Page 10 of Butterfly Sisters
“I had to stop at Leon’s and ask directions,” Leigh admitted. “Colton showed me how to get back here…”
Mama’s eyebrows bounced with that news, making Leigh smile despite herself. “What’s he up to?” she asked.
“I have no idea. He was a man of few words. Just showed me the way and took off.”
“Sounds like him,” she said adoringly. Her mother moved through the porch and opened the door to the kitchen, setting the bags on the old linoleum floor.
Leigh’s heart skipped a beat as she took in the striped log walls with white chinking, the gauzy curtains at the windows, and the unique scent of cedar and lavender that instantly reminded her of long nights playing board games around the living-room coffee table with Nan. She fully expected her grandmother to round the corner and throw her arms around them, laughing like she’d just told a joke. But instead, the house was quiet, everything in order instead of covered in things from Nan’s day—magazines open on the counter, a candle lid askew from lighting the candle the night before, an empty wine glass on the mantle. Her stomach plummeted, unexpected tears pricking her eyes.
The dark interior walls were just as she remembered them, although the hand drawings she’d made, which Nan had pinned to them, were now gone. She swallowed the lump in her throat as she ran a hand down the cream-colored 1950s Formica table that was covered with the cleaning products her mother had brought. Leigh’s fingers came to rest on one of the four mint-green chairs with metal legs where she’d sat so many Saturday mornings, nibbling on homemade strudel that Nan had made especially for her. The old wood floors were still covered in tapestry rugs. Her entire childhood flashed before her like a movie reel, and she had to focus on something else before she broke down.
“Colton has a hound dog named Elvis,” Leigh said, clearing her throat and trying to get her mind off of everything.
“He’s a hoot.” Mama pulled two mugs from the cabinet, rinsed them, and poured them each a cup of coffee from the carafe that was warming on the coffee pot, the weight of this etched on her face as well.
When Nan died, her mom had fallen into a depression. Nan had beenherrock too—the two of them nearly inseparable. After years of counseling, Leigh’s mother had finally been able to manage her grief, but she’d never been able to come back to the cabin.
“I actually ran into him at the market when I got here,” Mama said. “He was on his way out and I told him he should stop by. He gave me his cell number.”
The idea made Leigh’s chest squeeze, after their meeting just now at Leon’s. The last thing she needed was Colton Harris sitting on the sofa, neither of them speaking to each other because too much time had obviously passed. She’d rather her memories of him stay perfect as they were.
Mama shuffled over with their two thick, ceramic gray-and-white speckled mugs—the ones they’d had hot cocoa in at Christmastime. She handed Leigh one of the coffees and then settled into a chair across from her and sighed, her gaze floating out the window. “After cleaning everything and going through some of your grandmother’s things this week, I finally decided not to drive back home and slept here last night.”
“Oh?” Leigh said, all her attention now on her mother. “Were you okay during the night?”
“Despite not having Mom here to tell us all sweet dreams like she used to, and missing her more than I ever have, it was the most peaceful night of sleep I’ve had in years. It took me a while, though. I had to go through the tears and the hurt first. But about midway through the week, I just decided to embrace the life she left us. I went down the street, catching up with the neighbors and spending time at the market… It doesn’t make me miss her less, and I still feel like falling apart when I think of losing her.” Her voice broke and she bit her lip.
Leigh nodded. “I miss her, too.”
Mama didn’t say anything, searching out the window for some imaginary thing, her eyes filling with tears.
Even after all these years, it was still too early to talk about Nan. They both needed more time. “I’m looking forward to a peaceful night, though,” Leigh managed.
Mama scooted the cream and sugar toward her. They sat on a little plate with two spoons, making Leigh wonder if they’d need three spoons next week or if two would suffice. Mama was clearly having a difficult time coming back to the cabin. She didn’t need anything else to worry about. Leigh prayed her sister wouldn’t let them down.
“It’s been tough for me lately without your nan,” her mother said. “It’s too quiet in my little apartment.”
When Leigh’s father had passed away five years ago, Mama had sold their childhood home, the space entirely too large for one person. Leigh didn’t want to think about her mother and the long, silent nights she’d spent by herself. Suddenly, a rush of guilt swarmed Leigh at the thought that her job and her flimsy friendship with Julie had been more important to her than this.
“I’m glad you’re here,” Mama said.
Leigh nodded.
“Every creak in the house makes me turn, thinking your nan will be there.”
“I still feel like she’s here, in this house,” Leigh admitted, pouring cream into her coffee and stirring the hot liquid, sending a rich aroma into the air. “Like she’ll come through the door with a bag of groceries or something.”
“I do too,” her mother said.
Leigh sipped her coffee, letting the nutty, aromatic taste of it wash over her.
“So, tell me all about your exciting life up in New York City,” Mama said, shoveling a spoonful of sugar into her mug and stirring.
“There’s not much to tell, really,” Leigh replied, yesterday feeling like a blur. There was actuallya lotto tell, but she just didn’t know where to begin or if she even wanted to put her mother through the stress of it all.
“Are you president of the company yet?” Mama lifted her mug to her lips and took a long sip.
“Not quite,” Leigh replied, taking a sip of her coffee to avoid crying, the misery of all those years she’d spent working from sun up to sun down, with nothing to show for it, bubbling up.
