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Dale walks out there with him, and Lake jogs off after them while Lydia and I watch from the porch.
She wraps up in a brightly colored wool blanket from inside and leans up against me.
“You're an amazing sister to him,” she whispers.
“I've only done what I'm supposed to.” I shrug. “What I needed to.”
“It's more than that. You love him fiercely. You protect him. You're as selfless as they come, Dylan, and that's not something anyone can teach you or something you can even learn on your own. It’s just who you are.”
I stiffen slightly, turning to face her as she continues.
“You've been through real battles. Real struggles. Struggles I worked to make sure Lake would never understand as he grew up,” she says, still staring at the barn where we see Lake just inside the door.
He removes a tarp from a pile and grips onto the ropes of a hay bale, making a stack.
“He appreciates all of your sacrifices more than you realize.”
She turns towards me, an appreciative smile spreading across her face at my comment. Recognition of the fact that I'm aware of her sacrifices, too.
“It's funny,” she says, watching as Lake turns in our direction. He stares at us for a second before appearing to swallow and then turns back around, heading further into the barn with the hay. “I feel good about letting go now. I’ve made peace with it.”
I tighten my jaw at her words, fighting back the tears that come with these types of conversations.
“I had a hard time with it all, knowing he'd be alone. Feeling as if I’m leaving him. But after today, Dylan, after meeting you and Colin…” she pauses, her eyes filled with a hopefulness that makes my eyes water. “I know he's not. Nor will he ever be.”
A tear falls from my eye, and I wipe it away quickly, looking back at the barn and seeing his back as he works.
“He'll fight you, you know. Find reasons to assume he's not good enough to fit into your world. Not worthy of another woman who sacrifices herself for others. He's as stubborn as the asshole who made him.” She makes a face.
I snort a laugh at that before sniffling, appreciating her laying out the truth more than ever. She knows him best. Better than anyone. Better than me.
“But he's got my heart,” she continues, nodding softly. “And that heart never gives up. Not when we know what we love. And that boy knows what he loves, who he loves.”
Her words tear into me, making me feel weak at the knees.
“Give him time. He'll need time,” she says in a cracked tone. It's all it takes to make the tears fall freely.
She drops her blanket, both of her hands finding my face as she wipes away my tears with her thumbs.
“He'll need time, but he'll find his way back. Back to what really matters,” she whispers knowingly. “We always do, you know?”
She puts an arm around my shoulder and I wrap my arm around her back, holding her tiny frame as she rests her head against mine. We stand side by side, our battles stacked up behind us, connecting in our own unique way while watching the one we love from a distance.
54
Dylan
Youknowhowtheysay silence can be deafening?
Well, this silence isn't deafening, it's destroying.
He's keeping something from me. It's more than obvious by the way my stomach is twisting and turning with every mile we drive.
Women, we have an intuition about these things. We can sense changes in the air, the shift of energy when someone's feelings are changing. Even if it's as subtle as less direct eye contact. It's there and we know it.
He drives us home, walking up to help me carry in the leftover food that Lydia sent with us. Colin retreats to his room when we get back, the obvious strain from the day wearing on him. Lake lingers at the door, sure not to step foot inside. I don't want to believe that he's withheld the truth from me, but given the circumstances, I can actually empathize with it.
“Are you not coming inside?” I ask, already knowing his answer.
