Before I Let Go

On the other side of the fence, the snow is knee deep and continues to fall. Despite that, Mrs. Robinson’s garden is in full bloom.

She comes to stand next to me, leaning heavily on her cane. “Close your mouth, dear. It’s unbecoming.”

My mouth snaps shut, but I can’t stop staring. The garden is alive. One side is filled entirely with blooming salmonberry shrubs. A few of the younger teens—Gwen and Willow Wilde and Henry Lucas—mill about between the plants, picking ripe berries. Tobias Morden smiles and waves when he sees me.

I wave back. Any other time I would’ve walked over to talk to him, but my thoughts are going a hundred miles a minute. What happened here? How can this garden be in bloom?

The other half of the garden is covered in wildflowers. Yellow poppies run from the center path to the hedges, which frame the garden. It’s a sea of flowers. Purple lupine borders the edges. The Harper brothers weed around the flowers, even though the ground should be hard and frozen.

The only snow sticking in the garden is the snow that clings to people’s hair and boots. Otherwise it’s spring. Summer. Berry season. Life.

“Kyra cared for this garden,” Mrs. Robinson says. “Once she moved to the spa, she spent less time here, but she’d still come every couple of days to tend the ground and the plants. On the days that she couldn’t make it, Piper was here. Or young Tobias. Or Sam. Or any of the others. We wanted to make the garden winter ready, but Kyra was adamant that we shouldn’t. I would sit with Kyra for hours then, even when the days began to shorten. She would paint without care for rest or food.”

The bright colors of the flowers keep distracting me, and it takes a little while for Mrs. Robinson’s words to register.

“I doubted her, at first. But then the garden started to grow. Flowers started to appear that hadn’t been in this garden for years. The salmonberry shrubs started to bloom again. We had no explanation for it—Kyra had no explanation for it—but we couldn’t deny what we saw in front of us.” Mrs. Robinson takes my hand and walks me to the shed. Nothing is stored away. All the tools are still in use.

She points me around the side of the structure to the outer wall, which I couldn’t see from the house. It’s another painting of Kyra’s, but one far more realistic than her usual style. It depicts a garden filled with salmonberries, purple lupine, and other wildflowers. It’s a garden that mirrors Mrs. Robinson’s garden almost exactly as it is looks now.

“The world doesn’t end when one of us leaves it. We change by being here. Kyra left behind a tangible legacy. She created art. She created this too. Do you understand?”

I open my mouth and close it again.

“Corey?” Mrs. Robinson’s voice takes on an edge.

It’s habit to say yes, ma’am. But instead, I clamp my mouth shut and shake my head.

I don’t understand. And I don’t think I ever will.





To Those We Have Loved and Lost


I close the garden gate behind me and wander back to the center of town, lost in thought. The garden looked so different back when Kyra and I kissed. Being with Kyra was easy, comfortable. The conversation that followed our kiss was anything but. I didn’t want to remember it. I don’t want to remember it.

But I can’t ignore that memory.

“It’s okay.”

I start walking away from Mrs. Robinson’s house.

“It’s okay.”

And I remember.

A Year and a Half Before

We finished tending the garden in silence. Then I waited outside while Kyra went in to say goodbye to Mrs. Robinson. After that, we walked to the woods at the edge of town, away from the houses, away from people. The only company we might have would be moose.

“It’s okay,” Kyra said, her back to me.

I put my hand on her shoulder.

“No, it’s not,” I said. “I want to be able to talk about this, about us.”

“I just…” She raked her fingers through her hair before taking off her glasses to polish them, a sure sign she was nervous. “You shouldn’t be apologizing to me. I’m sorry. I misread the signs.”

“You didn’t. Or maybe you did—but I did too.”

She made a face. “I’m not that bad a kisser, am I?”

“No, you fool.” I punched her lightly in the arm, but quickly sobered. “I kissed you because I was curious, because I wanted to know what all the fuss was about. I thought maybe if I tried it, I’d be…” I stumbled over the words, because the only way to understand my own feelings was to voice them, but I didn’t want to hurt Kyra. While kissing may have been a one-time thing for me, it wasn’t for her. “I’m not attracted to you. I don’t think I’ve ever been attracted to anyone. That’s not how it works for me.”

“So it’s not me, it’s you?”

I grimaced. “Something like that. I love you, but I’m not in love with you.”

“I love you, and I am in love with you,” she said quietly.

“I know.”

This time, when Kyra turned away from me, I let her be.

Her shoulders tensed and her knuckles turned white from gripping her own arms so tightly. Even if she didn’t want me to see her cry, I couldn’t ignore how silent sobs racked her body. But all I could do was simply be there, close to her—and wait.

After some time, she calmed and spoke. “I don’t want to lose you.” I’d never heard her sound so fragile before.

“I don’t want to lose you either,” I whispered. Friendship was all I could give her, and I wasn’t sure it was enough.

“You’re all I have in this town. I don’t want to push you away.”

I stepped close and wrapped my arms around her. She felt as taut as a bear trap. “I won’t let you push me away.”

“Promise?”

I stood on tiptoe and pressed a kiss into her hair. “You’re my best friend. I love you endless days and endless nights. You’re stuck with me.”

She sighed and some of the tension eased from her shoulders. “I would be utterly lost without you.”





Phone call

“Is Mom there, Luke?”

“She’s at a meeting at the hospital. You know how it goes. She won’t be home for another couple of hours. Why, what do you need?”

“I…”

“Corey? Is something wrong?”

“I…”

“Cor?”

“Sorry, I forgot how terrible the reception is here.”

“Yeahhh. Tell me about something I do miss.”

“Like grizzlies?”

“They’re hibernating.”

“Eagles?”

“Migratory.”

“Mrs. Robinson’s rhubarb crumble.”

“It’s not the season for rhubarb, Corey. You know that.”

“Mrs. H’s cookies.”

“No fair. I do miss those. I’ll get on the next plane to Lost.”

“I’ll be—I’d be home by the time you got here.”

“Corey? Are you sure you’re okay? You sound weird. Weirder than normal.”

“Shut up, punk. It’s… It’s strange to be back here, you know? I thought everything would be the same, but so much has changed. Did you know they’re even talking about reopening the mine? I thought Lost would always be home, but I’m not sure where home is anymore.”

“Home is still there. And school. And here, with Mom and me. As long as you don’t take the train straight back to school without coming to see us. The new house really isn’t that bad. Mom finally decorated the living room.”

“I want to be here to say goodbye. Then I’m flying to Fairbanks, then home to see you. Okay?”

“Better.”

“You are a punk.”

“I try. Hey, Corey? I liked Kyra too. She was nice to me. She was your best friend. It’s okay if you’re not okay.”

“Hey, Luke?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you and Mom okay?”

“Are you sure you don’t want to call Mom’s cell phone?”

“No, no. Don’t worry about it. I don’t want to—”

“Everything is all right here, I promise. Mom and I are okay.”

“Thanks.”

“Cor?”

“Yes?”

“Will you say hi to Tobias for me? And Sam? And will you bring home some of Mrs. Henderson’s cookies? Tell her I miss them, and tell her I miss her too. And that I’m sorry about Kyra.”

“I will, I promise. See you soon.”

“Hey, sis?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t freeze your toes off out there.”





Pathways

Marieke Nijkamp's books