Page 112 of The Girl I Once Loved

He was my first love.

And he will be my last.

* * *

I shiver in my jacket as a cold violent wind blows through me, flipping the pages of the paperback I brought to read and almost tearing it apart.

“The wind is starting to pick up, Annabelle,” I say out loud as I store the book in my bag, my sight fixed on the tombstone in front of me. “But don’t you worry. I’m sure Noah must have arrived at the dock by now. Pretty soon, he’ll be here with us. He wouldn’t miss your birthday for the world.”

A smile crests my face when one of the last few green leaves that hasn’t been tainted by the upcoming autumn perches itself on my shoulder, as if Annabelle is also comforting me that Noah will be home soon, just as I’m trying to reassure her.

Like last time, I made sure to bring a cupcake and a candle to celebrate her birthday, but I haven’t had the heart to light the candle yet, hoping that Noah would make it in time. Before Noah left, he promised he’d try and get home by nightfall and meet me here in the cemetery to blow out his mom’s birthday candle with me, but as the sun begins to set on the horizon, I’m not sure he’s going to be able to keep his promise.

At least he can take some comfort in knowing I spent most of the day here. It was actually quite nice. Being alone in the cemetery with no prying eyes about, I was able to talk to Annabelle and tell her what a wonderful, kind-hearted son she has. How loyal and giving he’s become, a far cry from the stepbrother that used to bully and torment me any chance he got.

But as the wind starts to howl and every nearby tree begins to shake, I feel a pang at the pit of my stomach, telling me that something is very wrong and that it has little to do with the turning weather. No matter how hard I try, I can’t shake this eerie feeling away. And as the darkness begins to spread out in the sky above me, so does the awful feeling begin to take root inside me.

“It’s getting pretty late though, huh?” I ask out loud again, aimlessly talking to Annebelle as if she had the means to respond.

Since I’m not sure what time it is, I pick up my phone from my jacket’s inner pocket only to realize that the battery is dead.

“Damn it,” I curse out, then drop the phone to the ground when something shines so brightly at me that it steals my very sight. “Noah?” I call out, holding my forearm over my eyes to shield myself from the blinding light pointed at me.

But I am immediately disappointed when it’s my mom’s voice that replies back to me.

“Skylar! We’ve been looking everywhere for you,” she says, panicked, as I get up from my crouched position.

“Why? Is everything alright?” I ask, but when I see Curt walking ever so slowly behind my mother on crutches, that nagging feeling that has been with me all day comes at me tenfold. “Did something happen to Noah? Is everything alright, Dad? Don’t make me worry.”

“I thought I told you to stay in the car,” my mother reprimands when she sees him following her. “You shouldn’t put any weight on your ankle.”

“So you keep reminding me,” he moans. “Hey, Sky, everything is fine. And no, Noah isn’t back yet, but he should be any minute now. What troubles me more is you not being home when he gets there. Hate to break it to you, kid, but tonight’s not the best night for you to have a sleepover at a cemetery. Best we go home now.”

“But—” I turn to Annabelle’s gravestone and cake.

“No buts about it, Skylar. There is a big storm coming, and the news is telling everyone to keep safe indoors,” my mother chimes in. “We’ve been all over this island looking for you. Just dumb luck we saw Daisy’s car when we did. And thank God she lent you it while on her honeymoon, or we might have never found you in time.”

I nod sheepishly because I can hear the concern in her voice, but I hate that I have to leave when I promised Noah I’d be here upon his arrival. But if my mom is right and there is a big storm coming, then he’ll probably go straight home, hoping I wasn’t reckless enough to stay here and wait for him.

But as I’m starting to pack up my things, Curt stops me.

“Give it here, Sky,” he orders softly, pointing at the small box from a nearby bakery.

I hand him the box containing the red velvet cupcake, to which he opens it and smiles.

“Our boy found himself a keeper, Annabelle,” Curt says, taking the small cake from its confinements and placing it on the ground right next to her tombstone. “I know I’m biased, since I’m the boy’s father and all, but he turned out to be a wonderful young man. You’d be proud of him, sweetheart. He not only has your eyes but your good heart, too. I also know he misses you terribly. We all do,” he says hoarsely as he strikes a match and lights the small candle. “I did my best, Annabelle. If it weren’t for Clara and her girls, I’m not sure we would have made it. I hope that wherever you are now, looking down on us, we’ve made you proud. Happy Birthday, sweetheart.”

The wind blows out the candle as Curt wipes a stray tear from his cheek.

“Now we can go home,” he says, my mother racing to help him with his crutches.

“You might be the sweetest man ever to walk this God’s green earth, you know that, Curt Fontaine?” my mother gushes.

“Remember that when I forget to place the dishes in the sink,” he jokes.

“Come on,” she laughs, but I don’t miss how my mom discreetly turns her head towards Annabelle’s grave and whispers ‘thank you.’

I guess if it wasn’t for Annabelle, we wouldn’t have the family we have today. I think Noah’s mom would have liked to know that her two men were left in good hands. Even after everything that has happened, I hope she knows how blessed we all are and what a fixture she still is in our lives.

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