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Caleb
“Lookslikeit’sgonna be a big one.”
I turn to Ma and then follow her gaze out towards the north. The sky’s been thick with clouds all week. The air feels heavy and the pressure in the atmosphere has been making everyone in town grumpy. Now the rolling clouds are turning a deep shade of charcoal. Ominous, with the promise of heavy rain. As we sit in the Yellow Field’s garden, I hear the dull rumble of distant thunder.
Ma is right. The approaching storm is going to be a big one.
If I were superstitious, I might think the weather was reflecting my mood. It’s been a long few days, and I haven’t spoken to Lizzie. Not properly. She’s spent her free hours in her new home with David, and I’ve been pulled back and forth by neighbors needing their homes secured for the forecasted rain. I’d continued work on the Jessop house, but only when I was certain Lizzie and her friend weren’t around. Like a thief, stealing inside to lay tile and mend pipework.
Childish but necessary. Especially after the accusations that I’d thrown at her that night.
I brace my elbows on my knees and set my chin on my hands in brooding thought.
I’ve been an asshole, but I stand by my words. I’m thankful to have the truth laid before her. But I could have handled it entirely differently. Should have handled it entirely differently. There had been no need to throw her recent loss in her face. There had been no excuse for the tone or volume I’d used.
And until I know how best to approach her, how best to apologize, I’d taken up the most logical course of action: avoidance.
Because, if I’m completely honest, I don’t trust myself not to mess it up further. To make an even bigger mess of things while she’s already angry at me.
“Caleb?”
I blink in surprise, shaken from my doom and gloom as Ma nudges me in the shoulder.
“Huh?”
“I said, where’s Elizabeth?”
“Who?”
“Elizabeth!” Ma says, waving a hand in front of my eyes like I’ve been lost to a netherworld. “Goodness me, boy, you should know your own fiancée’s name!”
It takes me a moment to piece it together.
“Oh, Lizzie. She’s not my fiancée, Ma. You thought that—” I pause, remembering what Lizzie had said about reminding Mom of her Alzheimer’s, about pointing out her mistakes. “—I mean, that was a misunderstanding. She’s not my fiancée. She’s just a friend.”
“Just a friend?” Ma’s brows rise and I notice for the first time that she’s wearing a little make-up. Her hair is still blonde from Lizzie’s makeover, and I feel a wash of nostalgia. Confusion over my marital status aside, she’s watching me with a very lucid stare. “You sure about that, son?”
I shuffle on the hard bench. No, I’m not sure about it at all, actually. I’m completely head over heels for the woman, and want everything beyond and including a friendship with her. Right now, I’m not even convinced she’d return my call.
“Pretty sure we’re not more than that, Ma. We’re not even speaking at the moment.”
Her eyes narrow.
“What did you do?”
I hold up my hands in offense. “What makes you so sure it was me?”
She reaches out, pats my knee, and sighs.
“Because, my boy, you have the unfortunate combination of limited people skills and a deep, loving heart. You always have. You either hold it in or let it explode. There is no in between with you. My guess is you did one or both with your Lizzie.”
I’m floored. I never thought I’d wish for a time when Ma was confused but right now I feel two inches high and want my forgetful mother back. This one is way too perceptive and too skilled at making me feel like I’m ten again.
“I… might have done something like that,” I finally admit.
“Hmm.”
There’s so much smug wisdom in her voice that I change the subject, throwing a hand out toward the nearby foliage and fall flowers.
