Chapter 1 #3
“I don’t know about failing miserably. Struggling yes.
But aren’t we all?” Adrienne took a deep breath, deciding how much to let him know.
Her grief didn’t measure up to his. Losing a spouse was surely more horrific than losing one's parents. But it wasn’t like they were playing grief wars - in a sense, it was all similar, right?
She sighed. “This is the hard part of grief, you know? I can’t just say ‘I know how you feel’ because I don’t.
I only know how I feel, and then I think, maybe if I explain how I feel then you can go ‘yeah, that’s similar to how I feel - you get it!
’ And then yet sometimes the other person goes ‘oh, so now you’re making this all about you instead?
’ It’s such a rough topic, impossible to sufficiently empathize because somehow no matter what, it seems like it won’t be right and in the end it will truly never be enough.
” She paused and gently patted the hand that had taken an ornament off the tree.
“So that was my long way of saying ‘I don’t get it, but I do get some things, I feel for you and just let me know if there’s something I can do. ’”
He blinked at her, then slowly cracked a smile. “I can see now why you’re a writer.”
Adrienne laughed. “Why, because without an editor, I ramble on uncomprehendingly and never shut up?”
His head bowed a bit but the small smile stayed there. “No. It’s because you can see. Some day you’ll work it out to be just the right thing, just the right way to say it. But you know how to get what you feel across. Regardless of the rambling.”
Adrienne flushed. “Well…thank you?”
He nodded. “And…I’m sorry for whatever you’re going through too. You let me know if I can help you somehow.”
She gave a small sniff and looked up at the tree.
“Maybe we can help each other. I really need to re-discover Christmas. I sure could use some of that childhood wonder of Miss Ava’s.
She might enjoy someone to do something with.
Would you allow us to decorate your main lobby area?
Just let us work on cheering the place up?
” She stopped at the look on his face and wondered if she’d said the completely wrong thing. “Or not. It was just an idea.”
He slowly shook his head, then nodded. “No. I mean. Yes.” He inhaled, looking confused. “I’m trying to say that would be great. I’m sure that Ava would really appreciate that.”
“Are you sure that wouldn’t hurt you? I don’t want to hurt you.”
He looked back at her tree and put the ornament back on it. “If it hurts, it will be a good hurt. Our decoration storage room is yours to do with as you please.” With that, he gave her a small smile, a nod and he fled out of her cabin.
Adrienne locked the door behind him, watching his retreating back. This vacation was turning out much differently than she’d expected.
It was a new morning and she was enamored with the view from the spot where her rocker was on the porch.
The snow capped mountains were the things of dreams and while she felt like she should be cold, somehow the weather was just right.
40 degrees, according to her weather app, and with the still air and the warm sun, it was perfect. If only she felt perfect.
The Christmas spirit in her was slowly trying to spark, though.
She had a date with Ava in a few hours to commence ‘Operation Christmas,’ as the girl had dubbed it earlier that morning.
Running off to have breakfast when Ethan had called to her, she had promised to spend the morning drawing up all sorts of decoration plans, so that they wouldn’t be flying blind.
Adrienne had intended to write in the meantime but the words still eluded her, no matter how many tricks she tried to use.
The characters that she knew like the back of her hand, were silent.
Silent as the voice she missed so desperately.
The voice that would know exactly how to spur her into action.
The voice she would never hear again. So she’d given up, setting her laptop on the side table, letting herself turn to the grief she felt.
And of course that’s when Ethan approached. She wiped her eyes and hoped he didn’t notice. Hoped he was heading to the honeymooner cabin instead. Hoped he didn’t pause to say hello.
But he did, of course. One look at her stopped the words that were about to come out of his mouth, and instead he sat in the rocker next to her, quietly looking forward, but not actually interrupting her.
She was able to get her emotions under control because of this and she was grateful.
When she looked over at him, he smiled at her.
A sad smile, an understanding one, but he still didn’t speak.
And maybe he did understand, she thought. It was worth a try.
Gathering the courage, she asked, “You know, they all say that when someone’s gone, they’re not really gone. That there’s a piece of them always with you. Have you noticed that? Does that come with time? Or is that just another thing that they say, that’s full of bullshit?”
Ethan gave a small laugh at that, but pondered her question seriously.
Eventually he spoke. “I guess it depends on how you think about it. I mean…I have Ava, but that’s not exactly what you mean, I don’t think.
” Adrienne shook her head. Ethan took a deep breath.
“I keep hoping those people, they, will be right some time. I can’t say that they’re wrong.
I can only say that for myself, no, I haven’t felt her.
But maybe that’s because I keep refusing to process the loss.
I always wonder at Ava, and how she’s managed to rebuild her life and stay vibrant while I… I still can’t even think about it.”
Adrienne let out a sigh of her own. “Well, darn. And here I was hoping you’d have all the insights for me.”
He gave a small laugh. “I’m a hotelier, not a grief therapist.”
“Fair.” She grinned at what she assumed was a Star Trek reference.
There was a silence between them again and she was surprised that she didn’t feel awkward around him with the silence. “Feel free not to answer, because it’s certainly none of my business but…it seems you have possibly experienced loss recently yourself?”
She was surprised that Ava hadn’t told him, and nodded.
“My parents. There was a car accident earlier this year. My mother, she died on impact. My father hung on longer, but only long enough that we were able to say goodbye. The injuries were too great. Honestly, I was lucky he was coherent for as long as he was.”
