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“How could I forget? I almost changed my damn phone number,” I said.
“And it just sort of got blurted out.”
“I’m not angry with you,” I said. “I’m angry with him. Can I get a restraining order?”
“If he hits you or something. But you won’t need one once that happens because I’ll kill him,” she said.
I laughed. “I think you’d need to get in line.”
“So, what happened when you met him on the sidewalk?” she asked.
“He was his usual asshole self and, of course, Brian pops up out of nowhere.”
“Ah, the hero to the rescue.”
“But I don’t need rescuing, Sarah,” I whined. I knew how ridiculous it sounded, but still, I was annoyed. “Sure, yeah, it was hot when he stood up for me in the restaurant. But popping up and basically threatening the guy in the middle of the damn street with Lanie in his arms, is a little much. I can handle my damn self.”
Sarah giggled on the other end of the line. “I know you can, Amanda, but I really think you’re overreacting. He wanted to make sure you were ok. Is that so bad? He wanted to be your protector. What’s wrong with that? After having endured two years with Daryl’s dickless self, I would think you’d be happy to have a guy who wanted to take care of you.”
I rubbed my temple with my free hand and sighed. “I know, but what I if I’m afraid to let him take care of me? I think I’m starting to have real feelings for him Sarah, and that could get messy.”
“My advice? Talk to him. Tell him how you feel. If you guys are going to be fake married or whatever soon, then you need to keep communicating. It’s not going to look good for anyone if a newly-wedded couple is already fighting.”
“What the hell is my life?” I asked.
“Crazy. But it’s entertainment for me, so I don’t care. Just talk to him before you freak out and jump to conclusions. Dating someone like Daryl can make you think the worst about people. Hold off that judgment until you talk to him,” she said.
“I know, I know. You’re right,” I said. “Of course, I am. Now, go talk to him,” Sarah said. “And let me know how it goes.”
I hung up the phone and headed over to Brian’s cabin, but when I knocked on the door, no one answered. I thought about waiting on his porch for him and Lanie to come back from wherever they were, but the temperatures were plummeting quickly, and I didn’t have the proper clothes on. So, I headed back to my cabin and decided to wait there.
I had been severely limiting my time in this cabin. I still hadn’t figured out how in the world I was going to fix it, and being inside of it brought back memories that made my heart ache. Brian and all of this drama was a nice distraction from the hurt I couldn’t process. I couldn’t admit to myself that my grandmother was gone. That the only woman who had ever brought me warmth and solace and strength was dead.
Setting my stuff down in the corner, I looked up the old, haggard staircase. I kept making excuses because of the condition of the staircase to not go up there, but really, I was avoiding it because of the memories. My childhood bedroom was up there, and I had no idea what condition it was in. I felt tears rising in my eyes as a pull in my gut tugged me toward the staircase, and soon I was taking gentle steps up the stairs. With each move I made, it seemed the entire house groaned underneath me. I could hear my grandmother’s laughter echoing in my ears as I made it to the top, tears streaming down my face.
I turned to the left and stared at the door. The room I had called my own for years was behind that door. Would it look the same? Would the walls be bare? Would it still have furniture in it or would it be a blank canvas for me to decorate later on?
I swallowed hard and stared down the hallway, listening to the creaking floorboards call out to me underneath my feet. With every groan and pop, the memories came rushing back to me and I almost lost my nerve. The heaviness of my grandmother’s loss, cloaked me like a shroud.
I opened the door and crinkled my nose at the musty scent. Dust was flying around everywhere, causing me to sneeze. I made my way over to a window and threw it open, watching as the dust and grime were visibly sucked out into the nighttime sky.
But when I turned and faced my bed, I saw a note.
Walking toward the edge of the bed, I picked it up gently in my fingers. My name was scribbled across the front in handwriting I recognized. Tears fell onto the envelope as I set the note down, taking in the contents on the bed.
