Page 10 of Unhurried Hearts

I’d rather talk about my hair again. My younger sister’s extended travel is a constant source of tension.

“Couple weeks ago, maybe?”

It was three days ago, but I don’t want her to be jealous. I hate lying about it, but it’s less contentious this way.

“I just think it would be nice if she could call more regularly.”

Here we go.

I gulp my coffee and eye the spot above the fridge where I know the booze is. A small splash of Bailey’s would go a long way right now.

“You guys go to bed early and you know how the time zones don’t line up well. And her schedule is weird too.” I rattle off all the regular excuses I make on behalf of my baby sister.

“If she told me when she wanted to call, I’d stay up late.”

Right. And then she could get the third degree about when she’s coming home and how she should save up for a flight and the rest of it. I don’t envy her, but it’s also a little her fault.

It’s hard to keep the exasperation out of my voice but I’m sick of being in the middle of them. Right around the time my sister hit teenagerhood she and my mom began to butt heads. Dad took a wide berth around them, and I ended up in the wake.

“Christmas?”

Maybe she chooses to say that single word because it’s easier than asking the full question.

I draw a deep breath and shrug. “Maybe, Mom.”

Then I hold open my arms and she sets her mug down to accept my hug.

“What you got planned for the rest of the day, sweetie?”

Anna’s glossy business card practically burns through the leather of my wallet.

“A haircut.”

I’ve made up my mind. I have to see her. I have to find out if the chemistry between us was a one-off or if she’ll give me more of those heated stares.

Chapter five

Anna

Inside the greenhouse it’s easy to ignore that fall is upon us. I wriggle out of my sweater and fan my face with my hand. If it wasn’t for the leaves fluttering from the mature trees and landing on the panes of foggy glass, you could pretend you were in perpetual summer.

“Is this right?” I tilt the plastic cup toward Ashlyn to show her the knuckle deep impression I made in the soil.

“Yep. Now drop in the seed and cover it up.”

Gardening may not be my hobby of choice, but I can see the appeal of tucking yourself into the warm, rich air of her handmade greenhouse. I squint at the tray of teardrop shaped lettuce seeds, pinching a few between my thumband index finger before placing them into their temporary home.

“You’re going to be drowning in lettuce.”

“Hope so. Oh, Isaac and I booked our flights for next month. You’ll give them a bit of water for me that week, right?”

I finish planting another lettuce and set it on the shelf above the table where we work. I can see Isaac’s workshop through the glass and I wonder if Chris will be in there at any point today.

“Hmm?” I must have zoned out in the rhythm of my task.

“Our flights to Ontario. We booked them.”

Right. Ashlyn is taking Isaac home to meet her family. It’s been five years since one of my mom’s guilt trips worked and got me on a red-eye to Toronto. That visit started off okay. Getting to see my aunt and uncle and some other cousins was nice. But having to listen to Thad talk non-stop about his church and then interrogate me about my lifestyle? Enough was enough. We got in a shouting match and my mom didn’t come to my defence once. Just stared into her mashed potatoes like she didn’t evenhearher husband tell her daughter she’s going to hell. I paid to bump my flight up a day, citing some windy weather that made me worried my regular flight wouldbe cancelled. I don’t evenlikeflying and I still felt more relaxed on that journey home than I did under Thad’s interrogation about my moral compass.

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