me. My stomach sours as I recall several other similar incidents.
The trees in the woods are overgrown, and the barely there path is unrecognizable, but I forge along purely on instinct.
Sydney is quiet behind me, which further fuels me along. The urge I had to comfort her when she came out of her mom’s room was nothing short of overwhelming, and it hasn’t dissipated one bit. Making sure she’s okay is a need that presses heavily on my chest.
“Here,” I announce when we reach the clearing. She comes to a stop by my side as we peer out at a large pond in the middle of the woods. It hasn’t changed much except for an overgrowth of weeds along the edges, and I’m glad to find it still offers the same picturesque beauty I remember.
“This is so pretty,” she whispers, the pain still evident in her strained voice.
I point to a hill along the shore of the pond and have a seat next to her, bending at the knees.
“This was another spot I used to escape to,” I say quietly. “I thought you might need a quiet moment before heading back to the island.”
I glance over and watch as she bites her lip, fighting back tears.
“Thank you,” she says, her voice cracking. Seeing her like this hurts me in a way I wasn’t prepared for, and I struggle to find the right words to say. Again, who am I to pretend to know the answers? How am I supposed to know which ones will take some of her pain away?
I settle for the only thing I know how to do.
To just be here—to be present.
We watch as two birds swoop around each other, dancing in the air above the pond, and I desperately hope that the scenery will provide the same solace for her that it once did for me.
“Are you okay?” I ask after a little while.
“Yeah.” She sniffles before sighing deeply. “It was hard, Cole.”
“I know.” It doesn’t seem like enough, but it’s all I can think of to say.
“In a way, it feels like a weight has been lifted, but now…it’s almost as if a new wound has formed in its place,” she admits. “The image of my mother’s blank stare used to be something that wasn’t fresh in my mind. It was easier to push it aside when it was just a memory. Now it’s fresh. And jarring. I don’t know…does that make any sense?”
“It does.”
“I don’t regret it, though,” she says softly, picking at a piece of grass by her foot. “I’m proud of myself for taking this step. It’ll just take time, I think.”
“You should be proud of yourself,” I say quietly.
“Tell me about your uncle.” She smiles softly, perking up slightly at the change of topic.
I’ve pushed the thought of him out of my mind to focus on being here for Sydney, so the reminder that he’s back sends a rush of something light through my chest. I still can’t believe he’s here. I dip my head and dare to smile about it.
“Well, after I got his message, I left the island immediately,” I explain, still feeling guilty about not being clearer with her yesterday morning. “He’s staying at the motel up the street. I think he was surprised to see me so soon—he had no idea I was on the island. Anyway, he apologized profusely for dropping the ball on staying in touch. Apparently, he got caught up in a small-town romance in southern Texas that eventually went haywire.”
“That’s great, Cole—not the failed love interest, but that he’s back. I bet it was nice to see him,” she says sincerely with tired eyes.
“It was.” I ensure eye contact before continuing. “I truly am sorry for not telling you where I was. We got caught up reminiscing and ended up talking all the way through the night. It’s been kind of a whirlwind, to be honest.”
She smiles. “It’s okay. How long is he staying for?”
“I have no idea,” I admit. “I didn’t have a chance to ask before I realized I was late and booked it out of there.”
“It’s okay,” she says with a subdued shrug. “What was your time like with him back then when you left Baudette? Did it take long to find him?”
“Not really. I knew he was in Albuquerque as of the last letter he sent, so I went there first. Luckily, he was still in town. All I had to do was ask around at a few of the local dives to be pointed in the right direction.” I run a hand down my jaw as I recall the memories.
“He had been making ends meet by doing random painting jobs, so we ended up working together. I’d build something, and he’d paint it. Worked out for a while—a couple years, even—but then he got a hankering to head to Texas. I knew I didn’t want to go there, and obviously, I didn’t want to be back in Baudette, but I missed Minnesota. The seasons. The fishing and hunting—I do love it here. So I found myself a home in Longville.”
I look over to find her watching me intently, as if she was hanging on my every word. She’s resting her head against the arm that’s folded around her legs, as if she’s too tired to hold her head up.
“I’m glad you were able to find him,” she says quietly.
“I am too.” I twist my mouth into a smile before we fall into a comfortable quiet while watching the pond.
“Thanks for meeting me,” she whispers eventually. “It really did help knowing you were right outside the door.”
I roll my lips and slide my arm around her shoulder, not wanting but needing to feel closer to her. She scoots even closer to me and lays her head on my shoulder in place of her arm. We sit like that for a while, watching geese as they fly in to land on the water.
As we do, I ponder how, a few short weeks ago, Sydney was nothing but a thorn in the side of my painful past, and now…now she’s quickly become a very significant part of my present.
I may not know how to put a name to this growing connection between us, or where it’s heading from here, but I know without a shadow of a doubt that I’m willing to do anything to find out.
I pull her closer to my side, and as another goose flies in, I realize that right here, right now, with her pressed to my side, is the safest I’ve ever felt in this city.