Page 25 of Five Years
“Here.” She placed the cold compress on Ariana’s neck. The tingling sensation from the ice pack was immediately dominated by the goosepimple sensation Leah felt when Ariana touched her hand to hold the compress in place.
“Thank you,” she acknowledged.
Leah hit the small plastic lever on the kettle, which brought it to life. A few moments later, she placed a stylish blue mug, with the cutest brown rustic design, next to Ariana’s fudge-wielding hand.
“Drink this,” Leah smiled.
“You remembered,” Ariana smiled softly.
“Of course.”
There was no forgetting. She was well aware of the remedies for Ariana’s episodes. A cold compress helped dull the ache. Warm showers or baths for the more severe, stress-induced episodes—but that would be deemed inappropriate now. A hit of caffeine would usually bring her back to life. Simple things. The part where she used to sit and kiss her forehead until it disappeared was not on the menu anymore.
“Mmm, this is so good,” Ariana expressed.
“At least I won’t get into trouble for eating it now,” Leah laughed.
“Why would you get into trouble?” She craned her neck.
“I don’t think it’s particularly kosher for the unwanted, unpaying guest to eat the fudge.”
“What makes you think I paid?” Ariana smirked. “When your father tries to make up for his abysmal choice in women, he pays for the annual family trip, and you don’t question it. If I had a choice, I would be back in New York.”
Ariana loved her parents, but there was a big difference in their personalities. Her mom took the time after their divorce to find herself—to build foundations on her own as a single parent, to understand what her purpose was now that she was no longer awife. And she did. Ultimately, that led to her finding her second husband five years later, and it all started to make sense.
Steven, on the other hand, ran headfirst into a relationship with a blonde ten years his junior and ignored every red flag she presented on day one and beyond. Steven was well aware of Ariana and her siblings’ dislike of his new wife, but he chose to remain oblivious, as though she would somehow become a better person—or Ariana would grow bored of disliking her. Neither had transpired.
“Oh, so we’re both freeloaders then? That makes me feel better,” Leah joked.
“Either way, you have just as much right to be here as I do. Between our past and your cult-like devotion to my sister, you’re practically part of the family.” Ariana adjusted her neck so the ice pack would stay in place while she sampled another flavour.
“Cult-like,” Leah laughed. “Thank you, for making me feel welcome.”
“You’re always welcome.”
Ariana said it with a sincerity Leah hadn’t witnessed in a long time. Her green eyes caught the ray of light bursting through the kitchen windows—they shimmered so brightly that Leah couldn’t help but stare. She reached for her cup of coffee, the small scar on her upper right lip visible as she pressed her mouth to the edge of the rim. Leah had the urge to reach out and touch it, but she didn’t.
Ariana exhaled. “This is great coffee.”
“I learnt from the best.”
There was a moment of silence. Their eyes avoided each other. The air became heavy. It was hard for Leah—to be in her presence, to remember the way they used to be together, the way they used to laugh and talk for hours on end—but now, she didn’t know what to say.
Ariana fidgeted with the handle of her coffee cup, her eyes flicking between the box of fudge and Leah. She so desperately wanted to remove all the tension from their relationship so they could move forward with a newfound understanding, but she couldn’t find the right words to help ease the transition.
Finally, Ariana broke the silence. “Try this.”
Ariana cut a small piece of the Chocolate Walnut Fudge and held it out toward Leah. She leaned forward, allowing Ariana to bridge the gap between them. There was a teasing glint in her eye as she slowly moved the fork towards Leah’s parted lips. The rich, chocolatey flavour melted on her tongue; a small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth as Ariana slowly removed the fork.
The small gesture seemed to break through the awkward tension between them.
The intimate silence was disturbed when Grace pushed through the front door, stroller first, with a suspicious look on her face.
SIX
Large splatters of rain hit the windows of a home décor store in Downtown South Haven. Leah, Grace, and Ezra had clambered inside moments earlier when the heavens opened and the downpour became too much for the thin rubberised raincoat Leah wore. It was a last-minute purchase—the khaki coat was a fashion statement. Grace was a mom now, so her coat was weatherproof, baby-proof, and probably thick enough to withstand a week stranded in the middle of a snowstorm—the reason they were cooped up inside the store, 100% Leah’s fault.
They’d spent the morning at the Farmer’s Market, followed by a trip downtown to browse the diverse range of boutiques and souvenir stores. Leah found a piece of local artwork perfect for a free space on her bedroom wall. It was no bigger than A3, an oil-based painting depicting a sunset scene on Lake Michigan. The artist had skilfully captured the beauty of the lake; intricate brushstrokes created a sense of movement in the water, while the more erratic strokes in the sky cast a soft glow over the rest of the painting. The shades of orange and gold set the scene ablaze, instantly holding Leah’s attention.
