Page 59 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
“I think you’ve done a pretty good job carrying everything.”
“That’s just it. Idon’tcarry it. I walled it up in Silver Creek and left it all behind. I already told you. When it comes to relationships, all I’m really good at is running.”
She’s saying the words like she’s playing around, but I hear the truth in them. “Nah. I don’t believe it. You don’t have to run. And youdodeserve to be happy. I’m going to keep telling you that until you believe it.”
I only hope she eventually will.
Chapter Sixteen
Kate
I am nervous abouthaving breakfast with Brody’s family.
I shouldn’t be nervous. I love the Hawthornes, and I know they love me. But with my feelings for Brody changing by the minute, I worry his mother will see my confusion written all over my face. Hypothetically, if I did have feelings for Brody, would his family approve? They know pretty much everything there is to know about me. But loving me despite my flaws and wanting their son to be saddled with those flaws for the rest of his life are two different things.
I spend way too much time trying to decide what to wear. Picking an outfit that will both tell the Hawthornes I care about their invitation and want to look nice and also be comfortable enough to hike in is basically impossible. In the end, I settle for a pair of shorts and a lightweight denim button-down, cinched at the waist, and my Birkenstocks. I toss my sneakers into a bag. After breakfast, I can lose the button-down and hike in the tank I’m wearing underneath and change my shoes in the car on the way to the trail.
I stand in the empty living room while I wait for Brody. I’ve made two more trips to Goodwill since Brody helped me haul off the first load, and the same number of trips to the post office to ship the items I’ve sold on eBay. Someone even bought the boob pillow and paid thirty bucks for it. The room is entirely empty now except for the furniture, and that’s going to be hauled off first thing on Monday morning.
I’ll move onto the kitchen next, then tackle the bedrooms upstairs.
What I didn’t expect coming into this is that the more I haul away, the more I’m starting to recognize the house’s potential. It has good bones. Mom didn’t necessarily ask me to do any actual remodeling, but with just a little bit of updating, the house would probably sell for a lot more. The question is whether Mom will want to spend the money to do it.
I pull out my phone and send her a quick text, asking her what she thinks about a kitchen update before we list the house. Her response comes in faster than I expect.
Mom: I think it’s a great idea. But I’m surprised you’re the one suggesting it. I was expecting you to do bare minimum and then get out of there as quickly as possible.
I force myself to breathe before responding. She’s not wrong. When I first agreed to come, that’s exactly what I thought I would do. But sticking around, at least for a few extra weeks, doesn’t feel so bad anymore.
Kate: It hasn’t been so bad. I’m happy to stay and take care of it. Want to give me a budget?
We text back and forth about appliance prices and what a basic kitchen update will cost. I don’t have the first clue about this sort of thing, but Freemont’s real estate experience gives him a pretty good idea, so it doesn’t take long for Mom to text over a few guidelines and suggestions about what and how to update. By the time the conversation is over, I’m pretty sure we’ve seta new record for number of consecutive texts sent without any bickering. But then Mom’s last text gives me pause.
Mom: Be sure to pick out things you really like. Don’t just be economical. Make it beautiful, too. How you would want it if you were going to live there.
It almost feels like momwantsme to live here. I think about the note she left. The way she prepared the house. Stocked it with groceries. For all her nitpicking, she paved the way for me to have a good experience. But why? Why would she want me in Silver Creek when she has no plans to be here herself?
I spend the last fifteen minutes before Brody picks me up sitting on the front porch, scrolling through Pinterest pins and looking for kitchen ideas.
I’m weirdlyexcitedabout a kitchen remodel, and I don’t know how to feel about that. Yes, it sounds more fun than cleaning out closets and selling things on eBay. But it will also prolong my time in Silver Creek. By a month, maybe even two months. By then the summer will basically be over and November—and the Green Race—will be right around the corner.
Taking the job in London would of course be a factor. ButExpeditionhas already told me the end of the summer won’t be a problem. When I mentioned my time constraints, they encouraged me to come out in July to get a feel for the place, then once we’re all sure we want to move forward, we can talk about an official start day. If I even want an official start day. The longer I’m in Silver Creek, the less sure I feel.
I turn off my phone and lean my head back against the rocking chair. For a brief moment, I close my eyes and think about what it would feel like to stay in Silver Creek indefinitely instead. A pulse of anxiety skitters through me, but I push it aside. For once, I try and pretend what it would feel like if Iwasn’ta complete mess full of doubts and hang-ups and fear. What would it feel like if I didn’t have a job that required so muchtravel? What would it feel like if London wasn’t even on the table? What would it feel like to just...stay?
A dream unfolds in my mind, slowly at first, but then with startling clarity. Hiking in the mountains. Picking apples in the Stonebrook orchards. Taking long walks on Sunday afternoons. Eating tacos from the stand next to Triple Mountain.
I can see it. I can almost taste it. At least the taco part of the dream.
But I won’t let myself dwell on it.
It isn’t practical.
It isn’t even logical.
I don’t realize until I’m climbing into Brody’s truck that he was a part of every dreamed scenario.
“Morning,” he says as I buckle my seatbelt.
