Page 62 of The Perfect Putt

“Hello?”

A sob breaks loose. I clamp a hand over my mouth.

“Ellie, what’s wrong?” Panic coats her voice.

“Miles,” I say through my tears. “I’m so stupid, Naomi.” I furiously wipe at my eyes, angry that I’m even crying. “I just need my sister,” I say, unable to get the explanation out.

“Tell me where you are. I’m putting Archie in the car now.”

“I’m on Wave Way.” I glance behind me, realizing Miles might come up to the parking lot any minute now. “I’m going to go stand by Coastal Coffee.”

“Okay, I’ll be there soon. Just stay put.”

“Thank you,” I whisper into the phone.

“What are sisters for if not this?”

“Okay, I don’t have any ice cream, and you said no pie, so all I have is a half a bag of semisweet chocolate chips.” Naomi sits down on the couch and sets the bag on the cushion between us.

“I told you I didn’t want anything. I’m okay, really.”

I tug my blanket cape tighter around me. I just got through telling Naomi everything that happened on the beach. She consoled me as I cried my way through it, then offered me everything in her kitchen to eat, even after I insisted I wasn’t hungry. I know she’s trying to take care of me though, so I don’t mind.

“All right, but let me know if you change your mind.” She snags the bag and sets it on the end table to her left.

I heave a sigh and stare blankly at the cartoon on the TV. My cry for help resulted in waking Archie up to come get me, but thankfully after a little warm milk and his favorite cartoon, he was back fast asleep. I would have felt even worse if Naomi had to deal with a cranky Archie because of me.

“How about you lay down and I play with your hair like Mom used to?”

A weak smile stretches my lips. “That sounds nice.”

I lay down beside her in my blanket cocoon. Her fingers start to sift through my hair. When we got sick when we were younger, I remember Mom coming in and brushing my hair back from my forehead. She’d tell little stories, or just hum softly until we fell asleep. Sometimes I’d pretend to be sick longer just so she would keep doing it.

Though I know I shouldn’t feel bad for him or even think of him at all, I can’t help but wonder if Miles had anything like that. If his mom ever cared for him while he was sick or told him bedtime stories. Were his parents ever good or did he grow up with the version of his dad that I met yesterday?

My heart aches for him in so many ways. I wish he would have just talked things through with me, but at the same time I know he thinks he’s doing the right thing. He said as much on the beach. I just don’t know how to get through to him, and I can’t open myself up to any more hurt by trying.

“Why does it hurt so bad?” I whisper, shutting my eyes as warm tears begin to fall. I thought I had cried all of them, but I guess I was wrong.

“Because you care so much. You have a big, beautiful heart and when you love, you love with every bit of it.”

“I wish I didn’t.”

“You wouldn't be the Ellie I know and love if you didn’t.”

“But I wouldn’t get hurt as much either.”

She hums as she continues trailing her fingers through my hair. “Pain and heartbreak are a part of life. Even if you changed everything about you, you couldn’t avoid it.”

I think about her losing Owen. How she laid on this same couch for days, bags under haunted eyes because she couldn’t sleep without him. I realize that somehow over the past two years she’s become the one comforting me. She found the strength to keep going. It feels foolish for me to cry about this after everything she’s been through, but I know if I said so she’d reprimand me.

“I know you’re right, but I wish you weren’t.”

She laughs a little. “Me too.”

I shut my eyes, tired of talking, tired of everything. I fall asleep on Naomi’s couch, and dream of a version of tonight that didn’t end in tears.

Chapter thirty

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