Page 26 of Never Let You Go

“Let’s take the long way back,” Grace says, looping her arm in mine. “See you later, Ems.”

Tilting my head up, I’m taken by the brightness of the blue sky. Plumes of smoke billow from chimneys of the houses up on the hill. The cold air is crisp on my cheeks, the snow soft under my feet, and the faint smell of burning wood holds the promise of coziness and simple pleasures.

A smile forms on my lips. It won’t be hard to love my stay here. One slightly abrasive person won’t change that.

“I’m sorry about Emma,” Grace says once we’re out of earshot. “She seems to be having a bad day. She’s normally friendlier. She’s pretty protective of our little town, I suppose.”

“It’s alright,” I say. “She wasn’t rude or anything.” Just destroyed my hand. “I understand being guarded toward strangers. It’s probably even a good thing.”

“That’s not how we normally treat people here.” She chuckles. “Once you get to know her, she’s cool though. She became a CPA while raising Caroline on her own.”

“Wow.” That is pretty impressive. It doesn’t escape me that her situation seems to draw a lot of parallels with Christopher’s. And my mother’s. “I grew up in small town, raised by a single mom too. That ‘It takes a village’ saying was pretty real for me as a kid. I can see where she’s coming from.”

I snap a few pictures, admiring the contrast of the harmonies of white with the bright blue of the sky and the dark green of the trees.

“I thought you were from New York City?”

“Nope. As a kid, I grew up upstate. But it got messy after my mom died. I moved in with my grandmother, and she packed me off to boarding school.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

I shrug. “It was for the best. She had her own stuff going on. I don’t blame her. I’ve been living in the city since I graduated college, though.”

“I used to fantasize about going to boarding school,” she says, chuckling. “I bet it wasn’t as fun as it seems.”

Well, it wasn’t exactly camp, and also Mom would have never done that to me, so… “It was alright.” We reach the covered bridge, a long wooden structure with a red roof. “Is that the creek?” I ask, pointing under our feet to the white, unmoving expanse. The bridge seems to be spanning a very flat ribbon of land.

“Yup. That’s the creek. It’s large around here, more like a river. It gets pretty big in the spring. But right now it’s frozen solid.” And covered in snow. There is no telling where the river stops and where the banks start. It’s all a white expanse shining under the sun as if a trail of diamonds had been scattered.

Once on the other side of the bridge, we walk uphill for a bit, and I slip a couple of times. “I’ll have to upgrade my boots,” I say chuckling and admiring Grace’s fur-lined, thick-soled footwear.

“Sure,” she says. “Let’s take you to the General Store.” We hang a left on a narrow road. The village lays across from us, brick federalist houses and white capes and colorful Victorian houses elbow to elbow, forming a charming and diverse picture. A woman shakes the snow off her trees and stops to wave at a man two houses down shoveling his portion of the sidewalk. I snap a few pictures again, then catch up with Grace. We take a second covered bridge back into town.

As Grace turns around to check on me, I take a photo of her, framed by the covered bridge, the village behind her, her sunglasses reflecting the snowy hill, and her deep red lips curved up in a smile.

“Now, I really know what a storybook village looks like,” I say as I close the gap between us and tuck my hands in my pockets. Taking my gloves off just a few moments to take pictures was enough to make my fingers numb with cold.

“Aww,” Grace says. “It is beautiful. I suppose we take it for granted most of the time.” We cross the bridge in silence, our feet loud on the wooden planks. “Did you have time for breakfast?” Grace asks.

“Uh… no, but I’m fine,” I lie.

“Tsk tsk tsk. Did Chris pull you out of bed this morning?”

I’m suddenly warmer. He nearly pulled me out of the shower and looked like he wanted to try my new vibrator on me. “No, I just… ran out of time.”

“Well, I could use a cup of coffee. Let’s grab something at the Easy’s and then we’ll hit the store for those boots.”

Easy Monday is a coffee shop that smells like a box of chocolates and a mug of coffee had a love baby named Cinnamon. My mouth waters and my nose tingles from the warmth inside. The space is large yet comfy, with shelves overflowing with books, board games stacked on the carpeted floor, and a hodgepodge of armchairs and couches and tattered coffee tables.

“Gracie! It’s been a hot minute,” a woman about our age says. She’s sitting in a deep couch, surrounded by colorful pillows. “And you brought our new resident with you.” The woman closes her book and smiles at me. “Welcome to Emerald Creek. I’m Autumn.” She stands, her beautiful red hair cascading on her shoulders, and a big smile and the cutest dimples illuminate her face. “I have to go, but I’ll catch up with you later.”

“My girls!” Another young woman says from behind the counter. “How can I make your day awesome?”

“That’s Millie,” Grace says to me as she drops her coat on the closest armchair.

Millie gives me a concerned smile. “Tea and honey for you, sweetie? I hear you’re sleeping in a drafty attic full of critters.”

I laugh. “The room is lovely, and tea and honey sound great. But this morning, I’ll just have your house coffee and a muffin,” I answer as I take my coat, gloves, and hat off.

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