Chapter 11
Maple
I had parked at the fall festival venue and was walking toward the community service wall in the early evening, when I heard a voice coming from the other side of the wall that stopped me cold.
Cade? What was he doing at River’s Community Service Project?
I walked faster and turned the corner.
There they were.
Cade was crouched down next to a paint tray, showing River how to mix the paint.
River was leaning over, watching his hands carefully.
Cade said something I couldn’t hear from where I was standing, and River laughed — a real laugh, head back, the one that used to come easily when he was younger — and then River raised both hands toward the wall and started gesturing, drawing something invisible in the air, explaining something with his whole body.
I stood there for a second and just watched.
River saw me first. He waved and grinned. Cade turned around.
And then he smiled.
Truth be told, his smile still had the power to short circuit my brain for just a second.
It was the most genuinely beautiful smile I had seen on a man.
Of course, I was not going to let that wash away the hurt he caused.
Just pointing it out, because, well, I don’t know why.
The smile was never the problem. The problem was everything that came out of his mouth when he wasn’t smiling.
As soon as I walked over to them, River came at me and hugged me.
Just walked right up and wrapped his arms around me like he used to do when he’d see me after school every day when he was younger. Over his shoulder, I could see Cade watching us with that smile still on his face.
River let go.
“So,” I said, looking at the wall behind them. “This is the wall.”
“Yeah,” River smiled.
I looked at it. It was bad. The graffiti was layered and colorful and hideous. I looked at the location — right next to the fall festival venue. Explains why the community service people needed this done right away. Cade walked over to us.
“Hey Maple!” he said.
“Hey. What are you doing here?” I asked, genuinely surprised. He never mentioned coming to meet River after the dance rehearsals. Was he going behind my back to cozy up to my brother and get him on his good books?
Cade opened his mouth to reply, but River jumped in. “When I got here today, Cade was already here for some other meeting.”
I looked at Cade.
“I had some stuff to sort out with the fall festival coordinator,” Cade said. “Sponsorship things. I didn’t know River was assigned to this wall until I got here and saw him.”
“And then,” River continued, cutting Cade off, “we started talking about the wall, like what it even looks like, and what were we even thinking when we tagged it, and what I was going to do with it, and I started saying how it would be cool if instead of just painting it one color, I could actually — Maple, what if I painted a mural?”
I looked at him, not realizing my mouth was open in surprise. Since when did River get so excited about a punishment?
“A real mural, River,” he said. “Like, an actual one. Of the fall foliage. The maple trees, the covered bridge, the festival. All of it.” He pointed at different sections of the wall. “The tree line here, the bridge in the middle, and then the festival lights along the bottom.”
He looked at me. “Cade talked to the coordinator right away, and he said yes.”
I met Cade’s eyes.
What was happening?
“The coordinator was very open to it,” Cade said.
He kept his voice easy, like it was nothing, like he hadn’t just turned River’s community service from a punishment into something River would remember.
“A mural is better for the wall long-term anyway. And River’s vision for it is—“ He paused. “It’s really good, Maple.”
“It’s only because of Cade that the coordinator even said yes to the mural idea,” River said. He looked at Cade like he had personally hung the moon. “And he’s also going to help me with the proportions. Like, how to actually scale the images properly on a wall this big.”
“It’s just construction basics,” Cade said, with a shrug. “That was the least I could do.”
“Of the four of us who got in trouble,” River continued, turning back to me, “me and Brody got assigned to this wall. The other two—“ He jerked his thumb over his shoulder.
I looked around.
On the other side of the venue, two boys were moving through the grounds with large black trash bags, picking up leaves and litter. One of them was Noah Walker, which gave me a very weird sense of satisfaction.
“We start the actual mural tomorrow.” River continued. “But tonight I want to get the base coat on so we have a clean surface.” He held up the paintbrush. “Cade showed me how to mix it so it covers the graffiti properly.”
River gave Cade a grin — genuine and completely unselfconscious — and then looked back at me.
“I’ll be over there working if you need me,” he said, already moving toward the paint tray. He walked away and picked up his brush and got to work.
