Chapter 28
Remedy
Three days passed before Harbor House began to feel less like an emergency shelter and more like a home.
Children played in the backyard.
The women no longer flinched every time a truck pulled into the driveway.
Someone had hung paper butterflies along the hallway walls, though no one admitted to doing it.
Grace smiled more often.
Emma had already started helping Daisy organize supplies, unable to sit still for long.
Healing wasn't dramatic.
It happened one ordinary morning at a time.
Charlie had decided Grace was officially part of every game.
"You're on my team."
Grace looked confused.
"What game?"
"I don't know yet."
Apparently that wasn't important.
The two girls sat on the living room floor surrounded by blocks while Mr. Pickles supervised from the couch.
I leaned against the kitchen doorway with a cup of coffee, watching Sunshine laugh at something Charlie had said.
She looked lighter.
Not healed.
Healing wasn't a destination.
But lighter.
The rescue had given her something she'd been missing for years.
Proof that hope hadn't betrayed her.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
Normally I let those go to voicemail.
Something made me answer.
"Remedy."
Silence.
Then a woman's voice.
"...Is this Ethan?"
No one called me Ethan anymore.
Not unless they'd known me before the club.
My stomach tightened.
"Who's asking?"
Another pause.
"I..."
She sounded like she'd forgotten how to breathe.
"I was told this was your number."
"Who is this?"
"I..."
The line went quiet again.
Finally—
"My name is Brooke."
Everything inside me stopped.
Across the room Charlie laughed as Grace stacked another crooked tower.
Sunshine looked up, smiling.
The world continued moving.
Mine didn't.
Brooke.
After almost four years.
"I know I don't deserve for you to stay on the phone."
Her voice shook.
"But please..."
"Just don't hang up."
I walked onto the back porch before answering.
"What do you want?"
"I don't know."
Not the answer I'd expected.
"I've practiced this conversation a hundred times."
"I'm sure."
"I still don't know."
I stared across the yard.
"You left."
"Yes."
"You didn't call."
"I know."
"You didn't write."
"I tried."
I laughed once.
Without humor.
"Tried."
"I never sent them."
"Why?"
"I didn't think I deserved to."
The anger I'd carried for years was still there.
Just quieter than it used to be.
"What changed?"
"I met someone."
My shoulders stiffened.
"A counselor."
She hurried to explain.
"Not... not another relationship."
I stayed silent.
"I've been in therapy almost three years."
Good.
That didn't erase anything.
"I had postpartum depression."
The words landed heavily.
"I know that isn't an excuse."
"It isn't."
"I know."
Silence settled between us.
Then—
"How's Charlie?"
The question hit harder than I expected.
"She's four."
"I know."
"You know?"
"I've followed birthdays."
I frowned.
"What?"
"I never came close."
"I promised myself I wouldn't."
"But..."
Her voice cracked.
"I knew when she started preschool."
"I knew when she lost her first tooth."
"I knew she likes pancakes."
My grip tightened on the phone.
"How?"
"Daisy."
I blinked.
"Daisy?"
"I called once."
"Years ago."
"I asked if Charlie was healthy."
"And Daisy told me that if I was ever going to be part of her life..."
A small laugh escaped through tears.
"...I needed to become someone worthy of it."
That sounded exactly like Daisy.
"So I tried."
I closed my eyes.
"What do you want, Brooke?"
"I want to meet her."
There it was.
The question I'd known was coming.
"I don't expect today."
"I don't expect tomorrow."
"I don't expect forgiveness."
"I just..."
She took a shaky breath.
"...I don't want her to grow up believing I never loved her."
I looked through the kitchen window.
Charlie had climbed into Sunshine's lap with a book.
Grace leaned against the couch beside them.
Three girls.
Three different stories.
One family slowly forming around them.
"I can't answer that alone."
"I know."
"I wanted to ask."
Another long silence.
Then she said quietly,
"I'll come to Blackwater Falls."
"When?"
"I'm already here."
I looked toward the road instinctively.
"What?"
"I've been staying at the motel outside town for two days."
Two days.
Close enough to drive here.
Too afraid to.
"I couldn't make myself come."
"I understand."
"I'm not asking you to."
"I just..."
Her voice broke completely.
"I wanted you to know I came."
The line grew quiet.
"I'll call you tomorrow," I said.
"You don't have to."
"I know."
I ended the call.
I stayed on the porch another ten minutes.
Not because I didn't know what to do.
Because I did.
I had to tell Sunshine.
Not because she needed permission.
Because Charlie's life had become our life.
We didn't keep things like this from each other.
When I walked back inside, Sunshine looked up immediately.
"You okay?"
I shook my head.
"No."
Charlie noticed too.
She climbed off Sunshine's lap and hurried over.
"Daddy?"
I crouched in front of her.
"I'm okay, Bug."
"You made your sad face."
Apparently I had.
She wrapped both little arms around my neck.
The hug lasted only a few seconds.
Just long enough to remind me why this mattered.
When she let go, she ran back to Grace.
Sunshine waited until the girls were absorbed in their picture book before joining me in the kitchen.
"What happened?"
I rubbed the back of my neck.
"I got a phone call."
She waited.
"It was Brooke."
The color left her face.
"Oh."
"She's here."
"Here?"
"In town."
Sunshine looked toward Charlie.
Neither of us spoke for a long moment.
Finally she asked,
"What do you want to do?"
That was why I loved her.
Not What should we do?
Not Why now?
Not After everything?
Simply...
What do you want?
I looked through the doorway again.
Charlie was laughing.
Grace laughed with her.
Emma sat nearby reading one of the donated books to two younger children.
Life.
Messy.
Beautiful.
Complicated.
"I don't know."
Sunshine slipped her hand into mine.
"Then we don't have to decide today."
I looked at her.
"No."
"You don't."
She squeezed my hand gently.
"The rescue can still be the biggest thing that happened this week."
For the first time since answering the phone...
I smiled.
She was right.
Tomorrow would come soon enough.
And when it did...
The past would finally walk through the front door.