Misunderstandings (Woodfalls Girls 2)

“And to see the boy who broke your heart two years ago,” she said, stirring the pot.

“Yes,” I answered.

“And did you two fix what was broken?”

“How did you know it was something broken and not just a typical breakup?” I asked.

“How did I know? Honey, I don’t get my nosey nicknames by sitting back and cooling my heels. I knew the moment you came home all broken inside that some boy had done that to you. Only love can break a gal’s spirit like that. I waited for you to come to me and tell me. I figured you’d get around to it when you were ready,” she said, pulling two bowls from the cabinet.

“You never said anything.”

“That’s because I know how much you value your privacy. I know my runaway tongue embarrasses you, but it’s who I am. I figured I owed it to you not to pry this time.”

I felt so ashamed. For years I’d kept her in the dark, punishing her for who she is. I gave her an awkward hug. “I’m sorry, Mom. I never meant to make you feel bad.”

“It’s okay, honey. I know we’re different, but I want you to know that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

“I love you too,” I said, sinking down at the bar with my bowl of chili in hand.

“Tell me about your trip and why it made you unhappy.”

I decided to go back to the very beginning. I filled her in on everything from meeting Justin at the café to spending Thanksgiving with him that year to the first time he told me he loved me. Our untouched chili cooled as I told her about the pregnancy and then the miscarriage. I was surprised when tears rolled down her cheeks and she reached out to grasp my hand. I even told her how Justin had outed me for an abortion I never had. Finally I moved to my recent visit to Seattle. Through my whole confession, my normally talkative mom remained silent. She gave me a hug that didn’t feel nearly as awkward as the first one before reheating our chili.

“I’m so sorry, honey, but I’m confident you and your young man will figure it out.”

“You are?” I asked surprised.

“Honey, you may be my flesh and blood, but you and I are as different as night and day. You see something you want and you go after it, no matter how scary it may seem.”

I mulled over her words as we both ate our chili in silence. In retrospect, I knew she was right. I was never one to not rise to a challenge. Only once had I ever let a situation beat me down. Feeling lighthearted, I headed home so I could be there when Justin called. I had no sooner sat down on my couch when my cell phone rang. I greeted him much the same way I had the night before, by declaring how much I missed him. Thankfully he seemed equally miserable, so I didn’t feel nearly as codependent as I thought. We talked for several hours, neither of us wanting to hang up. The rest of my week pretty much followed the same pattern with the exception of subbing a couple of days at the elementary school and the high school. The highlights of my days were the text messages Justin would send me and our nightly calls.

Two weeks after returning home, I finally got a call from Ms. Miller, officially offering me Mrs. Duncan’s full-time position when she retired at Christmas break. The feeling of excitement that I was so sure would come when I finally secured a full-time position never manifested. I was appreciative but hated that there was yet another thing to tie me to Woodfalls. That night when I talked to Justin, I could tell by the lack of enthusiasm in his voice that he felt the same. He then delivered the blow that his trip would have to be delayed since his client had commissioned him for another job. I tried to interject cheer into my voice as I congratulated him, but my heart wasn’t in it. This was why long-distance relationships were impossible.

The next morning I felt marginally better when I woke to a text from Justin. I sent a return message and a few seconds later my phone rang.

“Morning,” I greeted him. “Sorry about last night. I just miss you so damn much.”

“I miss you too. I’m sorry about my trip being delayed,” he sighed. I knew without even seeing him that he was rubbing a hand over his head.

“That’s okay. Maybe I can come for Christmas,” I said, not sure if I was being too forward.

“Really?” he asked, sounding more excited than I’d heard him in the last few days.

“Sure,” I said as the idea took hold. “I don’t start until after Christmas break, so I’ll have those two weeks off.”

“That would be amazing,” he said.

“I think so too,” I said happily, not dwelling on the fact that Christmas was still months away. We talked for a few more minutes before he had to return to work.

“I’ll call you later tonight,” he promised.

“You better,” I threatened. “Bye.”

“Bye, I love you,” he shocked me by saying just before he hung up the phone. Glancing at the phone in my hand, I wondered if I’d heard him right. We had both avoided saying the words. It got to the point where I wondered if we would ever be able to say them again. Sitting there with his words still swirling around my head, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I loved him too. I always had and always would. I belonged with him. He was the love of my life.

Looking around my empty apartment, I realized that all the things I thought were tying me to Woodfalls merely needed to be untied. Grabbing my keys, I tore out of my apartment. Five minutes later, I was running up the stairs to Tressa’s room, glad she had no classes.

She was in the middle of typing something on her computer when I burst through her bedroom door. “Well, it’s about damn time,” she greeted me.