Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Mia
I’d said goodbye—it wasn’t one of those good goodbyes where you got closure and felt good about leaving.
It’d felt unfinished and uncomfortable. I’d knocked on the door, even knowing that he wouldn’t answer.
And that was okay. Bower hadn’t been in a place where he’d wanted to talk to me.
I couldn’t help someone who wouldn’t accept it.
As much as I wanted to hug him and tell him everything would be okay, I didn’t know if it would be.
He wouldn’t let me help him or attempt to find someone that could.
I knew how tough it was to ask for help, but if he wanted to find strategies to cope, he needed to ask.
I might not be there when he was ready, but I knew he had Caleb and Chloe.
Dean would be there too. He had people around, people he could confide in.
That no longer included me.
I’d left him with an agate—the one I’d kept in my purse all these years. Part of me wanted to leave every piece of Agate Harbors behind completely. I didn’t know how I’d ever go back.
So when I left, I’d tossed the agate beneath his door and run.
The drive home from Agate Harbors had been awful. My parents, surprisingly, had picked up on my bad mood and asked after Archer, and that was when I’d bitten the bullet and told them we’d officially ended things. There’d been no escaping their disapproval for hours.
The house had been quiet since we’d gotten back. I’d kept to myself, hiding out in my bedroom—the one I’d slept in since I was a kid—trying to avoid my parents. It was going to be my room for the foreseeable future now that the wedding had been called off.
It was mid-August, and I was back at school preparing for my new students.
Beginning a new school year had always made me happy.
Opening the door to my first-grade classroom had always brought me infinite amounts of joy.
All the crisp notebooks, crayons that still had their paper wrapped around them, pencils that all had a freshly sharpened point.
It was supposed to be a fresh start—though this year, it felt like I was stagnant, stuck.
But this summer was over. Done and dusted. Filed away with the warning tags of Do not open. Forget this ever happened.
I busied myself with all the tasks that came with setting up my classroom for a new school year.
There were desks to arrange, name tags to write, a whole packet of information about the new statewide tests we’d be giving a couple months into the school year.
Instead of invigorating, this year my to-do list felt daunting.
I spent so much of my time teaching kids to memorize so they’d do well on tests, and that wasn’t why I’d wanted to be a teacher.
Kids learned so much better when they could explore with their hands—playing and creating was so much more important than being able to spit out numbers and use simple recall skills.
That was why I’d particularly enjoyed helping Bower out with Kids Camp this summer. The kids were doing what they were meant to be doing: Having fun. Playing. There was just as much learning going on as there was with a pencil and paper.
Memories of Kids Camp and holding Bower’s hand during red rover flooded my brain. It had been the first time we’d touched, felt that static flowing through our bodies into each other’s.
I needed cobwebs over these memories, stat. Bower didn’t want a relationship with me. He’d all but physically pushed me away from him.
The principal got on the loudspeaker and announced an all-staff meeting in the library and to bring the packet of testing information with us, maybe also a pen to take notes with. Ugh. This was bound to last at least half of the day. I’d have to stay late tonight arranging my classroom.
The library was on the other side of the school.
I walked down the first-grade hallway, the empty walls soon to be decorated with colorful artwork.
Chairs and tables were still stacked in the lunchroom, waiting for the janitorial staff to unstack them for the hungry kids, who would complain about how they were serving steamed broccoli for the third time this week.
Sunlight streamed in through the large windows at the front of the school.
A small woman paced outside in front of the doors, pulling on the handle and jiggling the lock. I hesitantly got closer. The doors were locked for safety. All the staff had a key card to get in. Was she a new staff member who hadn’t received her key card yet?
I cracked the door open a bit. The woman was already turning to walk away from the building. “Can I help you?” I asked.
She turned around, startled by my voice. I also got a surprise.
“Betty?”
She looked a little older, a little more tired, but it was Betty. She looked out of place here. I had never seen her anywhere other than Agate Harbors.
“Mia!” Betty walked toward me, her shoulders back, standing straighter. She pulled me in for one of her amazing hugs.
I hugged her back, squeezing my eyes shut. Tears threatened to spill from my lids. I’d needed this hug. It felt like an apology for Bower, even though she knew nothing about what happened between us.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, my chin still resting on her shoulder. I pulled myself away and out of the haze of the hug. Wasn’t someone supposed to be watching her? How did she get here, four hours away from her home?
“I-I don’t know,” Betty said. She looked at her feet, then around her, suddenly confused. “What am I doing here? Where am I?”
She was starting to panic. I could sense it by her body language and the way her voice raised an octave higher.
I grabbed her hands and held them in mine. “It’s okay, Betty. You’re here now, safe with me. We’ll get it figured out.”
I led her into the school, using my key card to unlock the door that had closed behind me. She gripped my hand tightly, like she’d sink down into the depths of her mind if she let go.
I brought her to my classroom. The school was quiet, all the teachers already gathered in the library. With every step we took, I heard a strange rattling noise. I paused a couple of times, looking around to see what the noise was and where it was coming from.
I walked Betty over to my desk, helping her sit down, making sure she landed squarely on the seat. As soon as she sat, the sides of her pants sank low, the fabric stretching unnaturally toward the ground.
“Betty,” I said, still holding her hands in one of my own. “What’s in your pockets?”
She lifted one of her hands out of mine and reached into her pocket. The same rattling sound met my ears as she sifted through it, a perplexed look on her face.
Her hand emerged closed around an object.
She held her hand between us, slowly unfurling her fingers.
In the center of her palm was a rock, a white one with tiny black speckles dispersed throughout.
She set it on my desk, her hand digging back into her pocket, coming out with another rock and then another.
