Page 3 of A Lifetime of Afters
“If I give my notice now,” I mused to Bruce, “we could be gone by Hallowe’en. What do you think?”
Memories of past Hallowe’ens crowded my brain. Usually, I didn’t like to look back, but I felt my lips tipping up in a smile.
Our mothers trained us well. Since we were babies, they’d planned our costumes. The first year, there were only two of us. My brother Max andhim. My mother turned their strollers into pumpkin patches and Lou turned them into pumpkins.
Every year thereafter the costumes became more complicated. Especially as the rest of us came along. Planning began in April most years. We did Scooby Doo, Narnia, and Harry Potter as our numbers allowed.
The year we did Angry Birds things turned violent and required a quick costume change. Hawkley and his younger brother Hunter had to be put on the same side so they’d stop crashing into one another.
I laughed out loud as more memories tumbled in. The snow globe disaster. That costume lasted all of 30 minutes before we returned home demanding to change into the previous year’s costumes.
Hawkley and Hunter’s younger sister Harley, my best friend to this day, and I took over the planning in our teens. Our moms were pissed until we promised to let them help. My lips stretched into a wide, tremulous smile. Of course, they took over, but at least we got to choose the themes. The sewing for Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles kept them busy for months.
And of course, the boys argued over who got to be Shredder. Hawk’s height secured it for him in the end.
The five of us were inseparable.
My smile faded.
Until we weren’t.
I picked at the frayed edges of my ribbon. Looking back on good memories tended to resurrect the bad. The old sadness threatened to pull me under, but I swam under it and carried on.
Because memories of Sage Ridge were mostly sweet. The winters were brutal, but because of the Sage Ridge Resort, which Harley’s family owned, we spent them skiing and snowboarding on the mountain or snowmobiling through the woods. Summers on Silver Lake, climbing the bluffs, and fishing in Little River were arguably better.
Four neighborhoods made up the town of Sage Ridge. Harley and her family lived in Hailey’s Falls, within a few minutes walk to the resort they owned.
Like it was yesterday, I remembered going to the store with the boys to buy spray paint to change the i to an r on the sign, turning it into Harley’s Falls. We caught hell for that stunt.
My eyes crinkled with happiness.
South of Hailey’s Falls lay downtown. I hadn’t been there in years. Anytime I visited my family, I stayed as close to home as possible. I never stayed long enough to shop anyways.
I missed those stores. Had they changed in the past ten years? Did Novel-Tea still host a book exchange? I missed meeting up with Harley at The Beanery. Did Anita still rule the roost at Mary Lou’s candy shop? Mmm, Krippy’s Chippy.
My mouth watered. I could go for some fish and chips.
South of downtown and divided by the river lay the neighborhoods of Little River and Crystal Beach, named for the river and beach they bordered.
I grew up in Crystal Beach. Crystal Beach and Wildflower Bluffs were my playgrounds, my running shoes filled with sand, my socks carting burrs. The footbridge that separated Crystal Beach from Hope Harbor led to Carousel Island. I could not begin to count the number of times I crossed over it after hours to sit on the painted ponies and dream.
Home.
I could go home again.
Where I was loved.
My mouth twisted wryly. Even if it wouldn’t ever be byhim.
Standing, I crossed to my furry frenemy and scooped him up. “Let’s not be too hasty, hm? Might just be time to bite the bullet and grow up a bit. See if I can’t shake things up a bit at work and get a promotion. Get back on dating apps. Join a,” I swallowed then spat out the offensive word, “clubof some sort.”
Bruce’s tiny paw batted a lock of my long hair.
I cuddled him close. “You’re right. I’m not much of a joiner, but Mr. Willis, I need to do something.”
Carrying him into my bedroom, I resolutely tucked the ribbon back into my jewelry box and climbed into bed. My furry frenemy curled into a ball on my chest. His nightly ploy to lull me into complacency. Sometime during the night, he’d move to my head, and I’d wake with a mouthful of cat tail.
I slowly pulled the covers up to my chin, careful not to provoke an attack, and drifted off to sleep with my newfound commitment to apply myself at work.
