“Nah, she said it was good but couldn’t even stomach it after a few sips. Nothing keeps her down, so we need to get some answers,” he states, determined. I nod in agreement.
“I can call Luke in,” I add as a smile plays on my lips. Luke is my best friend and just so happens to be a cop.
Earl chuckles and shakes his head. “Now, that would be a sight to see. She’d manage to put up a fight.”
“Eh, Luke can handle her.”
“I’m going to make a quick breakfast. Would you like something to eat?”
I shake my head and point toward the barn. “No thanks. Have you messed with the animals this morning?”
“No, I haven't yet, but you don’t have to do that.”
“Nonsense. I’m here to help. Afterward, I’ll finish up this railing,” I reply and place my hand on the wooden railing, giving it a shake. There are a few places that need a replacement, and then I’ll work on getting it stained. Earl gives me a wave and retreats inside the house.
I say a silent prayer over Johanna as I walk toward the gate where the animals are kept. The wind sweeps against my body, a slight embrace that feels like a hug. The mornings still hold a slight chill as a reminder of the cold months we had to endure. I swing open the gate and am greeted by a bark.
“Hey, ol’ girl!” I reach down and pat Daisy, the Wileys’ Great Pyrenees, on the head. She gives my hand a lick, her white fur sticking to me. She barks with eagerness. Even with her old age, she’s always ready to work in the mornings.
“Alright, alright, give me a second,” I add and grab one of the wicker baskets that hangs inside the opening of the chicken coop. I gather the colorful eggs and am instantly swept away with the memory of meeting Raine for the first time.
I chuckle, remembering the look on her face as she ran smack into me, crushing several eggs all over my sweatshirt. She was horrified. I, however, had never been happier to be covered in egg yolk.
I pull myself out of the memory and return to filling the feed and water containers, and then I leave the coop door open to allow the chickens to roam the farm. I make my way toward the barn and whistle, signaling Daisy to go in before me. I openthe gate, and Daisy does her job of herding the sheep into the field.
This farm used to contain so much life—sheep, goats, pigs, chickens, and even a few ducks at one point. Raine would always bring some sort of animal needing a home on the weekends she spent here. A few of those animals I helped her find during my visits. An injured blue jay, a few baby bunnies, and even a baby fawn who seemed to have lost its mother. Our walks through the woods behind the farmhouse were always adventurous.
Now, the Wileys kept twelve sheep, twenty-one hens, one trouble-making goat, and Daisy on the farm. It’s the maximum they can keep up with these days. Even Johanna’s garden and greenhouse has dwindled down to a few basic vegetables, fruits, and herbs along with some of her favorite flowers. The thought brings my heart sorrow, remembering how vibrant and full of life this farm once was when I first saw it fourteen years ago. I help when I can, but even that doesn’t seem like enough some days.
I finish up the chores, grab my tools from the bed of my truck, and get to work on the front porch. After I fix a few of the loose boards, a loud bang echoes through the front screen door along with Earl’s panicked voice quickly behind it. I jump up and rush into the house, through the living room, and find Earl hovering over Johanna’s unconscious body on the kitchen floor.
“Jo honey! Jo?!?” he shouts and looks up at me with pleading eyes. “What do I do? She, uh…she just stood up and fell over.”
I move quickly and position myself over her. I check for a pulse but find nothing. I begin CPR while instructing Earl to call an ambulance. Time seems to move slowly. I am thankful for the CPR course I took when Annabelle was a toddler and focus on my pushes to her chest and air breathed into her mouth. Minutes flow by, and I don’t hear theambulance, or the sound of stomping footsteps, or feel the hands pulling me away from Johanna.
Earl hops into the back of the ambulance and as Luke rushes down the driveway in his police cruiser, I jump into the passenger seat. We chase the loud sirens all the way to the hospital.
Chapter Four
Now
Raine
I’ve been awake for two hours, and the sun still hasn’t inched above the horizon. I’m sitting on the couch next to the window in my living room with the curtains drawn back and the blinds pushed all the way to the top. I blink up toward what I can see of the sky through the towering buildings. It’s filled with the dull, gray light that always comes before dawn, like it’s trying to decide how to wake up for the day. I’m attempting to do the same.
I’ve already showered, put on some light makeup, and slipped into a black pencil skirt with an olive-green blouse. My hair is wrapped into a tight knot at the base of my skull. When I look into the mirror, I don’t even recognize myself.
I move into the kitchen to make myself an omelet with avocado toast for breakfast. It feels strange eating breakfast alone. It had become a daily tradition between Samuel and me. We enjoyed spending the morning together before our busy schedules took over.
Behind my eyes is a dull ache from the tears I shed all night and again when I woke up this morning. My eyes feel likesandpaper anytime I blink. When I called Olivia last night, instead of watching a movie together over FaceTime, like we had planned, the movie was left playing in the background, unwatched, as I dished all my feelings out to her. She has always been the best listener, and she also unapologetically gives me her advice whether or not it is something I want to hear—it wasn’t, this time.
As much as it pains me to admit, Olivia is right. It devastates me to think that I have spent so many years working toward building this life in Rockdale, something I am very proud of, only to slowly lose interest in it. There are also certain memories that I’ve worked hard to forget so that I can try to live a more peaceful life. Unfortunately, I never could fully forget. For a while, the past only haunted me when I was alone. But lately, it has clung to my subconscious and surfaces any chance it can.
A thought is a hard thing to control.
I used to want a life that was long-term in the city, and at one point, Samuel felt like the best anchor for that. And then I chose to run away, like I always do when things start to feel too serious, when someone feels too close to my heart.
I can choose to stand here and spend minutes, hours, days, weeks, or even months overanalyzing the relationship I had with Samuel, trying to put the pieces together, justifying what could’ve or would’ve happened, or I can choose to leave the pieces on the floor and move on.
