Chapter Seven ~ Fiona #2
After making the first couple of phone calls, I realize Mum was right about staying busy being a good thing.
I love talking to people on the phone, shooting the breeze in between business matters.
I even offer to work the counter for a bit so Regina, a young woman who has worked here for ages, can take a break.
I’m in my element dealing with people. Even in a town like Honeywell Hollow, where many of the residents who know me approach the counter with indifference and barely make eye contact as they order, I still feel better than I have the last few days sitting around the house and focusing on nothing but the hollow emptiness that’s taken up residence in my chest.
By mid-afternoon my stomach is rumbling. Despite the cinnamon roll at home and Aneesha’s delicious chocolate caramel cake mid-morning, I could go for some lunch. I find Mum in her office, clacking away at the keyboard of her computer.
“You ready to head home soon?” I ask.
She peers up at me from over the frames of her glasses. “I’m actually kind of in the zone right now, believe it or not. I hate to leave with this only partway done. You can head out if you want to, though.”
“I was thinking of going for a walk and maybe stopping for a slice at the pizzeria. Want anything?”
Mum’s focus is already back on the computer screen. “Regina said something about setting aside a ham and cheese sandwich for me, but I’ll get it in a few minutes. Thanks, honey.”
I grab my jacket from where I left it on the spare chair in Mum’s office, and head out into the brisk spring afternoon.
The sound of excited voices and laughter carries on the breeze from the direction of the playground at the nearby park.
I jog across the street and linger at the fence for a minute before going through the gate and finding an unoccupied bench off to the side.
I didn’t play here much as a kid since our backyard had a swing-and-slide set, plus the treehouse, but I’ve always loved watching kids play.
I’m lost in thought, smiling to myself as I watch a tiny girl chase an older boy, when a shadow falls over me.
My head snaps up, and my eyes meet Nathan’s.
Or at least I assume they do since his are covered by dark sunglasses.
My initial surprise at seeing him intensifies when he sits beside me.
Nathan Holbrook willingly sitting with me? I never thought I’d see the day.
“Isn’t it a little creepy to sit in a park and watch kids play when you don’t have a kid here yourself?” he asks.
I have to admit, I appreciate that he didn’t lead with a sympathetic comment or ask how I’m doing. My grief is ever present, and the constant reminders from others makes it worse. Of course Nathan would understand that, though. He’s grieving as much as I am.
“Says the childless guy sitting with me,” I say.
Nathan points toward a little girl in a rainbow jacket with a matching hat and rubber boots—an interesting fashion choice given the sun is shining, and there’s no rain in the forecast. As I watch, Rex sneaks up behind her and taps her on the shoulder.
There’s a beat of stillness before the pair take off, chasing each other around the playground, their laughter ringing through the air.
“The little girl is Billie,” Nathan says. “She and her parents moved in down the street from Thea and Rex at the beginning of the year. She’s about half Rex’s age, but they became friends immediately. He’s really good with her.”
I’m not surprised, considering what a sweet, thoughtful child Rex is.
He’s been surrounded by people who love him and dote on him since the minute he was born.
He has a lot of his Uncle Liam in him: he’s kind, patient, and loyal.
And even though Nathan isn’t related by blood, I see plenty of him in Rex’s personality and habits too.
“Thea will be around here somewhere,” Nathan says, inclining his chin toward the far side of the park.
A small pavilion has been built since I was last here, with rows of picnic tables underneath.
A group of parents and guardians are huddled around one of the tables, shooting the occasional glance at the kids.
The next time I catch sight of Rex, he’s playing with a trio of kids his own age.
Billie is easy to spot in her rainbow attire, and I watch her tear around the playground, singing to herself as she climbs a rope ladder, then flies down the slide.
She lands hard on her butt, barely pausing before hopping to her feet and rushing back to the rope ladder to do it all over again.
