Chapter 37
CHARGING STATIONS
Sera
Iswear, the moment I admit to Thane that I want to give our relationship another chance, he flips into “boyfriend mode.” The fireworks that night are rained out, so we spend the evening watching My Best Friend’s Wedding in the loft while everyone else plays games downstairs.
It’s cathartic for so many reasons. Not just because I haven’t been able to watch that movie since he left, but also because I’ve forgotten just how amazing it is to be wrapped in his arms. Every inch of my body that can be touching his wants to be.
Lying on that old leather couch with my head on Thane’s chest brings me back to life.
My eyes are watching Julia Roberts wreak havoc in a bridesmaid dress, but the rest of me is falling asleep to the lullaby of Thane’s heartbeat in my ear.
It doesn’t help that he absent-mindedly draws circles on my back and arm while I lie next to him.
Before I know it, my eyelids are made of lead and I’m falling asleep.
It’s not until the next morning that I realize that he has fallen asleep as well, because when I wake up—stiff as all get-out but happy as a clam—someone has thrown a blanket over us and turned off the TV.
And the best part is: this time, we don’t have to hide our relationship from our families.
I stir, trying my best to extract myself from Thane’s arms without waking him.
But the moment I move, his brown eyes flutter open.
I am not nearly as prepared as I need to be to be exposed to “morning Thane.” Although I’ve seen him a hundred times first thing in the morning, he’s different today.
His messy hair and sleepy, content smile make me want to wake up like this for the rest of my life.
“Hi,” he says in his cracky, morning voice.
“Hi yourself,” I reply quietly, snuggling back into position. “I’m pretty sure my neck has stiffened into this position permanently.”
A happy hum reverberates from his chest and he kisses the top of my head. I decide right there that this is my new home and I’m moving in immediately.
“Thane and Sera!” Mrs. Donnelly yells from the kitchen below us. “Breakfast is getting cold!”
I stir again and he holds me tighter. “Just a few more minutes,” he begs.
“Aren’t you hungry?” I ask, and as if on cue his stomach growls. “See? Even your body knows it’s time to get up.”
“Don’t listen to it. All it ever wants is food,” Thane says, covering my ears.
I laugh. “What about your bladder? Don’t you have to pee?”
He shrugs. “Maybe. But no one has ever died from an exploding bladder. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”
I playfully smack his arm and pry myself from him, immediately feeling cold where our bodies used to touch. I roll my neck to release some tension and stretch my arms above my head.
“Well, peeing my pants in front of you is not on my list of things to do to reconnect,” I say with a laugh, and stand up.
He raises an eyebrow and smiles, tucking one hand underneath his head. It’s a glowing invitation to ignore my own full bladder and crawl right back next to him, and I almost give in.
“I’m intrigued, Pidge. What is on that list?”
I walk toward the bathroom and peek back through the door just before I close it.
“Skipping rocks,” I reply, and the smile he gives me in response tells me we are on the same page.
When we wander downstairs to breakfast, every pair of eyes turns to us like a dozen tiny spotlights. I fight my ever-increasing urge to smile.
“What?” I ask, knowing full well what their stares mean.
“Oh, nothing,” my mom says nonchalantly, then grins at me. “How’d you sleep?”
I sigh and look over at Thane for backup. He’s grinning like a fool, so I know he’ll be no help.
“All right, just get it out now,” I say, throwing my arms up in surrender.
Our moms respond with matching squeals, and my dad peeks over the corner of his newspaper.
The corner of his mouth twitches upward before he hides back behind the business section.
Mr. Donnelly stumbles in from the back patio making dinosaur noises with one toddler hanging off his back and one clinging to his leg.
He stops, trying to read the room before asking, “What’d I miss? ”
“Everything!” Vivian answers.
I feel a rush of heat climb my neck and settle in my cheeks. Thane’s pinky finger brushes mine, and I smile before lacing into his.
Hank’s focus goes from his wife to our hands and he smiles. “Oh!” he exclaims, peeling toddlers from his body. “Looks like your little plan worked.”
“I knew it!” I laugh, pointing an accusing finger at our mothers.
“Well, somebody had to do something to get this ball rolling again,” Vivian says, hugging my mom, and they both laugh.
I shake my head and grab a plate.
I didn’t originally have “being pressed up against a tree in the woods while Thane kisses the ever-loving crap out of me” on my vacation bingo card, but I am here.
for. it! The truth is, it hasn’t been easy to reprogram my default setting to be open-hearted.
I find myself resisting his kind gestures, and I have to remind myself that it’s okay to open old wounds if it means that they’ll finally heal properly.
The only way I can truly let Thane in is by jumping in—even if I can’t go headfirst. So I go slowly and dip in my toes.
The kissing definitely helps.
At the beginning of all this, I thought re-doing some of our old traditions and memories together would hurt too much.
But the truth is, I get to replace them with new memories attached to hope, and not despair.
Confronting that pain is difficult, but it’s the best thing I’ve done to heal.
It’s the only way I’ll completely heal. It’s messy and it hurts around the edges, but clearing out the painful memories is exactly what both of us need.
The more I open up to that scary unknown, the more I can see how good it is for my heart.
And I’m grateful I’m finally at this point.
I stand at the kitchen sink doing dishes after breakfast while the men and boys pack up their gear and load up the boat.
It’s their tradition: the dads make everyone breakfast burritos, then all the guys put the “big boy toys” in the boat and disappear for a few hours to play.
They always come back grinning from ear to ear, a bit crispy from the sunshine, and full of stories from their shenanigans.
I think it’s the day my dad loves the most, because he finally gets to let his hair—or what’s left of it—down.
