“Well, Gwen, I have to say I’m glad you have your appetite back.” My mother informed me with a smile.
I let out an unladylike snort as I shoveled my second plate of eggs into my mouth. She was right, suddenly I was eating like a pubescent boy. I made my father drive half an hour to the closest dairy last night to get me a banana milkshake. And pickles.
It was two days after our little chat. I had called Cade. Only to have it go straight to voicemail, I chickened out on leaving a message deciding on picking up the phone the next time he rang. But after being stuck on the phone multiple times with every single person in my family and all of my mother’s nosy friends, I hadn’t heard from him, I was worried. But I was too scared to call him again. So I ate.
“I am too my sunshine,” Dad chipped in putting his arms around my mother and kissing her head.
“But I will say, I don’t know if the chickens will lay quickly enough to keep her in eggs, we may need to buy some more.” He grinned at me, I swallowed my mouthful poking my tongue out at him.
“Well you may as well buy a milkshake machine too Daddy,” I said sweetly, giving him a wink.
Amy sauntered into the room looking a million bucks like usual. Her hair was swept up in a ponytail, she wore white jeans and a camel colored cashmere sweater. Not exactly country appropriate but at least the heels on her boots were thick. She had lost some serious weight; I couldn’t help worry. Her curves were disappearing and her cheekbones sallow. I wasn’t one to talk, but I hoped my eating habits might inspire hers. My hope flared when she scooped some eggs onto her plate followed by a healthy dose of bacon.
“Morning family,” Amy declared, smiling at my parents, then bending down to pat my stomach. “Morning Supe,” she smirked as I rolled my eyes at the nickname for my bun. She barely had two bites when her phone rang, she glanced down at it before standing. “Excuse me, gotta take this, it’s Rosie, about the store.” She quickly walked out of the room before answering.
Guilt blossomed in my stomach. I felt terrible for leaving the girls’ in the lurch with my store. I hadn’t really talked to anyone. I was too afraid Cade would hijack the call. So Amy had taken care of what needed to be taken care of. Rosie was a star, dealing with everything from the orders to the payroll. I owed her big time. Not to mention I had dragged Amy halfway across the world and not mentioned a return date. She could have gone home with Ry and Alex, who flew over for the funeral and stayed for a week after. I could tell she was reluctant to leave, to face the reality of getting on with life, but I did know I had to figure it out and soon. I didn’t have long before I wouldn’t be able to make the twelve hour flight until after the baby was born. And even after I didn’t want to be that mother with the screaming baby on the plane.
A small part of me wanted to stay here, at my home in the country, my quiet retreat where I felt safe and comfortable. But it was also where memories of my brother lurked around every corner, and Cade did not. I contemplated this all over my plate of eggs before I sighed and cleaned up. I took my jacket and boots from beside the door, turning to my parents.
“I’m going for a walk, I need some fresh air.”
“Okay well take Gunner with you. That fat dog needs some exercise.”
I looked at my father. “As if he would let me go anywhere without him.” My point was proven when an excited but overweight Lab bounded through the door I had just opened. “See you in a bit.”
I strolled around my childhood home, admiring it as I moved further away. It was big, but not obscene. Two storied with a porch wrapping around the entire back and steps leading down into a huge garden. Huge pillars held up the balcony which jutted off the upstairs living room, the backdrop of the Southern mountain ranges our backyard. I left it behind and let my feet take me to my place, our place. Gunner was puffing beside me but happily smiling up at me. Ian used to argue that dogs couldn’t smile but I disagreed, we had a perpetually happy Lab. I marveled at the amber and orange hues that decorated the trees and the leaves that crunched under my feet. I loved my home in autumn, it felt like a new beginning. I made it up the gentle slope, not liking to admit my panting sounded dangerously close to Gunner’s. I patted my stomach.
“This is your fault, Bun, I used to be in great shape. I swear, if you make my ankles swell I’m giving you a baby mullet.”
I reached the top, ambling over to a swing hanging from a huge old oak tree, its leaves shimmering gold. I closed my eyes, sitting down in the swing moving back and forward, casting my eyes upon the rolling hills of home. This was our place. Mine and Ian’s. He built this swing for me when I was eight for me to play on and then it became a place for me to escape in my teenage years. Cry away heartbreak, run from my parents after yet another grounding, or to dream about starting my life in New York. Ian would promise me nothing bad could happen up here. A single solitary tear escaped my eye. I sat in silence for a long while.
“You lied Ian. Bad things can happen here. They did happen. You’re gone. You left me. I’m so angry with you. How could you leave us? How can I handle all of this without my big brother? You’re never going to meet my baby. Never going to make any of your own, I’m never going to see you again. It hurts so much, I feel like I’m going to be like this forever. Am I ever going to be happy again?” I pleaded against the wind, the breeze carrying my words. I laid my head against the swing, wishing for the millionth time that I could travel back in time.