Page 30 of The Last One You Loved
Her dark brows furrowed, and it hit me in the gut how much like my own they were—dark and thick compared to her much lighter hair. Something twisted in my stomach, a niggling thought that left me before I could tie it down.
“Do you not like craps?” she asked.
The smile stayed on my face as I said, “I’m not sure I’ve ever had them.”
“Oooooh. They are soooooooo good, and Nana makes the best ones. They are like pancakes but skinnier, and she stuffs them with strawberries and covers them in whipped cream. Daddy says they make me hyper, but Nana always lets me have them when I ask.”
“Oh, you mean crepes,” I said, finally catching on.
“That’s what I said, craps.”
My chest filled with another chortle that I barely held back.
I sat up, and the little girl plopped down on the bed near my feet. “Auntie Gemma said you and Daddy were best friends.”
My heart squeezed, and I nodded.
“My best friend is Missy, but she’s mean to me sometimes, so Daddy says she isn’t a real friend and that it takes time to find the right person to be your bestie. But Missy invited me to her birthday party at the teahouse next Friday. That’s after Thanksgiving, in six days. Did you know there are actually seven days in a week? I learned that in kindergarten. I’m in kindergarten because I’m five. I won’t be six until August seventh. When’s your birthday?”
The chatter should have been annoying in my half-asleep state, but it was oddly addicting, like I could listen to it for days.
“My birthday is November seventh,” I told her.
“That’s the same number as mine! Wait. Does that mean you just had a birthday?” she screamed. “You’re so lucky. What did you get? I want Chester and Charlotte to find their friends, Chantelle and Chin, for my birthday.” She shoved the unicorns in my direction again. “But Daddy says they’re improbable to find.” She danced the girl unicorn in front of my face as I bit my lip, trying not to laugh at her sayingimprobableinstead ofimpossible. “But look at what Nana found! She gave me Charlotte last night when we went to tell her you were here.”
Her cheerful attitude was something I needed in my life. A positive outlook I wasn’t sure I’d ever owned because hope had always failed me. Even now, coming back to Willow Creek, I’d had it slammed out of me before it could even start to really grow.
Her smile faded as she glanced at the clock on the bedside table.
“Oh no. How long have I been here? Nana told me that if we weren’t back in ten minutes, she’d start without us. I don’t know how to tell time yet. Do you?”
My lips twitched. “Yes, I know how to tell time, but as I don’t know when you got here, I’m not sure how long it’s been.”
“You better get up, then.” She darted to the door. “Nana said just come as you are because we’re all in our pj’s.”
She glanced down at her thermal pajamas peeking out below a white fluffy robe covered in rainbows and a pair of fuzzy slippers with hard soles.
My gut twisted at the thought of seeing Eva. I wasn’t sure I was ready to see any of the Hatley family again. They had to hate me, not only for hurting Maddox but for leaving and not keeping in touch with them. My cheeks burned when I thought about the care packages Eva had sent me when I’d first gone to college that I hadn’t known how to say thank you for. Each package had been a painful reminder of what I’d left, and I’d simply wanted to forget it all. It had been selfish and cruel, trying to focus on only me and my dreams.
It made my chest ache more, tears threatening to come. The fact I only had Sally in my life was my fault. I could have had the Hatleys, and I’d thrown them away.
“Thank you for inviting me, Mila, but I’m thinking I need to head out soon,” I said because I wasn’t sure I could face any of them, wasn’t sure they really wanted me there. Maddox surely hadn’t.You need to fucking leave, reverberated through my head.
Mila was nodding at my words. “Nana said you’d say no, and she told me to tell you she’d be crushed if you didn’t come and have breakfast. She says it’s beenten yearssince she saw you.”
The little girl said ten years as if they were a hundred, as if it was beyond her comprehension. Then, her smile went away, and her eyes looked sad.
“I don’t want Nana to be sad, so you have to come.” She shifted her head as she assessed me. “You’re sad, too. Maybe Nana’s craps will make you feel better because they always make me feel like I can jump from the tire swing in our yard to the porch. I haven’t been able to do it yet, but soon I will.”
Surprise settled through me, leaving me a bit speechless that this little child could somehow sense the shadow of sorrow hovering around me. A sorrow that was tinged with fear and regret.
Mila jumped down and pulled on my hand. “Come on. We don’t want to miss the craps, Miss McKenna.”
“It’s just McKenna. You don’t need the Miss.”
She nodded and then pulled harder on my hand. I let her drag me up and out of the bed. I looked down at my body, thankful I’d fallen asleep in a pair of yoga pants and an old UC Davis tee rather than my underwear and a tank top like I normally wore to bed.
I tugged her to a stop outside the bathroom. “I have to, uh, use the bathroom first.”
