“I hope so.”
It’s almost six by this point, so I suggest, “Let’s fix breakfast.”
I make drop biscuits while Shane scrambles some eggs. My aunt comes out of her room just before seven, sniffing sleepily. “Something smells good.”
Shane tells her, “We wanted to surprise you, after all the cooking you did yesterday.”
Her smile is warm and open. Yep, she likes him. “That’s so sweet.”
After breakfast, my aunt rushes around getting ready. The fact that she doesn’t mind showing Shane how disorganized she can be strikes me as endearing, like she already sees him as family. I clean the kitchen while he showers, then as he works on a new song, strumming his guitar and then making notes on the hand-drawn sheet music, I head for my turn in the bathroom. This melody sounds a little more upbeat, less brokenhearted, and I’m humming the only line I heard as I step into the shower.
You’re the one who makes me whole.
I wonder what he’ll rhyme with that. Soul, maybe.
Later, Shane and I go for a walk, drop my bike off to be repaired, eat lunch at the Coffee Shop, then get home in time to meet Ryan and Lila for a movie at the Capitol. We wait in line together, and for the first time, I feel like all the pieces fit. Ryan and Lila aren’t a couple, but they seem to like hanging out. In fact, I’d swear she’s flirting with him tonight. To me, he seems the same as usual; he’s wearing skinny jeans that make his legs look ten miles long, a button up over a weird graphic tee, plus his hipster glasses. His black hair is the usual riot of cowlicks and chaos.
“What’s the deal?” I whisper, nudging her.
Lila has just flipped her hair. And I don’t think she did it ironically. To my astonishment, color touches her pale cheeks. “What? He’s cute. You don’t mind, right?”
“No.” And I truly don’t.
Ryan’s my friend. He always has been. And, yes, he screwed things up, but I’m glad I listened to my aunt when she advised me not to let the silence run too long. I will always love his stories. Right now, he’s telling a convoluted one about his mom, a squirrel, and a bird feeder. This shouldn’t be hilarious, but somehow it is. I’m overwhelmed by the urge to hug them all, because they’re here, and I have friends, and considering what my life was like three years ago, this seems flipping miraculous.
Ryan finishes the story, and we’re all cracking up, but I have this pinch in my heart, like moments this beautiful just can’t last.
“You okay, Sage?” Shane asks, as we step up to the ticket counter.
For him, I muster a smile and put aside my dark thoughts. “I’m perfect.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
In early December, the first snow falls, and it’s cold enough to stick around. I don’t even mind, though the ice makes biking tough. There’s nothing more depressing than dead grass and bare, wet trees in winter. Snow covers all the bad stuff, making the world fresh and clean.
A while ago, using my awesome Google-fu, I tracked down the guy who owns the land we cleared in the fall. He’s in a nursing home, which is why he hasn’t done anything with the property. When he dies, his grandchildren will inherit, but until then, he signs a paper granting us permission to plant a garden for the beautification of the town. I’m exuberant when I come out of the old folks home and swing onto my bike. Green World will be pleased at our next meeting.
Sure enough, on Wednesday, Gwen nominates me as MVP, though that’s not something we’ve ever done before. She also takes charge from there. “We’ll need donations from various merchants, so we’re ready in the spring. We’ll need seeds and seedlings, fertilizer, topsoil…”