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“What the fuck? You’ve got to be kidding me. If this jackass thinks he is going to walk in here and turn this place into a metal factory, he is sadly mistaken. Where the hell is his phone number?” I frantically scan the letter and turn the envelope every which way in hopes of locating his contact information. There’s nothing. Convenient.
Mia takes the letter from me and reads in silence while I pace the kitchen floor. With each step, my feet smash the remnants of my heart as my dreams for this cabin slip away.
My best friend places the document on the counter and firmly grips my shoulders. “Listen, this is insane. Every fucking word of it is nuts. This is what you are going to do. Go take a shower and breathe. I’m going to town to grab a pizza and wine, and we are going to talk this through. I got you. Everything is going to be OK. Look at me, Solia. Look at me.”
I stop and listen. “OK.” And I walk toward the shower.
19
Several days have passed since telling Solia, and the deep, nagging pit in my stomach remains. As terrible as it was to walk away from her, my decision to leave can’t change now. It’s not lost on me that baring my soul to Solia was the first time I’ve allowed myself to cry since Trinity’s passing. And once I started, I cried more in those twenty-four hours than ever in my life.
I could tell by the look in Solia’s eyes she’s heartbroken. She understands my pain, but the shock in her expression couldn’t be ignored. For this, I’m a complete asshole. I should never have started something with her, knowing the position I’m in. But I’m noticeably lighter. Solia is the first person I’ve told about what happened. Everyone in my life already knows, was there, or learned of the details elsewhere. To say the words, to start from the beginning and speak it aloud—it was as if someone removed the cinder blocks from my exhausted shoulders. I’ve been carrying this story with me and have replayed it every single day since the accident. Being able to cry released a tension rod filled with pain.
I know it’s over between Solia and me, but I can’t help thinking about her, wondering if she is doing OK. She must be angry with me for waiting so long to tell her. But mostly, I rewind every moment I’ve been lucky enough to spend with her.
I won’t text or call her. That isn’t playing fair. With four weeks left before I leave for New York, the last thing I want to do is confuse Solia. She deserves better, and I will not let myself hurt her for a second time.
* * *
On my way to work on Wednesday, my phone blows up with text messages from my father. I talk to him often enough, but with the approaching deadline of my big move, I’m hearing from him more often.
DAD
Jackson, just checking in. I’ve got your office set up, and people are looking forward to having you on board. You ready?
JACKSON
Thanks, Dad. I’ll be ready.
You sure? Grandpa might have mentioned something about a special someone.
It’s set in stone, Dad. I’ll be there. I’m heading to work. I’ll text you later. Say hi to Mom.
Love you, son. Oh, Grandpa told me he talked to you about the wind farm thing. There’ll be a lot of paperwork if this goes through. Be prepared to take care of that before you leave. I’ve been in talks with several orchards in upstate NY who’ve been wanting to partner with us for a while. We’ll know more soon.
Has everyone lost their minds? I can’t believe my father is OK with this. Is everyone going to just sit back and let this company destroy a town that took centuries to build? He’s already planning for a freaking orchard replacement! My head spins.
* * *
After work, I sit in a rocking chair next to my grandmother. Neither of us says much. The sun is sinking, there is a slight breeze in the air, and being here with her is just what I need after a long day on the farm. Sometimes saying nothing can be so comforting.
“So, Jackson, it seems to me you’ve been around more these past couple days. It wouldn’t have anything to do with that beauty you were taking out around town?”
I love how my grandmother thinks she’s beating around the bush. Without a second thought, I tell her exactly what she wants to know and spare her the battle of trying to squeeze it out of me.
“Yes, it does, Grandma. Her name is Solia, remember? You know I’m leaving at the end of the summer, and I know you and Grandpa think it’s the wrong decision. I was dragging my feet, but I told Solia everything. I shouldn’t have waited. I regret that. I had to end it, even though we barely began. Seeing her again will also make it harder. It can’t continue if I’m leaving.”
“Jackson, why didn’t you tell her sooner?”
“I’m not sure. I guess I got caught up in the moment. She’s magnetic, and I didn’t want it to end. I know how selfish that sounds.”
“Honey, love makes us do crazy things. But listen to me. This is coming from an old lady who has seen a thing or two in this lifetime. There is nothing more important than love. Everything else doesn’t mean a damn thing. The only thing we take with us when we leave is love. Now, I know you haven’t known this girl long, but what I know is, I haven’t seen you smile and laugh like this in a very long time. And if you ask me, the reason you didn’t tell her is that you’re doubting your damn decision. But you didn’t ask me, so I’ll stay quiet.” And with that unsolicited advice, a smile appears on her face.
“Thanks for your advice, Grandma. Even if I didn’t ask for it.” I take her hand in mine and laugh. Even in the toughest times, she has the perfect words.
“Will you be going to the town hall meeting on Saturday morning? Should be interesting, don’t you think?”
“I’ll be there, Grandma. This wind farm bullshit is alarm-level disturbing. There is no way in hell the people of Meriden are going to let this happen.”
