Page 49 of Something About September

“Out at the hay maze with James,” Marion said, shifting the basket to her hip. “Wind came up overnight and toppled half a row of bales. She’s got a safety inspection at ten and three school buses booked for noon.” Marion smiled with her eyes. “She’s in her element, though. They both are. Loving every minute. It’s their favorite time of year, when a hay maze feels as important as international diplomatic relations.”

Rebecca managed a laugh. “They do love it, don’t they? Do you think they need help?”

“This hay maze has reached a scale that is beyond our ability to help, my dear. There’s nothing we can do but wish them well.”

Rebecca let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “I can come back later.”

“You can come to the main house,” Marion said simply. “You look like you need tea and a talk. I’m not Sabrina, but she learned everything from me. Come. Walk with me.”

The farmhouse bricks were the color of a Golden Delicious; half the porch railings were woven with dried corn husks and tiny white lights. Marion put down her basket. “I’ll finish that job later,” she said. Inside, the kitchen radiated the kind of warmth Rebecca associated with childhood: the low hum of the old fridge, a radio murmuring KayakFM, the leftover smell of baking, spicy and sweet.

“Sit,” Marion said. “Tea or coffee?”

“Tea,” Rebecca said. She didn’t want coffee. Coffee was Cort and their mornings together in the diner.

Marion put the kettle on. “There’s apple-spice or plain old English Breakfast.”

“Apple-spice.”

While the kettle heated, Marion took a tin from the counter and opened it to reveal golden-brown-sugar-dusted mini doughnuts. “Apple cider fritters,” she said. “Sabrina’s creation. I’m not sure how she does it, but she’s constantly coming up with new baking masterpieces in addition to everything else on her list.”

“Baking and cooking makes her happy,” Rebecca said, then paused. “Not that working with you and James running the orchard doesn’t…”

Marion smiled. “No, I get it. We all need a passion that isn’t just work.” When the kettle clicked, she poured, then slid the mug across. “Want to talk about it, honey?”

“Cort and I broke up. Although how do you break up with someone you’ve barely started dating?”

“Oh, sweetie. I’m so sorry. But you and Cort have been circling each other for years. It wasn’t just what materialized between you these past few weeks that was on the table. It was half a lifetime of feelings. What happened?”

Rebecca stared into the tea and began to explain, speaking easily with Marion because she knew her so well. She told her about how close she and Cort had been getting, leaving out how much time they had spent in bed but still feeling her cheeks color. Then she looked up and explained about the run-in with Melanie. How it felt that, in an instant, everything changed. “I said the practical thing, the adult thing. He did, too. And it all felt like the opposite of what I wanted. But it’s over now, and there’s nothing I can do.”

Marion was thoughtful for a long moment.

“I’m going to offer you the same advice my mother gave me, when James and I broke up just after I graduated, and I went off traveling, without a real resolution between us. She told me forever decisions take time, and things that are meant to be can survive a pause.”

“It’s just, it feels over. He said he couldn’t be casual with me,” Rebecca whispered. “And then he asked the question I’ve been trying not to answer: Do I see a future here?”

“And do you?” Marion asked, her tone frank.

“I…don’t know. My life is in Toronto. My job. My apartment. Except when I’m there I feel”—she searched for the word—“flat. And here I feel…everything.”

“Then it isn’t that you don’t know,” Marion said. “It’s that you are holding two true things at the same time.” She smiled, lines fanning from her eyes. “That is called being a person. And I adore Cort, truly, but I don’t think it was fair for him to be looking for answers like this from you. Not yet.”

Rebecca nodded but found she wasn’t able to speak. Marion waited a beat, then kept going. “As for Melanie, and Pip,” she added, “Cort is a father first. Any good one is. Seeing an ex with someone new—” She shook her head gently. “It stirs up all sorts of old reflexes, even if everyone’s happy now. It needs to settle. And it will.”

Rebecca shook her head now. “I’m just not sure,” she said. “It feels so final.”

She took a sip of tea. It was sweet and hot, tasted like mornings after sleepovers here, during her childhood. She held the mug, let it warm her hands, maybe give her the boost of courage she needed. She felt afraid, but she also knew she had to get answers here. “What you said about you and James, breaking up…I’m sorry to even bring this up. But that photo I saw here the other night, and another one I found of Evie and James…it made me wonder if they were ever together. It’s just that I know so little about her. I know it’s not fair to you, but it’s so hard not to ask.”

“It’s fine. Really. Of course you can ask. And I can see why it makes you nervous, Becca. Sabrina spoke to me about this already, told me how you’re feeling about it. And I understand. You’ve had a lot of loss in your life. But you should know we are your family, no matter what. You could never lose us. Not even in that giant hay maze of ours. So, let’s talk, even about the things that feel hard or awkward.”

Rebecca smiled, but it didn’t last. She still felt uncertain. Marion reached out and squeezed her hand.

“Your mother was so special, Rebecca. So passionate. If she wanted something, she reached for it. I have tried, since we lost her, to be more like that. To live with such an open heart. Even if it risks getting hurt.”

Rebecca nodded, felt her eyes fill with tears. “I reached out and grabbed Cort—probably in the way my mother might have, in the same situation.”

Marion laughed softly. “Oh, no. Nothing like Evie. She wouldn’t have waited so long. She would have reached out and grabbed him during high school. And it probably would have been too soon. Now feels like the right time for you and Cort.”