Page 59 of Grump Hard
Maybe that’s why he’s always felt like a member of my tribe and why, beneath my sadness and exhaustion, a tiny flame still burns.
It’s hope, there for me the way it has been for so long.
There’s still a chance Luke will figure this out before it’s too late. That he’ll look in the mirror and realize he’s worthy of love, even when he makes mistakes.
That he’ll decide he wants to know what love is and that I’m the girl to show him.
Humming an 80s song beneath my breath, I stand, wincing as my stiff legs protest the cold. The snow is falling more heavily now, thick flakes drifting down from the darkening sky, catching in my hair and on my eyelashes. I blink them away as I aim myself toward the edge of town.
I need to move, to walk off the emotional turmoil of the afternoon until I feel steadier in my skin.
Automatically, my feet head in the direction of my parents’ house, my lifelong refuge from the storm. There, I know Mom will make tea—the loose-leaf stuff that she saves for special occasions and emotional emergencies—Dad will give me a big hug, and neither of them will ask why I look like I’ve been crying until I’m ready to talk about it.
And if I don’t want to talk, that will be fine, too.
I really am a very lucky woman to have been raised surrounded by such selfless, patient, persistent love.
As I walk, my boots crunching on the thin layer of snow accumulating on the gravel on the shoulder of the road, I force my thoughts to brighter things.
To the perfect presents that I’ll wrap for my parents tomorrow.
To all the incredible pet portraits I took this year, and how my “year-end” social media montage will really be something this December 31st. To Candy and our plans to join the Silver Bell Falls seniors for their Disco ‘Til Dawn celebration on New Year’s Eve. I don’t know about the rest of the country, but old people in Vermont know how to party and have some serious stamina.
Probably all the hiking in the summer and shoveling snow in the winter…
“Help! Oh, please, help,” a frantic voice calls from up ahead, pulling me from my thoughts. I look up to see Willow running toward me down the snow-dusted road. “Holly, is that you? Oh, Holly, thank God.”
“What’s wrong?” I shout, jogging toward her. “Are you okay?”
Willow’s purple coat flares behind her like a cape, her silver hair has come loose from its bun, and her usually peaceful gaze is frantic. I’ve never seen her like this and instantly fear something’s happened to my parents.
“My car wouldn’t start, and the phone lines are down out our way.” She gasps as she nearly collides with me, her hands reaching out to brace herself on my arms. “It’s Cheeks. He’s gone. And in terrible danger.”
I experience a brief flood of relief that Mom and Dad are all right, followed closely by worry for my favorite chipmunk. “What happened?”
“He was visiting Maple, the calico who lives above the bookstore.” Willow’s words tumble out as she continues to fight for breath. “He was out on the porch with her, having a snack, when Peanut, that angry dog from the tree lighting ceremony, attacked them. Calico ran back inside, but Cheeks…” She shakes her head. “Margaret said she saw him run behind the mercantile, but when she went to look, he was… She couldn’t see…”
“Okay. Got it. Don’t worry, we’ll find him,” I assure her. “Are my parents at home? You know they would have been happy to drive you to town.”
Willow’s brow furrows. “I don’t know. I was so frantic. When my car wouldn’t start, I just started running.” She swallows before adding in a softer voice, “I can’t sense his energy, Holly. I always can, even when he’s far away. But now… What if he’s…”
She can’t voice the fear, but I understand perfectly.
“We don’t know anything for sure,” I say firmly. “You’re the one who taught me how important it is to stay in the present moment, right? To only consider what the universe is giving me when it’s sitting in the palm of my hand?”
She nods, seeming at least a little bit soothed by the reminder. “You’re right. Take only what comes, and you’ll only ever grieve what’s truly lost. It’s the best way to reduce suffering.”
“Exactly,” I say, grateful to see her recovering her center. “Now, where did Margaret say she saw him last?”
“Behind the mercantile, not far from the forest.”
My stomach clenches. The woods are dark, dense, and full of chipmunk predators. Even if Cheeks managed to get away from Peanut in time, he won’t be out of the woods yet.
Literally…
And the snow is really coming down now. If it keeps up like this, the drifts will soon be over a little creature’s head, and the sun is setting soon.
All good reasons to hurry.
