Page 75 of The Friendly Fall

“What if it’s too late?” My voice is barely above a whisper as a tear slips down my cheek. “What if I’ve messed it up so bad that he doesn’t feel the same way anymore?”

Granny’s face softens. “You know, you’ll never have that answer if you don’t try. And that’s the thing about love, Eliza, it’salwaysworth trying for—no matter how many times your heart gets broken.”

“You could do something big for him,” Vanessa adds. “Like something you know would mean a lot to him.”

“Like what?” I think aloud, racking my brain. “I literally havezeroskills outside of photography.”

“Maybe you could try something outside of your comfort zone—go the extra mile,” my friend says, the wheels in her brain seeming to spin. “Like, think about what matters tohim, and then spin that into something thatyoucan do for him. I don’t know. Maybe that makes no sense.”

His workbench broke.

“I could buy him a new workbench for his house?” I suggest. “He mentioned his was broken … but then again, maybe he’s already gotten a new one.”

“That’s not a bad idea…” Vanessa’s voice trails off. “But you need to find a way to really put your heart into it, you know? Like something that shows he’s worth the effort. Like an apology—but like abigapology.”

My eyes flicker out the window to my grandpa’s old workshop. “I could … I couldbuildhim one.”

Granny stifles a laugh. “That’sveryambitious.”

“I’m sure there are YouTube videos about it,” I say carefully, the idea settling more and more into my brain. “It wouldn’t be perfect, but maybe I could write him a letter with it, too? I don’t know.”

“I think it’s agreatidea,” Vanessa beams, perking up. “And even if it’s notgreat, he’ll know how hard it was for you. That’s the kind of thing I’m talking about.”

I nod, getting a boost of motivation. “I’ll just have to be super fast—I don’t want to be too late.”

Granny laughs. “Well, you better get to it.”

“After we finish the movie.” Vanessa picks up the remote, clicking the start button for the Hallmark holiday movie that we picked out moments before my therapy session.

The opening credits begin to play, but I don’t pay attention at all, my mind going crazy with the idea of doing somethingthisbig for Nick. I mean, it’s notsuperbig, but it’s big for someone whocan barely use a hammer. I pull out my phone, seeing a text from …Devon.

Devon - DO NOT CALL:Hey, I would REALLY like to talk to you, Liz.

I roll my eyes at it, growing more and more annoyed every time he reaches out. I open up the message, my fingers hovering over the keyboard as I conjure up the right way to say what I need to. After a few moments, I text him back.

Me:I don’t want to talk. We’re over.

Satisfied with the direct answer, I send it and close out of the thread. I go to the internet browser on my phone and begin searching for workbench plans. Some of them arewaytoo difficult, and my stomach drops as I realize just how hard the task is going to be.

Hopefully, Pop’s shop has all these tools.

My brow furrows as I try to read the instructions to build the bench, and it’s like reading a foreign language. Yikes.

I rack my brain, trying to remember some of the things that Nick did while building the ramp. He would know exactly what all the carpentry vocab meant…

But I can’t ask him.

However, Icouldmaybe go to the hardware store with a solid list, and let him help me make sure that I have everything I need—or maybe Martha can help? I scroll over to YouTube, turning the volume all the way down as I pull up some how-to videos. I watch themin silence, while Granny and Vanessa comment on just how cheesy the movie is that we’re watching.

But I don’t pay any attention to them.

Will he actually believe me when I tell him that I’m sorry?

Will he believe when I admit to how much I care about him?

My brain swirls with anxious thoughts as I try to focus. Part of me wants to save myself the effort of building a workbench and maybe just go over and ask him. That would save me all the work and the risk of doing this for him.

It would save me from rejection…

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