Page 47 of Someday

She nods. “Not picky.”

I get a glass out of the cabinet and open the bottle, pouring a hefty amount.

“Whoa,” she says. “That will knock me out.”

“You don’t have to drink it all if you don’t want it.”

“Oh, I want it. It’s been a day.” She flushes and then says, “Yesterday feels like forever ago. Thanks again for…everything.”

I relax a bit, glad we’re getting past all this civility and moving toward where it felt like we left off last night.

You’re trying to be her friend, I tell myself. I still haven’t adjusted to the fact that I’m willing to try this, but I shove that down for now.

“Sounds like you were surprised by Hilary and Abby’s visit. Is it hard to be around them?” I grab a beer and motion toward the deck. “Wanna sit out there for a while?”

“Sure.” She follows me out and Fred takes off down the deck stairs as soon as we sit down. “I would love seeing more of them if it didn’t involve being in the house.”

I wonder about the level of horror she experienced in that house for it to keep her away all this time and for her to still not want to be in there.

“I wasn’t kidding about tearing it down. It would take a permit, but that’s doable.” I pause and then ask, “Do you have any good memories there?”

“All the times you snuck in.” She glances at me, and the sky is just bright enough to see that she flushes when she says it. “You made everything better. I did prefer being at your house though…by far. I loved how comfortable everyone was around each other. You guys talked with Grinny and Granddad about things my parents and I wouldnevertalk about. I talked to Grinny more than I could with my mom, and yet, my mom thought we were so close.”

“I’ve been thinking about it all day…and all night,” I admit. “I thought you were close to your mom too. The times I was around you and your parents, they seemed positive and supportive…and slightly controlling, but they allowed you to do things too…like the group trips we took and you spending so much time at our house.”

“They were both so busy. Horses consumed my dad and church consumed my mom…and reputation consumed both of them. I think you and I got away with a lot more because you’re a Landmark, and that looked good for them.”

That thought makes me cringe. I hardly think about the fact that my ancestors built this town. The Landmarks started out as ranchers here, and then decades later, my great-grandfather opened the Landmark Mountain Lodge & Ski Resort after growing up on this land.

My brothers and sister and I have never wanted to be anywhere else. I suppose it’s unusual for five siblings to feel that way about the small town they’ve grown up in, but it’s home.

What I could do without is the occasional attention we get just for being Landmarks. That part is unnecessary, and I’d rather just do away with it forever. I don’t need that privilege shit.

“Do you have good memories of your mom?” I pause. “We don’t have to talk about this if it’s making you uncomfortable…or sad.”

“I think maybe I’ve needed to talk about it. I feel lighter today. But that’s also because you and I are talking, period,” she says, her eyes shy when she glances at me. “I have a friend—Marlow—and before I told you last night, she was the only other person I’ve ever said anything to about my parents.”

By now the sun has gone down and the lights on the deck and down by the water are providing the light, along with the stars that are starting to put on a show.

Fred jogs up the stairs and stretches out at our feet.

“Wow, it’s so beautiful out here, Theo. You’ve really created something magical.”

“Thank you.” My voice is husky.

I can’t count the times I’ve wished she was here. It seems impossible that it’s happening now, and since it would be foolish to get used to it, I figure I should just ask everything I want to know.

“Did your mom try to stop him from hurting you?”

I hear her quick intake of breath and wish I could take back the question.

“I shouldn’t have—” I start.

“No, it’s okay. Yes. She did. Not as much as I wish she would’ve…but there were times she did when it counted. Times when, if she hadn’t, it would’ve been so much worse for me. She just didn’t ever consider leaving him, and that’s what I held against her more than anything. I understand better now why she felt she couldn’t—same as why I didn’t tell anyone. Right or wrong, we were scared and didn’t believe there was a way out of it.”

She takes a long sip of her wine and leans her head back against the chair.

She laughs softly and turns to face me. “Do you remember that time Granddad almost caught us skinny-dipping in that water right there?”

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