TWENTY-NINE

Mia

“Where are you going?”

I turn around from the open door to find Jared behind me, a scowl on his face.

He’d been in Barrie the whole weekend and had just come home, just as I was cleaning up our dinner dishes. I’d offered to stay with Jordy, when he told us he had to head out Saturday morning and would likely be gone until Sunday night. In hindsight, Jordy would’ve been fine on her own, since John showed up midday on Saturday. He left only when Jordy started dozing off on the couch, close to midnight, and was back again first thing this morning, with coffee and pastries from a bakery in town. I tried not to look when he said goodbye to her this afternoon, his arms tight around her waist, and hers wrapped around his neck as they spoke softly with their foreheads touching. He was scheduled for afternoon shifts the next few weeks and wouldn’t be able to see her as much as he’d like.

“Home.”

“Why?” he asks, genuine confusion marring his face. I drop my bag and close the distance between us. I lift my hand and stroke the scruff on his jaw.

“Because I live there,” I tell him gently. “Things have calmed down since the article came out. Jake says things have been quiet at the gate, and I think I need to go home.” I know I’m not explaining myself well when his expression turns back to a scowl.

“I thought you liked it here.” His words are forced out between clenched teeth, and my other hand comes up, soothing the other side of his face. Pushing up on tiptoes, I press my lips to his chin.

“I love it here. I love being here, but this is not my home. I can’t just walk away from what has been my life and slip into yours. I’m only a short walk away.” I open my mouth to say more, but decide against it. I could tell him that staying with him would feel more like a convenience and not a wish or a need. That living together with him, his sister, and a baby would have to be a choice we all consciously make. I could say that despite the size of the place, it would likely get crowded, especially now that Jordy has John in her life as well. I might point out, all three of us are trying to find our feet again, find our own worth, and we might need some time to ourselves to do that. But somehow I don’t think Jared’s open to hearing all my reasons. It’s not that I don’t want to be with him, it’s just that I need for him to ask for all the right reasons. He’s used to getting what he wants, and I want him to work for what he needs.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” I mumble into his neck, as I hug him to me. A hug he isn’t returning. “Come on, Griffy,” I call out to the dog, who reluctantly gets up and lumbers out the door behind me.

“My door is open, Jared.”

-

It’s harder than I thought, leaving him standing in the doorway, knowing he’s following me with his eyes. Dusk is setting in, making it dark in the shadow of the trees. Part of me wants to turn around, but I know that won’t help anyone in the long run. All that’s happened this summer forced us together at high speed. Extreme circumstances can’t be a solid basis to build a life on, right? I can’t deny my feelings—heck, I know down to my core that Jared loves me as he says he does—but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t listen to my gut, and my gut says this is the right thing to do. For now.

Griffin is dragging his ass, clearly unhappy about leaving his cushy spot in front of Jared’s fireplace, but when we emerge from the path onto my driveway, he takes off running.

“Griff!”

I’m not surprised he doesn’t listen. He’s been cooped up in Jared’s house most of the weekend and didn’t venture too far whenever I let him out. He probably needs to reestablish his territory, and I leave him to it, walking up my steps and pushing open the door.

Even though the days are no longer stifling hot, the air inside my house is pretty rank. Dropping my bag, I rush around to open all the windows, in an attempt to blow out the smell. It’s only been a couple of days since I was here to pick up a few things, and I swear it didn’t smell then. When I get to the bedroom, the smell is worse. Much, much worse, and it’s buzzing with flies. I flip on the light switch and am almost gagging in my rush to the window, only to find it already open, the screen on it torn. What the hell?

I don’t see it until I turn to the bathroom. The still shape of what looks to be a bobcat, is covered with flies, the dark stain underneath its body evidence its death was a violent one. Although normally quite a bit larger than a domestic cat, this one is abnormally swollen as a result of decomposition. Not only that, there is dried blood on the walls, on my bed, all over the carpet. It looks a bloodbath in here. Desperate for some fresh air, I rush past it and straight outside, taking in deep breaths, and struggling to fight down the bile.