Ethan frowned in empathy. “That’s rough.”
“I was an only child and we all lived together. As you know, I’m a writer.
What I didn’t mention is that my father and I, we were co-authors together.
We hadn’t finished plotting our next novel in the series when he passed and it’s due soon.
The publisher’s expecting it and I know I can get it to them on time if I can just…
figure it out. I usually do great with deadlines.
But I can’t this time. It’s all gone.” Adrienne took a deep breath and continued to ramble.
“It’s not a total block. I can write, I just can’t write our characters.
Every time I pick up a pen, or bring out the keyboard, all that comes out are words that speak of loss and that’s just not where our characters are at.
We’ve written such light hearted people that everyone loves and I can’t just toss them into a situation like this and have it be anything but weird. ”
“And they won’t let you write anything else? No way to negotiate a different story? Forgive me, I know nothing about the publishing industry.”
Adrienne let out a panicked sob. “I don’t know.
I don’t even know how to ask. What if they cancel our contract?
What if they think that without him, I can’t keep going?
I can’t have that. I can’t ruin his legacy, his life’s work just because I can’t think of what to write.
” Adrienne smacked the side of her head, as though she could somehow jar something out.
Then there were hands, holding onto hers firmly, and a pair of eyes boring holes into her own.
“Hey. It will be ok, Adrienne. You need to give yourself some grace. You can’t just pick up and keep functioning like you always have after a loss like that.
You’re going to have some rough times. And that’s ok. ”
The hands were calming, as were the eyes, and she looked into them, letting them center her. A calm washed over her and she took a shaky breath, trying to ignore the fact she felt tears and snot on her face.
“What about you? Have you given yourself grace?” she asked quietly.
He dropped her hands at this, and let his gaze fall to the ground. “I don’t know. I’ve either given myself none or too much. How can you tell?” He let out a hollow laugh.
“It’s always easier to see someone else than yourself, I know that one well.”
“Doesn’t make the wisdom any less true.”
“It doesn’t. Maybe just makes you a little more human.”
“Well, that’s me. I’m definitely human. I bleed, I cry and I mess up every time I turn around.”
“Maybe not every time,” she sniffled. “I mean…you are helping one of your customers through a trauma.”
“Probably not gonna add that to the website of amenities.”
“Good call.”
They sat there in silence again, Ethan silently passing her a package of tissues. She accepted it and took care of her running nose. “This is a nice amenity though.”
Ethan barked a genuine laugh. “Honestly, I just started carrying these travel ones because I swear, Ava’s nose runs like crazy all the time. If it’s not because of the cold, it’s because of allergies.”
“My Mom was like that. Everyone would get killed with allergies in spring, and she did too, but what was really bad, was her fall and winter allergies. Most people don’t even know that’s a thing.”
“Makes it rough in the cold and flu season, for sure. Never know which it is.”
“Yep.”
They sat there and watched the wonder of nature in silence. A fox ran by, and a pair of birds were perched on a branch, happily chirping. “We have all this grief inside us, Ethan. How do we move forward?”
He took a deep breath. “I’ll help you if you help me?”
“Deal.” She turned and looked at him, peering at him, wondering what she would suggest for him.
“Ok, my idea for you is, write.”
She blinked at his immediate, and seemingly pointless, suggestion. “Really?”
He nodded solemnly, ignoring her tone. “Yes, but write what you want. Write what you feel. Forget the deadlines. Don’t worry about your characters.
If you want to write them into the situations you say you can’t, then do it anyway.
If you need new ones, make new ones. But get it out.
Even if you never publish it, even if no one ever sees it, just get it out and see where it goes from there. ”
She blinked and nodded slowly, realizing that was one trick she hadn’t tried yet. “Ok. I can try that.”
“Good. Now, what about me?” He feigned a look of terror, but she saw the true wariness underneath his joking exterior.
The answer was easier than she’d thought, as the writer in her came out to play. “Talk about your wife. I mean, really talk about her. I think that might really help you cope.”
His eye twitched. “I can’t talk about her to Ava.” Oh great, now he was panicking. “What if I lose it? I can’t have her see me crumple at this.”
Adrienne gestured to where they were sitting. “You could talk to me? I mean, pick anyone really, but if you don’t have anyone else, talk to me. I’m a writer. Not that I’d write about what you tell me, but my ear is always open for stories, thoughts, memories. I always enjoy hearing them.”
His jaw worked a bit and he bit his lip. “Ava’s grandparents are coming up here in two days. She’s not leaving with them until the next day, but I’m sure they want to do dinner with her.”
“Just with her? Not with you?”
He shifted uncomfortably. “I just make everything awkward. Probably better if I just let them have their evening. Would you be interested in dinner? We can touch base on your writing and I can talk to you?”
“That sounds lovely. Although, you sure don’t give a girl a lot of time to write. Two days. And I have to decorate somewhere in there too!”
“Hey, I hear you do well with deadlines.” He teased her.
“Yeah, I do.” She admitted. Just not the one that was important right now.
“Ms. CROFT!” Ava yelled as she came barreling towards them, waving some papers. “I HAVE ALL THE PLANS!”
Adrienne handed Ethan back his tissues and put on her brave face. “You do??? Well let’s see them!”
As Ava approached with all the energy of a tornado, prattling about starting with the outside entrance, Ethan quietly slipped away. Ava didn’t seem to notice, but Adrienne looked behind the excited little girl to watch the retreating back. She hoped he would be ok today.