Page 111 of The Way I Hate Him
My phone beeps next to me, and I glance down at it, seeing that it’s a text from Ryland.
Perfect.
Ryland:We’re going to Cassidy’s grave tomorrow for her birthday. Want to meet up and drive together?
Holy shit . . . it’s her birthday tomorrow. How did that slip my mind? I knew it was happening this week, but Jesus, I completely forgot about it. What kind of shitty sister does that make me? Guilt swarms me as I text Ryland back.
Hattie:Yes, let me know when and where, and I’ll be there.
Ryland:I took tomorrow off to be with Mac. Aubree is leaving Glenda to run the store as well. Mac wants to make Cassidy’s cookies and sing her happy birthday.
I suck in a sharp breath as I think about what that’s going to be like, seeing a little four-year-old girl sing happy birthday to her dead mother . . . fuck, not something I want to witness. But I don’t really have a choice in the matter.
Hattie:Okay. Want me to drive out to the house?
Ryland:Probably be best. Grab a strawberry rhubarb pie from The Sweet Lab and a new puzzle. Mac mentioned those were Cassidy’s favorite things to do with her.
Hattie:Sure, I can do that. Anything else?
Ryland:That’s it. I’ll see you tomorrow.
I look at the time and realize if I don’t get out of bed now, the stores will close, and I won’t be able to get the puzzle and pie. So I slip on a sundress and shoes, feeling far too emotionally exhausted for any of this.
I head up Almond Ave toward Pieces and Pages. To the left, Five Six Seven Eight is bustling with music as an outdoor salsa class takes place on the lawn. With a pink feather boa wrapped around her, Ethel waves to me and motions for me to join, but I politely smile and shake my head.
No way will I be doing any sort of salsa dancing right now.
I pass Sozzled, the saloon, aka bar, in town and consider popping in for a quick drink. Maybe I will tonight. Nothing like getting drunk alone to block the feelings of having to deal with your dead sister’s birthday.
Rodney’s Railroad Museum is next, a small red shop plastered between two buildings. It’s one of Almond Bay’s treasures because Rodney has spent countless hours building a replica of the town in model train scale. It’s really cute. There’s even a person with a pink boa near Five Six Seven Eight. Ethel was “tickled” by the addition.
I skip past The Sweet Lab because I don’t want to carry a pie around while looking for a puzzle and head straight for Pieces and Pages, my favorite store in town. And that’s where I get lost for the rest of the afternoon.
* * *
Hattie:Pie and puzzle has been secured.
Ryland:Thank you. What are you up to?
Hattie:Going to get drunk.
Ryland:Think that’s a good idea?
Hattie:No. But after attempting to find a puzzle Cassidy would like and picking up her favorite pie, I need some shots in my system.
Ryland:Be careful.
Hattie:It’s Almond Bay, Ryland. What can happen?
“Haven’t seen you in a while, Hattie,” Joe, the owner of Sozzled, says.
I take a seat on a barstool and sigh. “School will do that to you.”
“What can I get you?”
“Something that will get me drunk,” I answer. “And before you question me, tomorrow is Cassidy’s birthday. I need something strong.”
Lucky for me, this is a moment when everyone in the small town knows each other, and that simple request is understood without any more questions.