Cade and I stepped back. We stood side by side watching River paint.
“I haven’t seen him like this,” I said, “In a long time.”
“I know.” Cade kept his eyes on River. “There’s a spark in him today that I hadn’t seen before either.” He was quiet for a second. “Maybe Aurelia Maplewood, Keeper of the Autumn Leaves, really does exist. Maybe she sent me to the community center at exactly the right time so I wouldn’t miss it.”
We stood in silence for a moment. It was not an uncomfortable silence. That was the thing with Cade. Even now, even after everything, the silences with him had never been uncomfortable. They had always felt like a place where both of us were just allowed to be.
I hated that.
“Why are you doing all of this?” I said.
He didn’t answer right away.
“I mean it,” I said. “It’s all very sweet of you, Cade, all of it. But I don’t want to mislead you. I don’t think I can look past what I heard that night. I really can’t.”
“I know,” he said.
“Then why—“
“Because there’s a lot I regret,” he said. “A lot I would do differently. A lot I wish you’d give me a second chance to make right.”
I looked at River’s back. The brush moving across the wall, steady and sure.
“Cade, I heard you call me nothing more than a great fuck.” I stopped.
Kept my voice low. “You said I was good under the sheets and that’s where I belonged.
You were stringing me along for three months while I was getting serious about you.
” I turned to look at him. “That was just three weeks ago. What changed? And I’m supposed to believe that you had a complete turn around in that time? ”
“Being without you and River,” he said immediately.
“I may have been slow to catch up with what I had done. But my heart figured it out the moment I sent you that first text and saw you read it and not respond.” He paused.
“In that split second, Maple. My heart sank. I didn’t even fully understand what had happened yet but I could already feel the loss. ”
I kept my eyes on River.
“That first week without you was the longest week of my life,” he said.
“I’d come to the studio after work every evening and stand outside and look at the closed door and the lights on in the empty studio and feel — I was angry at you for not answering and scared at the same time that you were slipping away from me.
And in that one week, I realized I didn’t care about my parents’ perception.
I didn’t care about the Sonnenberg world and what it would or wouldn’t accept. ” He paused. “I just cared about you.”
I didn’t say anything.
“The words you heard,” he said. “They were my words. I was a colossal dick for saying them and I’m not going to make excuses about being drunk or being pushed into it.
But I think — I know — that every word came from fear.
Fear that you wouldn’t fit into my parents’ world.
Fear of what they’d say, what they’d think.
” He shook his head. “And then you were gone, and I realized I didn’t care about any of that. ”
He took a long breath.
“I realized that I love you. It was like someone literally pulled the veil of societal pressures and expectations off my face in a split second and I could see clearly for the very first time. I freaked out when you didn’t answer my calls, Maple, and I realized I cannot live without you and River.
He looked at me. “You. And River. That’s what mattered. That was the whole list.”
I was quiet.
“Cade,” I said finally. “Do you understand where I stand? Do you understand how difficult it is for me to trust you again after what you said? Do you realize that it’s not easy for me to even believe what you’re saying right now?
“Yes,” he said. “I do.”
“And just because you’re saying you’ve realized your mistake doesn’t mean I can forget how to hurt me and forgive you—“
“I know, Maple.” He said gently. “I’m not asking you to do anything immediately.
I’m not asking you to forgive me at all if you decide you can’t.
All I’m asking is that you give me the chance to show you.
However long that takes.” He paused. “I want to know River better.
I want to be around you both. I want to earn your trust back.
A Sonnenberg doesn’t marry a pole dancer.
“Just give me one chance, Maple.” He paused.
“Before I fucked it all up, did you have feelings for me?”
I didn’t want to answer that. Because we both knew the answer.
And the answer was yes. I was falling in love.
The first time in my life — the first real time, and he had been the one.
Until he wasn’t. And the terrible, inconvenient truth was that I was still not over it.
I had been suppressing whatever I still felt for him every single day since I heard him say those words.
But with time, I could get over anything. I knew that too.
He took a step closer.