31
Jamie
It wasn’t so long agothat I claimed I’d take cold, hard cash over romance any day. Staring at the check for nine thousand dollars, signed Gavin Williams, I wish I could take that sentiment back. I’d take him over any amount of money, any day of the week.
I grip the wrinkled paper check and take in the words paid in full.
That’s it then.
Nearly a month ago, when he said that he wouldn’t be coming back, I believed him. But a part of me clung to the dream that he’d return. That he’d realized I may have started out with the intent to fool him, but along the way, it became real.
This check tells me he’s not coming.
Ever.
As does the For Sale sign out in front of his cabin.
Pretty soon every trace of him will be wiped away. The kids are convinced he’ll come back. Elijah and Tanner say he promised them a camping trip. Shay says he promised, period. I don’t have the heart to tell them that just because someone promises something doesn’t mean it’ll come true.
I’ve stopped working on my glass sculpture. The hope in the floating spheres is a distant memory.
Gran slams a cast iron pot on the kitchen table. “Jamie Lynn!”
“What the heck was that for?” I shove the check in my pocket. I should cash it. That’s what he’d want me to do. He’d want new clothes for the kids, little league, a new tent, new shoes, he’d want us to be happy. I’m sure of it. He just doesn’t necessarily want to be here to see us happy.
“Enough is enough.” Gran gives me a threatening frown. “Everything’s catawampus and you’re not doing anything about it.”
The screen door clatters in the living room. “You tell her, Granny.” Diedre walks into the kitchen, rubbing her hands together and blowing on them. “Dang. It’s cold as Christmas out there.”
Big Tom follows her in. I lift my eyebrows in surprise. I wasn’t expecting anyone this afternoon. The kids are at school and I’m packaging up dozens of orders to mail out. In the past two weeks, I’ve had more than a hundred orders, my glass traveling to places all over the world. I never thought I’d be this successful, especially not this fast, but Diedre says she isn’t surprised. Especially after she posed with my glass in a bunch of her photos.
It’s funny, I’ve addressed packages to Hawaii, New York, Brazil, Australia, France, places all around the world. In the past my heart always yearned to leave this mountain and now even my glass is going. I wonder if in its travels, it’ll ever pass Gavin.
I look at everyone gathered in my tiny, cluttered up kitchen. “Is this an intervention?”
Diedre nods. “’Course it is. We’re tired of seeing you moping. It’s time you went after him, right, Granny?”
The heat of the check burns in my pocket. “Sorry to state the obvious, but he doesn’t want me.”
Diedre glances at Big Tom, then at Gran, “Okay, now’s the time you tell Jamie some old mountain saying that’ll fix everything.”
Big Tom nods in agreement.
Gran narrows her eyes. “When Bobby died—”
“Don’t bring Bobby into this.”
“When Bobby died,” she says more firmly, “I let you mourn. I let you close yourself up into a tight ball and I didn’t demand you open up. I lost your grandpa, I knew how it was. But I didn’t expect you to stay closed up for six years. Nobody expected you to stay on this mountain, moldering away. Least of all Bobby.”
“Gran.” I shake my head.
“Don’t you Gran me. That Billy…” She frowns at me. “That Gavin…”
I smile, because she used to call him Wilbur or Gilbert. I’ve never heard her actually use his real name.
She huffs. “That Gavin made you open up. I reckon that’s scary. But Jamie Lynn, since when were you a coward?”
Gran levels a hard look at me and I think back over the last few years. Unfortunately, I see quite a few instances in which I’ve been a coward. Not selling my art. Not leaving Hollow Creek. Not letting in love after Bobby was gone. But in only a month, Gavin helped me shuck all those things. It’s amazing how only a month can transform an entire life.