“We found you drinking hot chocolate in the lodge,” Winona teases.
“Anxiously,” Olivia protests. “I was anxiously drinking it.”
“Didn’t he also somehow program the TV to come on at full volume at four in the morning and Mom called the Snowpeak cops?” Ava asks, to more laughter.
“Their response time was very impressive,” Vera says.
“For the record, he felt really bad about that,” offers Delilah.
It’s not what I want her to say. I want her to say what a moron or thank God I divorced him or how could I ever think I loved that man. Not something as simple and neutral as he felt bad.
“I know, I got an enormous fruit basket with a very sweet apology note the next week,” Vera says, sounding amused. “The papaya was delightful.”
A fruit basket. Nolan gave fruit baskets.
“He had his moments,” Delilah says. “Speaking of skiing, is there a plan for tomorrow?”
“Yeah, stop talking about Nolan, the new one might hear you.”
“You mean —"
“Olivia, please,” Vera says, cutting Delilah off.
“He has a name,” Delilah says.
Now I feel like I’m eavesdropping.
“EIGHTEEN!” Bree shouts from down the hallway.
“Well, I can’t go skiing, obviously,” Olivia says, ignoring Delilah. “And I know the shopping in town is only so-so, but there’s the cutest kids’ boutique, so I was thinking I might get some things for the nursery there, it’s too bad that we still don’t know if it’s a boy or a girl…”
“NINETEEN. TWENTY READY OR NOT HERE I COME!!”
Feet barrel down the hallway to the living room, and I put one hand out and wiggle the curtain back and forth, just to help her find me faster.
“You having fun, sweetie?” I hear Winona ask.
“Yes,” Bree says, very seriously.
“All right,” Winona says, just as Bree gasps.
“WHO’S THAT?” she says, and moments later, she’s yanking on the curtains.
“Whoa! Careful,” I tell her, parting them.
“I FOUND SETH!” she shouts, and then grabs my hand. “Come ON, now we have to find grandpa.”
“Yes, ma’am,” I tell her, and we go look for Harold.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Seth
Seven and a Half Years Ago
(Two years before the previous flashback)
The bartender looks at Caleb’s ID, her lips thinning. Her eyes flick to his face, and then back down.
“What’s your name?” she asks.
“Daniel Loveless,” Caleb says.
“Middle name?”
“Creed.”
“Birthday?”
“October twenty-fourth.”
“What year?” she asks, eyes narrowing.
Caleb pauses for a split second before answering, and my stomach drops.
“Nineteen ninety,” he says.
At last, the bartender shrugs, tosses the three IDs back onto the bar.
“All right,” she says. “What can I get you?”
We order beers, and as she’s getting them, Levi glances over at Caleb.
“Told you,” Caleb mutters.
“Don’t involve me in your nonsense,” Levi says, though I think he’s smiling.
Is he smiling? He’s smiling. Somehow, he’s inscrutable, even though I’ve known him my whole life. He wasn’t particularly enthused about Caleb borrowing Daniel’s license to come out drinking with us, but he didn’t protest that hard, either. Probably because Levi doesn’t mind breaking the rules he thinks are stupid.
When we get our beers, I hold mine up.
“To having a job,” I say.
“Also to having a job,” Levi says.
“To… declaring a major,” Caleb says, somewhat less enthusiastically, and we all drink.
It’s Friday night, the summer after college. Levi finished his Master’s degree in forestry the week before I graduated, and two months later, we’ve both managed to find gainful employment. He’s even renting his own place, some tiny cabin out in the woods, though I’m still staying at my Mom’s house, along with Caleb for the summer and Daniel and his kid Rusty indefinitely.
God, it’s fucking weird that Daniel’s got a kid.
We drink. After a bit, we head over to the pool tables. None of us is all that good at pool, but none of us is all that bad, either. Levi wins a game, then I do. Caleb’s mildly annoyed but hiding it well.
He sees her first.
I’m trying to line up a shot, half-assedly calculating angles that will only work if I hit the cue ball flawlessly, when he whispers something to Levi. I ignore it, take the shot. The ball bounces off one side, then misses the pocket.
When I look up, they’re still muttering to each and giving me weird looks.
“What?” I say, picking up my beer.
Levi just shakes his head and leans over the pool table, but Caleb’s eyes flick over my shoulder.
“Nothing,” he says, too quickly.
I turn.
It takes a moment: The Whiskey Barrel is pretty popular, dive-y, fairly crowded on a Friday night. I think maybe it’s nothing. I think maybe they’re just being weird.
Then I see her. Standing there, at a cocktail table with one glass-enclosed candle burning in the middle, the bar’s attempt at class. She’s alone, leaning on her elbows, her shoulders up around her ears as she looks around like she’s waiting for something.
It’s the first time I’ve seen her since the night I fled her parents’ house the week before Christmas.
Delilah looks different. Her hair’s cut short, above her shoulders. She’s wearing heels with jeans, a light-colored tank top, lipstick. I keep staring, dumbstruck, and then her gaze finally makes its way to me.
She’s surprised. Somehow, I’m surprised I got caught, but I’m frozen in place, can’t stop staring at her. Behind me, I hear the dull clack of balls knocking into pockets. Caleb says something, but I’m not paying attention.
At last, I nod. Once. I don’t know what else to do. I spent the winter feeling like she’d kicked a hole through my chest. I got my first-ever C in a class. I felt a little better with spring, but not much. Every bit of progress felt like I was sewing myself together with a dull-tipped needle.
Delilah nods back, and the moment she does a man materializes next to her. He sets a drink down on the table, and she looks up. Smiles at him.
It feels like a hole opens in the floor, and I fall through.
“Seth,” Levi says, and there’s a hand on my shoulder. “Your turn.”
We finish the game. I lose catastrophically and couldn’t care less as I drain my beer, wishing there were more.
“Next round’s on me,” I say. “Anyone else want something stronger? I could really use one.”
“Sure,” says Caleb, grinning because he’s nineteen and not even supposed to be here.
“No thanks,” Levi says, his face closed off, his beer only half-gone. “I drove you two, remember?”
At the bar, I order three well whiskeys, drink one on the spot, take the other two back to the pool table where I lose again, even more catastrophically. More whiskey. Another game. I’m not a big drinker, so it doesn’t take long before I feel like I’m swimming through the bar, missing every shot, shouting at my brothers who are standing a foot away, slurring my words. Always keeping one eye on Delilah and that man, over at the table.