Chapter 12 #2
“‘Right now,’” I continue with a catch in my voice, “‘I’m sitting alone in my room, my body wasting away, and I’ve realized how much time I spent feeling guilty.
So much time lost when I could have been happy and living and loving and learning.
Instead, I stoked the guilt, kept it simmering inside me as both punishment and reminder that I was still alive.
That fueled me to help my clients even when I couldn’t face my own post-traumatic stress. ’”
Holly wipes an eye. “I had no idea she felt this way.”
“I wish she would have talked about this with us,” I say, wondering exactly what had held Zoe back. Why she felt she couldn’t be open with us, if not with me, then at least with Holly. I know they talked, especially since Holly wasn’t talking to me.
But she obviously kept us both in the dark.
Unless she couldn’t talk to us.
Leo still hasn’t replied to the text I sent two days ago about Zoe’s last letter. I want him to explain why he never mentioned Zoe had leukemia before we met her in college.
The knowledge wouldn’t have changed how we felt about our friend. But we might have been more attuned to her, and picked up on her sickness sooner, like before she told me in Greece and then Holly after we’d returned home.
That trip would have been so different if I’d known. The Incident would never have happened. Holly wouldn’t have left Greece when she did. And we could have been there for Zoe during her final days, together.
I could call Leo again, let myself fall into that comfortable space we’ve been existing in since losing Zoe.
Get an explanation from him. But I shouldn’t, not now.
Zoe needs us to heal this rift, and if I let myself get distracted by Leo, I’ll lose focus on what really matters.
Fixing things with Holly for Zoe. Always for Zoe.
“Anna?” Holly watches me with impatience.
“Yeah, sorry.” I clear my throat and resume.
“‘When I was at my lowest, you were there for me. You made my life better. You brought color to my gray, light to my darkness. You gifted me a lifetime of memories during the short time I had the honor of being your friend. Thank you doesn’t come close to what I want to express.
I just hope I can leave little reminders as to how much you both meant to me.
“‘Scatter my ashes in the vineyard. The next time you visit Chateau Lavigne together (and I have high hopes you will be back), you’ll know that I’m here with you.
And when you scatter me, make a promise.
Promise you’ll let go of your guilt and forgive each other.
If it’s too early to say out loud, say it to yourselves. And keep on saying it, over and over.
“‘Don’t forget me. Kisses and hugs, Z.’”
Holly looks away, guarding her emotions. Shutting me out again.
I tuck Zoe’s letter in the envelope and peek at Holly under damp lashes.
She’s watching the winery staff set up for tonight’s event under a large white canopy on the estate’s sprawling lawn.
White-clothed tables topped with peony and hydrangea arrangements fill the space underneath.
Twinkle lights drape from the ceiling and gauzy panels flutter in the light breeze.
The space looks magical. I can almost picture Zoe planning something similar for her wedding reception if she’d been given more time.
To meet her person. To get married. To live.
“Well.” Holly claps her hands on her lap. “That was depressing.” She finishes off her wine and abruptly stands. “The Pinot vines are over there. That’s where we’ll scatter her ashes.” She points across the lawn beyond the canopy and quickly walks in that direction.
I tuck Zoe under my arm and do my best to catch up, my spike heels no match for her sensible flats.
I veer toward the dance floor under the tent. It’ll be much easier to walk across.
Holly looks back to see if I’m keeping up and notices where I’m headed. Her eyes widen dramatically. “What are you doing?”
“I can’t walk in these shoes.” I point toward the dance floor to show her what I have in mind.
“Then take them off,” she hisses. “You’re drawing attention.”
She’s right. Several of the staff setting up chairs have noticed us.
Grumbling, I stop abruptly at a table and lift my right foot to remove a shoe.
But my left heel sinks further into the grass, throwing me off balance.
Stumbling, I tighten my hold on the urn and grab at the table only to end up with a fistful of tablecloth.
I go down hard, pulling the tablecloth with me.
The centerpiece arrangement slides swiftly across the surface.
Holly gasps. With reflexes only a mother possesses, she lunges for the flowers, snagging the vase before it topples onto my head.
Someone hollers and runs over to check on us. His face appears above me and a bolt of heat flushes through me.
He. Is. Gorgeous.
And I’m sprawled on the ground with my skirt around my waist, white panties with gold lace trim in full view, clutching Zoe like a football. My cheeks flame hot. Holly’s are just as bright. She scowls down at me.
So much for not attracting attention.
“Are you good?” Sexy Guy extends a hand, helping me to my feet.
“I’m fine.” Ducking my face, I brush off my skirt and remove my other shoe. I can’t meet his gaze. “Sorry about the table.”
“No problem. Your friend saved the day.” He smiles at Holly and takes the vase from her.
I risk a glance at her. “Thank you.” She spared me from ruining some lovely couple’s rehearsal dinner, assuming that’s what’s happening here tonight.
Shoulders rigid, she averts her gaze. “You’re welcome.”
“Need help with those?” Sexy Guy asks, winking at me and motioning to my shoes, the straps looped over my fingers.
“No, thank you,” Holly says, taking the urn and marching off.
“Holly?” I stop at the No Visitors Beyond this Point sign, but she waves for me to keep following. The late-afternoon sun casts long shadows between the vine rows, and the day’s warmth still radiates up from the packed dirt.
“This is a good spot.” She stops several vines into a row.
“How should we do this?” I ask, since she’s clearly taken the lead. “We don’t have a cup.” Marco saved us in Mexico.
Holly reaches into her oversized bag and pulls out a small measuring cup. The translucent purple plastic glows amber in the golden hour light. “I bought a bottle of children’s cold medicine so we’d have this.”
Of course she did.
I tamp down my uneasiness and screw off the top of the urn. Holly carefully, cautiously, measures a dose of Zoe.
I touch her hand before she flings our friend. “We’re supposed to release our guilt. Zoe’s orders.”
Holly’s mouth pinches. She’s reluctant to do this part and I almost feel sorry for her. Almost.
“I’ll go first,” I say, my breath coming fast, hoping this is what Zoe had in mind. “I’m sorry about Jack. I shouldn’t have brought up his name in front of Henri without asking you first in private.”
“I’m sorry I’ve been short-tempered.”
A smile nudges my lips up. “I forgive you.”
“I forgive you, too.”
My heart swells. I open my mouth to apologize for the gazillionth time for Greece but Holly doesn’t give me the chance. She scatters Zoe like she’s sifting flour. With little shakes of Holly’s wrist, Zoe dusts the soil.
“Bye, Z.”
“Goodbye, Zoe,” I whisper, a little piece of me aching from letting more of her go.
Holly wipes her eyes. She slips the measuring cup into a Ziplock and dumps it into her bag.
We’re done? It seems wrong that we did this so quickly. Shouldn’t we say more? It’s not like there are people clambering up a rock behind us this time.
I’m about to suggest we say a few more words about Zoe when Holly announces with enough finality that I know there will be no changing her mind, “We should check in.”
“What? Right. Okay.” That’s it, I guess.
I follow her back to the car, treading carefully across the grass and gravel in bare feet. My phone pings with Leo’s special tone.
Finally.
I read his text.
We had our reasons. Talk later.
What reasons?
I type back: Talk when?
I stop where the lawn meets the parking lot and wait for his bubbles.
I’m about to ring him when they don’t immediately appear, but Holly calls over her shoulder, “Are you coming?” She sees me on my phone and scowls.
One more mark against me.
I put it away and jog to catch up. I’ll deal with Leo, his secrets, and my heart later.