I watched as she pulled rock after rock out of her pockets, lining them up on my desk.
They all were so different. Some had tiny sparkly crystals, and others were matte tan and looked like sand squished tightly together.
I didn’t have words as I watched her, and she didn’t give me any explanation either.
When her pockets were empty, she looked at me, smiling.
“Mia,” she said, reaching out her hands again for mine.
I watched her face go from perplexed to content.
“I have something for you back at my cabin.” She said it like she hadn’t just emptied fifteen rocks from her pockets.
“Your cabin is four hours away, Betty,” I reminded her.
“I looked you up in the reservation system. This is the address it said. I took the bus and found you.”
I blinked at that and then realized—the bachelorette party I’d planned. I’d used the school’s address instead of my parents’. That seemed like a lifetime ago.
“You did, Betty. You found me. I’m glad you did.” I tried to take a breath and release it slowly, like I’d learned to do in my own therapy. Betty was in crisis right now. Her family had to be looking for her.
“He needs you.”
I stopped breathing as she said those words. Her eyes were those that I remembered. It was like looking at a glimpse of who Betty used to be. The kind, warm woman who’d accepted me when no other adult had.
“Why don’t you sit here for a bit, Betty?” I said. “I need to make a phone call.”
She nodded and began stacking the rocks, balancing one on top of another on the surface of my desk. I paused a moment before I walked away, making sure she was content and would stay. I opened my phone and pulled up the number to Agate Harbors.
While we waited, I let Betty stack rocks on my desk and offered her what little food I’d found in the teachers’ lounge.
My principal stopped by my room after I hadn’t shown up to the staff meeting.
She saw Betty sitting in my classroom and, after I explained the situation, gave me the rest of the day off, promising to send a recap email of the meeting I’d missed that I was sure would be just as fascinating as the real thing.
All the while, Betty didn’t seem to recognize me or even acknowledge my presence. I watched her, though, not letting her out of my sight.
My phone buzzed. It was Gill, calling me to let me know he was here. It’d only taken him three and a half hours to get here, even driving through cabin traffic. I didn’t want to know how many traffic laws he’d broken to manage that.
I grabbed my purse and phone before I slowly led Betty through the school and out the front doors. The rest of the teachers had called it a day, and the school was empty.
Gill was outside the doors, pacing. He rushed to Betty when I swung open the door and led her outside.
She cringed, squeezing my hand tightly as her husband approached.
I cringed too as Gill stopped, backing off as soon as he realized his wife was uncomfortable with him being so close.
To see two people who’d loved each other so fiercely, so completely be now so inaccessible to each other was difficult to watch.
Behind them I saw a flash of blond hair.
It was lighter than when I’d left a month and a half ago.
Bower had come with his grandpa. It shouldn’t have surprised me—of course he’d come help his grandpa—but seeing him in person again had all those feelings I’d tried to tuck away flooding through my veins.
The fast drive time made more sense now too.
He occasionally glanced at his grandparents but kept his eyes on me. I tried my best not to fidget beneath his stare.
“I’m so sorry, Mia,” Gill started. “Chloe had her baby, and we haven’t been able to find reliable help to watch her.”
I shook my head, pulling my eyes away from Bower. “It’s not a problem. Really.” I guided her hand toward Gill’s, trying to hand her off to him.
She pulled back, stepping away. “Who are these people you’re giving me to?” Betty cowered next to me, folding in on her herself, trying to use me as a shield against Gill and Bower, the very people who loved her deeply.
“I know it’s hard to understand, but that’s your husband and your grandson. They’re going to take you home,” I explained. I tried to be calm, looking her in the eyes and holding her hands in mine.
“No!” Betty yelled. “I’m not going with them!”
She pulled me back toward the school doors, letting go of my hands to yank on the locked handles. The doors rattled as she shook them.
Gill looked down at his feet, his hand coming up to his eyes. He didn’t like seeing his wife like this. Unrecognizable. Someone he didn’t know and someone who didn’t know him.
Bower came up behind Betty, putting his hands on her upper arms, trying to guide her away from the school doors and toward the car.
She swatted at him, screaming that she was getting attacked.
He backed away slowly with his hands up.
We all knew he wasn’t hurting her, but the accusations were painful.
I felt a tear roll down my cheek. Watching this was excruciating. There was nothing Bower or Gill could do. She didn’t know them. It felt to her like she was being kidnapped, being brought to an unknown destination with unknown people against her will.
“Hey, Betty?” I asked tentatively, walking toward where she stood breathing heavily, holding on to the handles of the door. Her knuckles were white, her face covered in beads of perspiration. She was so worked up. She wouldn’t be leaving with either of them. Not alone. “Can I take you home?”
Betty looked up at me, her eyes empty and her lip trembling. I peeled her hands off the door handle and held them gently in mine, trying to let her know that she could pull away if she wanted to. I wasn’t forcing her to do anything.
“I’d love a Popsicle,” I said. “Can we have one when we get home?”
Betty cocked her head to the side, the look of recognition suddenly appearing on her face. “I’m sure I have an orange Popsicle buried in the freezer,” she said.
I smiled at her, squeezing her hand slightly. “These are going to be our drivers, okay?” I gestured to Bower and Gill.
She looked at them and back at me before nodding. They both headed to the car that was still running in front of the school, pulled up in the bus turnaround.
I helped Betty into the car, climbing into the back seat with her. I made sure she was buckled before nodding to Bower, who eyed us in the rearview mirror. Gill turned around and gave me the softest of smiles.
With Betty’s hand still in mine resting on top of the middle seat between us, we turned onto the highway that led us north.
Apparently my summer wasn’t over just yet.