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“I am, but I plan on buying a house near our main office.”
“My job is here, Blaine.”
“I know that. Not that you will even need to work. I want to take care of you, Tilly.” He mutters something again before he continues. “I’m running late. I don’t want to argue right now. We can discuss our living arrangement when I get there.”
My eyes were focused on an empty bottle of conditioner I have yet to throw away. Something Blaine has reprimanded me for more than once when he’s been in here.
“I don’t want to argue either. Ok, call me tonight?”
“Of course.”
He hangs up and I place my phone on the counter. There’s so much we haven’t discussed. But we have time. We have the rest of our lives to figure it out. Together.
Right?
When I step through the doors of the Timber Creek center this morning I feel a sense of peace. I always did here. It’s where I thrived. Where I felt the most confident in myself. Jessie, the receptionist smiles and pushes her red rimmed glasses up on her nose.
“Morning, Tilly,” she chirps.
“Morning.” I slip past her desk, turning the corner to my office.
My first session wasn’t until nine this morning. His name is Eli, and he was absolutely adorable. He's three years old and we're introducing the basics.
I toss my purse in its usual spot and fire up my computer. I had a semi busy day ahead, but I was grateful for it. I needed my mind to be occupied.
The hour passes quickly and before I know it my class with Eli is almost over. His blonde mop reminded me of a shaggy dog, and I couldn’t help but give it a little shake when he gave me a hug goodbye.
“See you next week, Kristine.” I sign in addition to speaking verbally, always wanting to encourage my students.
Eli is still young, but the more he experiences, the faster he will catch on.
Kristine gives a wave from the front door, hustling the toddler out into the cool weather. I shiver when the wind from the open door blows through the reception area. Turning, I run my hands up and down my arms, heading for my office when I halt my steps.
Through the window I have a clear view of our outdoor area. We would often hold classes outdoors when summer rolled around, but other times it was used for our volunteer outings. I took a few tentative steps closer to the window. Lifting my fingers, I reach up, separating the blinds so I can peer out at the group of young boys, and one professional football player.
I watch him crouch down in front of five awe struck eight-year-olds. His face is serious as he speaks to them, and it's clear each boy is hanging on to every word out of his mouth. A few of the boys give eager nods and he holds up his fist, letting each one get in a bump before they all take off running across the snow covered yard.
I lean slightly forward, watching as Greyson pushes to stand. He has a football tucked under his arm, and a genuine smile on his face. He always did when he was here. He had been volunteering in the off season since he was in college. I just usually made myself scarce that week. I had no idea he would be volunteering now.
His arm lifts, the brown ball clamped firmly in his palm. My traitorous eyes track every movement. The nod of his head, the way he slightly steps back onto one foot. The fluid motion of his arm raising to let the ball sail smoothly through the air. I’d watched this man play a hundred games. Maybe more, and it never failed to steal my breath when he had the ball in his hand. His dream in his hands.
I let out a quiet scoff. I should be preparing myself for my next class, not ogling the man I despise. One of the boys catches the ball and Greyson’s hands clap together in encouragement. My heart warms to watch the boy beam from ear to ear as he returns the pass.
Just when I decide I've creeped long enough, Greyson angles his body back for another pass, only this time, those eyes are not trained ahead, they're trained on me. He makes the pass effortlessly without ever breaking eye contact. I hold his stare, challenging him like I always did. But in the end, it was me who broke the moment. I was hell bent on proving a point.
I was over him.
Chapter 10
Tilly
The past
It’s been two months since we buried my mother. Sixty days since I’ve uttered a word. The first three weeks I even took out my hearing aids and just boasted about in pure silence. I just needed time to mourn in my own way. Time to work out in my head the reasons why cancer chose my mom. Everyone is dealing with the loss the best they can. Dad is vacant. Whitley is almost nonexistent; Camille is now in therapy and Adam is trying frantically to keep us all from dissolving away all while being a rookie cop.
I spend most of my time after school out by the lake. It’s peaceful and I’m patiently waiting until winter rolls around and the beautiful water turns solid. That’s when I’ll skate. That’s when I’ll let the memories take hold and I’ll let the wind blow through my hair as I picture her laugh.
I’m sitting under my favorite pine when I feel a presence at my back. I turn just in time to see Greyson, my brother’s best friend, as he steps out from amongst the trees. I’ve known Greyson since I was a kid. He and my brother had become like brothers when his family moved here, which in turn somehow promoted him to act as mine as well.