I chuckle to myself. Nathan glances at me, his brows raised in question. He pushes his sunglasses up to rest on top of his head, and my stomach drops slightly when I finally see those familiar blue-grey eyes.
“She’s a feisty one,” I say by way of explanation.
“That she is.” Instead of looking back at Billie, Nathan’s gaze remains on me. “Reminds me of a certain brown-eyed girl I used to know.”
He’s talking about me, I’m certain of it, but his use of the past tense throws me off. My brain wants to go into analytic mode, but I tell it to shut up. “I bet she’s still feisty, this brown-eyed girl you used to know.”
His lips twist slightly. I’m not sure I’d call it a smile, not exactly. Whatever it is remains on his lips as he returns his attention to the playground.
Silence falls between us. We used to be able to talk for hours, or alternately, go for ages sitting together in silence, enjoying each other’s company without feeling the need to fill the spaces.
Now my skin tingles with an odd mixture of discomfort and awareness.
I can’t remember the last time it was just the two of us like this.
Well, that’s not entirely true; we were alone together in a hotel room last December during a snowstorm. The things that happened in that room were the choices of two consenting adults, but the regret was immediate. At least for Nathan.
My mind races to come up with potential safe topics.
In the years since I left Honeywell, Nathan has alternated between being downright hostile—snarky comments and digs, defensive behaviour—and aloof, acting as if we didn’t have years of complex history and weren’t once the centre of each other’s world.
I’m sure he would have preferred to avoid me whenever I was in town for a visit, but with his close ties to my parents, not to mention the proximity of our houses, it was difficult.
I’m shocked he’s not avoiding me now, especially since we don’t have the usual buffer of Liam, Rex, or my parents.
“I love watching little kids play.” I don’t know why my brain chose those words, but they’re out now, and Nathan is giving me curious side-eye, so I go on.
“Whenever I’m anywhere for a few days or more, I usually end up in a park or playground.
No matter where I go, even when I don’t understand a word of the language, the act of playing feels like a universal language.
I love how kids live in the moment, like nothing else exists.
They have no idea there’s a big, wide world out there beyond their small playground or their home or their school, just waiting to be discovered. ”
Nathan remains silent. He’s watching Billie, who appears to be jumping in imaginary puddles. Guess that explains the rubber boots.
“You always knew, though, didn’t you?” His voice is soft when he finally speaks. From his tone, I know I’ve inadvertently said something wrong, and we’re about to be back in familiar territory.
“Knew what?” I ask tentatively.
Nathan meets my gaze. He doesn’t school his face fast enough for me to miss the hurt swirling in his eyes.
It’s gone almost instantly, replaced by that flat expression I’ve come to expect from him.
“That there was more to life. More than this playground, or our school, or your home, or your family.” He pauses.
“More than me. You always knew, and you couldn’t wait to get out of here and start living your life. ”
His voice remains quiet as he speaks, but he might as well have shouted in my face.
My heart lurches before it picks up speed, slamming against my ribcage.
“You know, this is why I learned to keep my mouth shut around you. You take everything I say and twist it to make it sound like I’m a horrible person for having big dreams and daring to pursue them.
You seem hellbent on finding fault with me, no matter what I say or do. ”
I don’t need this shit, and I don’t have to tolerate it, regardless of my history with Nathan or all he’s done for my parents.
I hop off the bench and stride away, needing to put as much distance between us as possible.
I’m almost to the gate when strong fingers wrap around my wrist, pulling me to a stop.
I shoot a glare over my shoulder, and Nathan drops his hold quickly, as if he’s been burned.
“I’m sorry, Fiona.” He holds up his hands and takes a step back.
“I didn’t mean it. Every time I think I’m over what happened, all it takes is seeing you again, and all these old feelings rush to the surface.
Except instead of the happy, fun memories, the ones from when we were best friends and then more.
..” He trails off, crossing his arms over his chest, and lowering his gaze to the ground.
“I just remember the anger and hurt. And I can’t seem to hold it in, even when I try. ”