While the men go boating, the women go shopping.
We spend the day wandering the quaint boutiques and shops in town, go to lunch, and pamper ourselves with pedicures.
That’s usually one of my favorite days as well, but this year, my social battery is so drained, I’m kind of dreading being out all day.
What I’d really love is some peace and quiet, and some quality time with my book.
I stare outside at my hammock longingly and sigh.
Thane strides through the kitchen in a Bluey swimsuit and a towel thrown over one shoulder.
He pauses as he passes me, and leans into my body.
“You need some quiet time, don’t you?” he asks gently.
I nod.
“Well, I heard Emma saying to Kevin that she wasn’t going shopping because the twins need a nap. He offered to stay, but she said it was fine.”
My eyes snap up to his as a lightbulb goes off in my mind. “Really?”
“Really. Do with that information what you will,” he says with a wink and kisses the top of my head.
I put the last dish in the drying rack and run upstairs to volunteer as tribute.
“Hey, Emma,” I say as she wrestles her two-year-old into a diaper. “I’d be happy to stay behind while the twins nap if you’d like to go to town with everyone.”
“Oh, that’s okay. I don’t want to put you out.”
“No, really. I’d like to stay home, and this would be the perfect excuse.”
Her eyes light up. “Really? You don’t want to go?”
“I’m just a little tired today and would love to rest instead. Plus, you’re a busy mom running a dental practice. You need the break more than I do.”
“You’re a lifesaver, thank you!” she says. “I’ll put them down, and they usually sleep for a few hours now that they only nap once a day. When they wake up, call me and I’ll come back.”
I want to pump my fist and yell, “Yes!” But I settle for a more subtle, “Sounds great, thanks!” instead.
Thirty minutes later, I wave at the doorway as the ladies drive away, and skip gleefully to the silent kitchen. That’s when I spot the note on the counter with my name on it. I open it cautiously, hoping it’s not a “To-Do” list from my mom. But what I find instead is Thane’s handwriting.
Fina,
I know that you’re dying for some solitude, so I’ve set up some ‘charging stations’ around the house to help you recharge your battery. Your first treat is in the pantry.
Happy relaxing!
—Thane
I squeal and run to the pantry. Inside, on a shelf at eye level, is a fresh pack of Oreos and a new bag of Cheetos with a sticky note on the front.
Drinks are in the fridge.
I gather up the treats and head to the fridge, where I find a bottle of Cherry Pepsi, a pint of milk, and another note.
Check the freezer.
I open the freezer drawer and find a bar of my favorite dark chocolate. I smile and shake my head as I read another sticky note.
For when you need to cool down.
Your paradise awaits on the patio.
I leave the Cheetos on the counter and the chocolate in the freezer, pour a mug of milk, grab a stack of Oreos, and scurry outside.
My hammock has been freshly fluffed with a patio pillow and lined with a clean towel. My book sits on my stump table with a smooth, flat skipping rock on top of it. I stop in my tracks as the tears sting my eyes. The Oreo I’m dunking blurs, and I blink to clear my vision.
He did all this for me. Just because.
I wish he were still here so I could wrap my arms around him and tell him how grateful I am, but that will have to wait until he comes back later today.
I sigh happily and tuck the rock into the pocket of my cutoffs.
In the meantime, I settle into the hammock to take full advantage of the amazing setup he made for me.
I open my book to find one more sticky note inside. This one makes me smile the biggest.
No book boyfriend will ever feel about you the way I do. Not even Mr. Darcy.
I giggle and clutch my book to my chest. The old Sera—who watched Thane leave without a word—weeps with joy inside me.
After all these years, I am finally at peace with why he left.
And better still, I have my unanswered questions resolved.
I know that it may take a while still to disassemble the walls I’ve built to protect myself, but I’m at a place where I can step back and let them fall into disarray.
My reading time is a good, solid hour and a half—which isn’t long enough when the book is good—but when the twins start to fuss on the baby monitor, I shoot Emma a text and go rescue them from their cribs.
After the women come back, I pull out the flour, sugar, eggs, and butter, and I bake Thane’s favorite cookies. The scent of cinnamon and sugar wafts through the air as I pull out the last pan of snickerdoodles, and when he walks through the door sunburned and smiling, his eyes sparkle.
“You made my favorite cookies.”
“You did a lot more than that for me. Thank you,” I reply, wiping my hands on a towel.
“You’re welcome. Did you get a good recharge?”
“I’m back to one hundred percent.” I round the counter and wrap my arms around him.
He responds by wrapping one arm around me, and with the other, he grabs a couple of warm cookies.
“I haven’t had these in years! Thank you,” he says, giving me a squeeze before heading to the fridge for the milk. He moves to a barstool with his plunder and lays everything out on a paper towel.
“Keep spoiling me with the whole ‘charging station’ thing, and soon I’ll be baking you banana bread.”
His eyebrow quirks. “Banana bread is intimate, Fina. Are you sure you’re ready for that?” he teases.
I lean an elbow on the bar next to him and close the gap between us. My eyes rake down his face until they linger on his lips. I kiss the cinnamon and sugar off of them slowly, then respond: “The question is, are you?”
His focus locks on me. He chews and swallows his cookie in slow motion and stutters, “Mmm-hmmm.”
I stay too close and watch the gears in his mind fall off their rhythm and self-destruct. I flash him the flirtiest, sexiest smile I can muster, then walk away.
“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” I say over my shoulder. “I’m going for a swim.”
He shoves the rest of one cookie into his mouth, downs the milk, and runs out after me.
“Me too!” he yells to no one and chases me to the dock.