CHAPTER 20 - AVERY
I spent the morning in my room, trying to figure out, and for the life of me not getting anywhere, why Eames would just leave as soon as the plow came on through and the road cleared.
Could there have been any clearer indicator of just how important the last week had been to him? No goodbye, no making sure we’d get together again in the future, not even a pretend? Not even if he didn’t mean it?
I wasn’t just mad and frustrated at him - I was even more mad and more frustrated at myself for caring so much. Clara stopped by my room every hour or so to check on me, but as politely as I could I shooed her away each time - I just wanted to be alone.
Well, that last part wasn’t true. I didn’t want to be alone, but if Eames wasn’t around, alone was better. Argh, I hated what that boy was able to make me do, almost without trying.
He could have put in a little more effort, though? Even left a note, told me what he was thinking, and at least some attempt at closure?
It took me an hour pacing around my room before I realized that despite how worldly and sophisticated Eames Beckett seemed at the time, which was really funny in retrospect, he was actually just a scared little boy. Running away from his father and his responsibilities to the family, and running away from whatever he and I built as soon as a smooth and clear path out presented itself.
And I hated him for it. Even more, I didn’t really hate him at all, because deep down I felt the exact same kind of fear that he did - I was running away from my family too, hiding away in another state, in school where I had thought no one could catch me.
No, I didn’t hate Eames for it - I just wished he could have opened up to me, shared a little more about what he was going through. I might not have been able to help, but at least I could have listened.
And maybe that would have left me feeling a bit better about myself now that it was all over.
As I walked around my room, fuming and making short little outbursts in between throwing myself on the bed and staring out the window, the world outside quickly started to return to normal. The clouds cleared away, and for the first time in what felt like forever I saw the sun as more than a bright patch against a sea of clouds, and I could feel the heat from its rays through the window.
At this rate, the melting snow would quickly turn this area into a lake. The snow was already on its way out — just a little slower than Eames had been. It was almost as if the early morning sun had melted him away.
It took me another couple hours to realize that staying angry about it wasn’t doing me any good, and another 10 minutes to decide that as much wonderful as the experience of staying at the inn had been, it was time for me to get back to my real life as well.
By the time I had gotten ready, changed back into the clothes I’d worn when I arrived and come downstairs, Marty had managed, somehow, to get the inn’s one telephone working, and I was able to call a cab from the nearest town to come and get me.
I said goodbye to Marty and Clara, gratefully accepting the containers of food Clara gave me for the rest of the trip home, and then I stood outside the inn, feeling the warmth of the sun on my cheeks as the cab pulled up.
I took one last look at the inn before the cab turned the corner. I’d never forget it - I’d been through something both traumatic and wonderful while I was there, and I knew without being able to put it into words that I was going to be different as a result. I didn’t really know how yet, but sometimes you can feel those kinds of things.
The ride back to the nearest town was far less exciting than the trip that had begun a week ago at school, and before long I found myself boarding a bus to Meridian for the second time in a long time. My phone had gotten signal again, and I called my parents to give them a brief update of where I’d been, and that I was coming home. They quickly agreed to pick me up at the bus station.
There were a few other people taking the same ride, and it was way weirder than I thought being around people not named Eames, Marty, or Clara. I realized, obviously, that everyone else had experienced the last week very differently than I had, and I wondered if their weeks had reached as high a peak or as low a valley as mine had.
When I got off the bus in Meridian I could see my parents through the windows, standing there with the biggest smiles on their faces. My mother gave me the biggest hug, almost pulling me to the ground, and my father watched on, his hand around my shoulder the entire time we walked back to their car.
I told them the whole story of my ordeal on the drive back, mentioning Eames but leaving out anything other than that he was there. It just didn’t feel right to include that stuff, especially knowing how my parents were.
The house was just as I’d left it, which was comforting after being so long away. I settled back in, washing my face and putting on some comfy old clothes I’d left at home when I went to school, and then realized I didn’t really have anything to do here, so I sat in the living room with my parents while my mother worked on her knitting and my father read a book.
“I just realized something,” I said, leafing through an old magazine and not finding anything to read. My parents perked up, my mother peering over the top of her needles. “My winter break is almost over - I have to head back to school in a few days.”
My parents shared a look, and my father cleared his throat before settling his book on the side table next to his old dark brown recliner. “About that,” he said.
“Your father and I were talking since we got your call earlier.”
I braced myself for what I knew was coming.
“And we were wondering,” she continued, “if maybe you didn’t want to go back to school just yet?” She smiled at me, hopefully, and I knew that even though we were on opposite sides of this debate, both my parents wanted nothing but the best for me.
We just didn’t agree on what that was.
“Maybe you could take some time here,” my father picked up where she left off, “and figure out what your priorities are.”
This again.
Once again I found myself in between a snow drift and a hard place.