In my years living here, I’ve found the odd dead mouse or chipmunk inside, but never an animal quite this size. Or encountered a smell quite this pungent. I longingly look across the water at Jared’s house, where the air is at worst tainted with a hint of Ole’s diaper, but nothing like what’s festering inside my cottage. Only one way to get rid of it, and that is get rid of the body.

Armed with a flashlight, I find a shovel in the shed behind my RAV and grab a large bucket. When I walk out, I spot my compost bin open, the lid hanging off to one side. Damn bear must’ve come back. Instead of heading back inside, I round the side of the house to have a look at the outside of my window, which appears to have been how the cat got in. I find Griffin pacing underneath, his nose sniffing alternately up in the air or on the ground below. I shine my light and see a smear of blood on the outside sill, along with a few, long claw grooves marking the logs just below. They look too big to have been made by the cat. I’m guessing there was a pretty pissed off bear, who may not have been too happy finding a bobcat digging through his next meal. Clearly the cat thought escaping inside my house for shelter was a good idea, but not before the bear got him good.

Satisfied to have solved that mystery, I grudgingly head back inside, keeping Griffin outside for now. God knows I don’t want him rolling around in dead bobcat.

It’s already pitch black when I roll the last big rock on the bobcat’s grave, a fair distance from the cottage in the trees. I could’ve tossed the carcass in the underbrush somewhere, but Griffin seemed much too interested, and I was afraid he’d drag it back to the house. So instead I dug a hole, only to realize that wouldn’t be a deterrent for my dog. The rocks covering the shallow grave would have to do. I grab the flashlight and head back, allowing myself that hint of doubt that’s been nagging me all night long. Did I make the right decision coming back here? And that is immediately followed by the next: Will Jared understand?

I don’t hear anyone approach, so when a large body suddenly appears in the beam of my light, my heart almost stops.

“Everything okay?” Jake’s deep voice is a bit of a disappointment. I guess I’d hoped it might be Jared.

“Other than the heart attack you just gave me? Yes, I’m fine.” The rumble of his chuckle is pleasant enough, but his voice sounds stern.

“Sorry, but when I saw a light in the trees, I had to investigate. Make sure you’re safe. Jared called earlier, letting me know to keep a close eye on your place.”

I’m not sure what to make of that. Not sure how I feel about that. I wanted to make sure I’m a choice and not a convenience for him, but maybe I’m neither? Ugh! I’m driving myself insane with self-doubt. Jake is staring at me intently, and I realize he’s waiting for some kind of explanation.

“Oh, uhh...found a dead bobcat inside,” I explain, waving at my house. “I had to get rid of it.”

“That happen a lot?” he wants to know, his gaze turning to the cottage. I shrug my shoulders, even though he can’t see, and my eyes follow where his are fixed.

“My first bobcat,” I mumble, as I step around him and walk back to my house.

The stench is a little less overwhelming when I get inside, thanks to the open windows and the bottle of bleach I scrubbed into the floor, but my bedroom is still not habitable for now. Instead I take a quick shower to get the stench off me and pull both the bathroom and bedroom doors closed. I grab a quilt from the living room, I open the sliding doors and settle in on the couch in my screened-in porch.

With the soft lull of the water lapping at the shore, and the fresh scent of pine and lake in my nose, it doesn’t take me long to drift off. My last thought is how much I already miss those strong arms.

Jared

“You’re an idiot.”

It doesn’t surprise me Jordy feels it necessary to repeat that thought once again. She’s only told me the same thing at least ten times tonight. Starting when I stood there watching Mia walk away. Having my sister tell me I’m an idiot for the tenth time doesn’t make it any clearer than when she told me that first time. I’m still lost as to why I’m the idiot.

All I did was come home from training camp and chill out with my family. I’m not sure what happened this weekend that had Mia pack her bag and head for the hills, and little of what she said in explanation made sense to me. Was she done with me? I’d left her in bed early Saturday morning, still limp and drowsy from the orgasm I gave her with my mouth. I’d withheld my own, thinking it might give me a sharper edge during camp, and had every intention of claiming my own release tonight. Then she walked out that door and my need turned to anger.

