Chapter 36 #2
"I think that's a really cute tradition."
“Does your family like traditions?” I ask, wanting to know more about her family and hoping that I’ll be lucky enough to meet them someday.
“Oh god, my mother is the queen of them. I swear every year around the holidays, she tries to add a new one, and it’s like, Mom! We have enough of them already!”
“What’s your favorite one?”
“I can tell you my least favorite one.”
I chuckle because, of course, Blake would have to think about her favorite, but immediately knows the one she doesn’t like. “What’s that?”
“At Thanksgiving, we go around and say something we love about someone else at the table.”
“Doesn’t everyone do that?”
“Sure. But my family is extra about it.”
“How so?”
“We have these blue glass plates.” She holds out her hands in the shape of a circle, and I admire the ink on her forearms. “Years ago, my grandma had us each cut out a paper snowflake. Then she had each of them etched onto a glass plate, and on the underside of our snowflake plate are our initials.”
“That’s cute.”
“Just wait.” She holds up a hand, silencing me. “We set out the plates randomly and sit at our usual spots. Before we dish up, we look under our plate and see whose initials we have. Then we go around the table, and that’s the person we say something nice about.”
“What if you don’t like the person whose plate you got?”
She ponders that for a moment. “I don’t know, I guess you just make something up then.”
“You’ve never gotten someone you don’t like?”
“Nope. I always offer to set up the table so I can cheat and put Grandpa’s snowflake plate at my spot.”
Laughter bursts out of me, and I’m not sure why, because that’s not shocking at all. But it is funny as hell.
I collect myself quickly and ask a follow-up question before she has a chance to change the subject. “What happens when someone new joins the family? Do they get a plate?”
She eyes me suspiciously, but I can see the smirk she’s trying to hide. “They cut out a snowflake, and my auntie makes them a new plate.”
“So, Sam has his own plate?” I probe.
“Yes. Sam has his own plate...”
She opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her off. “If I got your plate, I’d tell everyone I love your snarky retorts.”
She slows and looks up at me, hesitantly. “I—”
“I’m just teasing, Blake.”
“Shut up and listen.” She holds up a hand to silence me once more.
She closes her eyes, gearing up for whatever she has to say, biting her lower lip in the process, and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous for what’s about to come out of her mouth next.
“If I got your plate…” She opens her brown eyes, and they soften. Her chest heaves with deep breath, and I can practically hear her heart beating out of her chest from here. “I’d tell you I love you.”
I’m stunned speechless.
“I would tell you that I wholeheartedly, in my own fucked up way…love you.”
I don’t stop my body when it goes into autopilot and pulls her in for a kiss. I hear her cup of ice cream squish between us, but I don’t give a shit. Blake just told me she loves me. On purpose.
"Dad, hurry up! We're getting close."
I drop Blake’s face and look to my left to see Clover flagging us down. Fuck, did she see that? If she did, she’s not acting like it.
"Be right there," I call out.
"Close to what?" Blake asks.
My brain is still foggy from her admission, so it takes me a minute to realize what she just asked. "Oh, um…our bench."
"Oh?"
A bench may not seem all that special, but it is to Clover and me. “Come on.” I take her hand in mine, and she doesn’t fight me on it.
As we walk, I lean over and whisper, “I love you too, Blake.”
She responds by squeezing my hand a little too hard, and I can see her jaw flexing as she fights a smile.
When we get there, Clover is already sitting on it with Winnie, eating her ice cream.
"Do you think we'll all fit?" Clover's eager face is making me want to try.
"Let's see."
Raina sits down next to Winnie, and the girls scoot toward her to make room for Blake and me. It's a tight squeeze, so I set my empty ice cream cup by my feet and hoist Clover onto my lap.
"There you go. We all fit." Clover leans back into me, and I wrap my arms around her. "We'll have to see if you still fit on my lap next year, though."
"Next year, B can sit on your lap."
I'm surprised by Clover's comment, but I keep my cool, and I don't laugh like I want to.
"Yeah, maybe." I catch Blake's glance and wink at her.
She smiles softly and settles into her spot on the bench next to me, her hand grazing my thigh.
Maybe I'm reading into this too much, but I tell myself that's her way of letting me know she can see herself here with us next year.
After everyone finishes their ice cream, we toss our containers in a nearby trash bin and turn to finish our walk around the lake.
I notice Blake pausing by the bench as she passes it again, noticing the small metal plaque that's fastened to the backrest. She leans in to get a better look.
I walk over there and rub my hand across her back.
When she's finished reading it, she stands up and faces me with a look I can't quite pin. "That's really sweet."
"Daisy's parents had that put on there shortly after she passed. They live nearby, so Daisy actually used to come sit here a lot when she was a kid. Then, when Clover was born, she started bringing her here. The bench has obviously been redone since then, but it was still a special place to her."
Blake nods and takes in a deep breath before letting it out in a sigh. "Funny enough, there's actually a bench with a plaque on it for Harlen, too."
"Really?"
"Mhm. It's under this beautiful willow tree that's right next to our high school."
I put my arm around her as we start walking.
"I go there a lot, actually."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah. I don't make special trips there or anything, but when I'm home for holidays or weddings, I always stop by."
"Do you feel close to him when you're sitting there?"
"Yeah, I guess a little. It's just a good reminder not to forget him.
Though I'm sure there are plenty of people who walk by it or sit there and don't even read the plaque.
It doesn't have a thoughtful message or anything like Daisy's does, so it's smaller.
It just says, 'Harlen Harold', the years he was alive, and at the bottom it says the same as Daisy's. "
Think of Me.