MY FEET DRAG across the driveway as I follow Pippa into the house. Before we walk through the door, she intertwines our arms and rests her cheek on my shoulder. “Thank you again for the speech, Mare. It was beautiful.”
I squeeze her hand, pressing my cheek into her hair. “Anything for you, Pip.”
The day has totally drained me. Too many people wanted to talk and catch up on my life. Or wanted to comment on the eulogy I gave for Linda. The last thing I wanted to do was speak with any of them. Any other day, I’d be happy to see the people I hadn’t seen in years, but not today.
Today my heart hurts. I want to make sure everyone in the house has what they need for the night and then I want to crawl into bed and forget that Linda isn’t here anymore.
Pippa focuses on the setting sun as she lets out a slow breath. “Maybe one of these mornings we’ll wake up and find out this is all one terrible dream.”
“I wish it worked like that,” I answer sadly.
Boots scratch against the pavement behind us, catching both our attention. We turn to find Cade walking in our direction, his arms full of different casserole and Tupperware dishes. He tucks his chin over one of the dishes to keep the stack of food from falling. “I think we have enough food to last a lifetime,” he says
I rush to pull the door open for him. Their dad comes into view behind Cade, his arms full of bags with what I assume is even more food.
Cade walks past, not saying a word to me. In fact, he hasn’t said a word to me since this morning in my room. It should upset me, but he’s hurting. I try to keep reminding myself of that. Linda was his entire world. He was such a momma’s boy, and I’m sure he’s really going through it. I just wish I could do something for him, but his angry, lingering stares tell me all I need to know.
He’s still upset with me for leaving Sutten behind. If he wants to be left alone with his grief, then I’ll leave him alone. Even if being back here brings back all the memories—all the feelings—from a time when he was my everything. To be able to get through this, to be around him, I need to forget everything that’s transpired between us and just be there for him and his family.
I’m the last one into the kitchen, all of them already busy stuffing food in the fridge and stocking the pantry. My eyes travel over the array of food spread over the kitchen island. I whistle. “Why is it when somebody dies everyone suddenly thinks you want to eat casserole?”
Pippa scrunches her nose, pulling the lid off one of the containers. “Why does it all look the same?”
“The town’s just trying to help,” Jasper comments, stacking food in the fridge.
“A salad or something would be nice,” I joke.
Pippa moves the foil from one of the disposable containers. “Well, this one looks unique at least.”
Cade leans in, inspecting the food in front of Pippa. “Let’s pop that one in the oven then. I like that this one isn’t a weird brown color.”
“Smells like buffalo chicken,” Pippa adds.
Dinner is pretty quiet as we all get swept up in our thoughts as we get food into our systems. You can tell no one actually feels hungry, but we all know we need to eat. It was such a busy day that we really didn’t have time to feed ourselves.
Pippa pushes her plate out from in front of her as she sits back in her chair. “I think I’m going to go up to the bakery and make us some things to have here. We can’t live off casseroles—but we can live off pastries.”
This gets her dad to let out a small chuckle. “Something about that logic doesn’t make sense.”
She lets out a dramatic huff as she stands up and throws away her paper plate. “Basically, I need to go bake. I need to do something to forget any of this is happening. So, baking it is.”
He nods in understanding. “Yeah, I’m going to take a ride around the land to do the same thing, sweetie. Do what you need to do.”
Cade doesn’t say anything. I want to ask him what he’s doing to process his mother’s death, but I keep the question to myself. Standing up, I throw my plate away and clean the small mess we made in the kitchen while preparing dinner. The mess takes no time to clean up. When I finish, I find Cade staring at me from his spot at the table.
Turning the sink off and wiping my hands, I give him a hesitant smile. “Need anything?”
His cheeks hollow out as he sucks in a large breath. “Another loaded question.”
I fold the hand towel to give myself something to do. “It doesn’t have to be.”
His knuckles tap against the wood table. He watches me closely. There’s an entire island between us, but it feels like I’m standing right under his gaze. I’d give anything to climb into that head of his and really figure out what he’s thinking.
I just want to know he’s going to be okay.
Cade stares back at me. Neither one of us bother to hide the fact we’re assessing the other. It’s like we’re both trying to find the person we used to be close with within each other’s eyes.
His broad shoulders heave up and down. He stands up, breaking eye contact.
I sigh in relief. I don’t like looking back at him and realizing how much I don’t know the man who I used to have memorized.
“I think I just need to be alone.”
I nod. That should’ve been the answer I was expecting, but part of me hoped he’d maybe open up a bit.
Before I showed up in Sutten, I would’ve never wanted to have a deep conversation with him. I would’ve wanted to avoid him as much as possible. But being in his presence has done something to me. I want things to go back to the way they were, but without me still being hopelessly in love with him. I want my best friend back without the ache in my chest of wanting him as much as I want my next breath.
“Okay,” I whisper.
Cade stares at me for a few more drawn out moments before he sighs and heads toward the stairs. I watch his every move, fascinated in all the ways he’s changed from the last time I saw him.
His shoulders are much wider, his legs thicker. There’s so much more muscle to him than there was before. It’s all obvious, even underneath the formal attire he wore to the funeral. I don’t know which Cade I liked better. This more rugged, toned, closed off version of him that I barely know or the leaner, softer side of him that treated me like I hung the moon.
Cade doesn’t look back at me once and I have to accept the fact that it hurts, even when I know it shouldn’t.