Fuck.

I’d all but bared my soul, right into her lap, when all she’d done is whisper a few words into the dark. Maybe she hadn’t even been talking to me.

“God, Jared. Get your head out of your ass,” Jordy hisses, squeezing herself between me and the sliding door I was peering out of. My gaze slides down to meet her exasperated expression. “You’re acting like she’s left you.”

“She has,” I counter immediately.

“You’re blind and you’re an idiot,” she huffs, shoving lightly against my chest. “It’s not that complicated, but you can’t seem to get it through your big head. And for the record, it’s not just your head that’s big. Your ego could stand to take it down a notch or two as well. Let me see if I can dumb it down for you. Everything is a struggle for Mia. Nothing comes easy for her. She’s had to adapt and adjust, and she’s had to fight to do it. You, on the other hand, are so used to simply expecting to get what you want, you don’t even know what it means to struggle.” Her hand comes up to stop me when I want to protest. “I know things haven’t always been easy. Especially not after Mom and Dad died, but you’ve always had people around you working to smooth things out. You know I’m right,” she adds when she sees me raise my eyebrows. “Even with Mia. She’s done nothing but adapt, since we basically forced ourselves into her life. We forced ourselves, but we never had to adjust to her being there. Not ever. That was all on her. Even your reaction now; you’re pissed and standing here all self-righteous, glaring at her cottage from the safety of your house. Why? Because you didn’t get what you expected? Because she chose for herself? Think about that, Jared, think about it hard,” she says, accompanying her words with a solid punch to my shoulder. “I’m going to bed. I want to get a few hours in before my little bottomless pit wakes up again.”

I don’t say a word as she moves away. I barely notice her disappearing down the hall to her room. My eyes are focused, once again, on the dark cottage across the inlet. I take my sister’s advice; I think hard.

-

When the sky starts lighting up again around six the next morning, my eyes are gritty, and no longer angry, as they continue to stare across the water. I may have dozed off a time or two since I flipped a chair around to face the glass doors and sat my weary ass down, but every time they’d open, Mia’s cottage was front and centre. And I thought...I thought so damn hard all night, my head’s throbbing with it.

Jordy spouted some stuff last night that wasn’t easy to listen to. Brutal even, but also the truth. As a result, I’m feeling less than stellar about myself this morning. I tried hard to disprove the picture she painted last night, the one where I’ve not had to fight for much, but I couldn’t. Other than my parents’ death, life has been pretty damn accommodating for me. And I’ve done little but sit back and have all good things come to me. Even my grand gesture of taking in my pregnant sister, was more selfish than it was selfless. I wanted her near—my family near—and didn’t have to fight for it either.

Everything I’ve done this summer was to satisfy my needs.

“Did you even go to bed?” Jordy’s voice has me twist my head around. She walks up to me, her hair piled messily on her head, clearly straight out of bed, with Ole happily snuggled under her chin. She lets him go when I reach out for him, and lay him on my chest, kissing his warm head.

“No,” I softly admit.

“Mmmm.” I feel her fingers run through my hair, and I grab her wrist before she can pull away.

“I’m an idiot,” I whisper, pressing her hand against my face. Her lips ghost over my other cheek with a soft peck.

“I love you,” she gently says as she pulls away. “And you need a haircut.”

“Not the beard, though.” I smile at the easy transition from the heavy to the mundane, as only my sister can manage.

“I’ll leave the beard, but the hair’s gotta go. Next thing you know, you’ll be donning a man bun. I don’t think I’d be able to live with that.” She shudders dramatically as she comes back to the chair, toting scissors.

“Actually, buzz it?”

“What? The hair? That short?”

“Yeah,” I confirm with a smile. “Clippers are in the vanity in my bathroom. I don’t want bald, but as close to it as you can get.”

“You sure? You only used to do that at the beginning of a new season.” I can hear the hesitation in her voice, but I’m determined.

I’ve had my head up my ass, thinking a new start in life meant all I had to do was change my circumstances. But if I truly want a new beginning—a total change in tide—I have to start with me.

“That’s what I want. Mark the start of an entirely new season.”