“Darn.”
We drifted into silence again, neither of us talking, but neither of us went back to reading either. I watched the snowfall for several minutes.
A fresh start …
“Yeah,” I said, only realizing too late that it was out loud.
Claire tilted her head in confusion.
“I was, uh, talking to my mom.” I quickly added, “I still hear her sometimes. It makes me feel crazy. But it’s clear as day. Maybe it’s my own inner intuition that was sculpted by her words and actions growing up, but Mom’s still there.”
As she listened, her features softened into understanding. “It’s nice that you have that,” she said.
“You don’t think it’s crazy?” I asked tentatively, feeling heat burning down the back of my neck.
“You’re asking the woman who has full-blown conversations with her reflection, so I might not be the best litmus test, but no. I think it’s nice you still hear her. It’s like a gift. And what do we know? Maybe it is some form of her energy, spirit, whatever.”
I smiled, wondering if it was true, hoping that it was.
“Do you ever hear your mother?” I asked.
“No. Mostly just my dad rambling about in my head. But if she is still watching me, I’d like to think she’s proud of me.” After a beat, she added, face falling. “Or she was.”
I squeezed her toes. “She hasn’t stopped being proudbecause you were obstructed in justice by centuries-old systematic corruption.”
“Thanks. But I’m talked out about the whole thing. Tell me more about what you’re thinking.”
I rubbed Claire’s arches as she leaned back to stretch her legs out and give me her full attention. “I miss Mom. A lot. We were so close my whole life. Even over a year later, I reach for the phone to call her or think of how I’ll have to tell her something only to remember.” I swallowed. “Sometimes, I don’t even feel like she’s gone. It’s like by avoiding the house, I’m stuck in this limbo. I’m just avoiding all the—” My throat tightened to the point where I couldn’t swallow. “Like I’m just delaying the inevitable.”
“There’s no timeline for grief. You’ll know when you’re ready to tackle the room and the rest of it.” She crawled forward to kiss me on the cheek. “Plus. Once I’m out next week, you’ll have your space back. Which, let’s be honest, is what you’ve wanted the whole time.”
Her words were light, so I tried to match her levity as I asked, “What do you mean?”
“Well, I may not be a genius when it comes to reading people, but you weren’t exactly thrilled to share your home. And now you won’t have to. Maybe this was your sign that you aren’t ready yet.” She smiled. “And that’s okay. It’s not like you need the money.”
It felt like a sucker punch to the center of this nice moment we’d been having.
“Claire, you don’t have to go.”
“Yes, I do. The contract I signed is up,” she said simply. It was unfathomable to me that she could be so casual after what we had shared.
“What I’m saying is … you should stay.” I watched as her gaze turned inward while my words soaked in. “Just for a little while. Maybe through New Year’s until you have a plan,” I added too quickly, but she must have seen the truth behind them.
“I don’t have any income. I have some saved, but I need to look for more work and …”
“Then stayhere.” I emphasized to the room around us. “I’ll rent the cabin to someone else for extra income if you’re worried about that.”
Her gaze dropped to her fingers now, twisting in her lap. “Levi. I—Thank you. That’s a kind gesture, but I already told my dad. And I have the moving truck planned. I just, I have a plan.”
“You won’t even think about it?”
She breathed in and out. “I-I think maybe it’s too fast. Maybe I can make a list of the pros and cons.”
“Pros and cons.” My words were flat, but my heart lurched, twisting in pain.
What was there to think about? We were infatuated with each other. Wasn’t she here the last few weeks while we fell for each other? I shared everything with her, and she wouldn’t even consider my offer?
I ground my jaw. “What’s all this been?” I asked.
