Morning tea with Sherri was exactly what I needed. She’s a positive lady, one I need around me. Trent has helped me out more than he knows. I don’t think I’ll ever go back to the city.
Sherri offers me a ride home, but I decide a walk will be perfect to mull things over in my head and heart. Plus, I want to check out Thomas Point Lookout. Seth has mentioned it a few times.
After a thirty-minute walk from the town centre, I’m near the cottage. I’m tempted to go inside and sleep after what happened last night. Looking up at the hill a little farther from the cottage, I keep walking.
Arriving at the top, puffed and heaving for air, I realise I’m out of shape. Better fix that. More walking happening from now on.
A seat resides at the highest point of the hill, so I make my way over and sit. My eyes fall upon a glorious view of the ocean. It’s a rainbow of different shades of blue; the sky is clear blue with beautiful white puffy clouds.
“Wow . . .” I breathe. This place is magic.
My thoughts turn to my mother and how she must be going. She hasn’t stopped calling or messaging me. Sometimes I think talking to her might help settle the emotions flowing through me like a rapid river after a huge rain storm. Mum was my closest, most trusted person in the world . . . I wonder if I can find it in me to let her back in. Then my thoughts flip to Crystal, my best friend. Who in their right mind goes out of their way to hurt someone they care for, all for a guy? The pain in my heart at not talking with Mum or Crystal becomes worse each day, but as I asked Seth the other night, how did you forgive those who hurt you?
“Hello!”
A voice from nowhere makes me jump out of my skin, and when I spin around, there is a young girl standing behind me. She has long brown hair and eyes the same colour as the sky. She’s beautiful, but what is she doing up here, and where did she come from?
“Oh hello. How are you?”
“I’m great! Who are you?”
Wow, talk about blunt. But what do I expect from someone who looks about ten years old? “My name is Chloe, and you are?”
“I’m Olive.” She walks around the front and sits with me on the seat.
“Shouldn’t you be at school or something?” She looks to be of school age.
“Nah, I get home-schooled. You aren’t from here, are you?” She eyes me suspiciously.
“No, I’m from the city, but I came here for a holiday.”
“A holiday, or are you running from something?”
Gosh, for a girl so young, she’s switched on and very nosey. Do I have a neon sign flashing across my head alerting those around me I have issues? “Umm . . .”
“Just what I thought. You’re running.”
Who does this girl think she is? “Excuse me? Are you always this blunt with people?”
She ponders my question a moment, looking out to the ocean. “Yeah, I think I am. I don’t get to talk to many people. It’s a rare occasion when it happens.” Her head falls, and she stares at the ground.
My heart hurts for her. “Why don’t you see people much? Are you never allowed out of the house?”
“I don’t get out much. This is a rare opportunity I couldn’t turn down.” Now that is just plain weird. Is she locked up in her house, only allowed out if she’s been a good girl?
“Ookkaay then,” I drawl out. This is one hell of a crazy conversation.
“So, you’re running?” she probes again.
I sigh. “Yes, I’m running. Well, not really running, but not wanting to be around certain people.”
“Why?”
As I’m about to answer my phone rings. Mum’s name is on my screen. Oh, why now?
“Aren’t you going to answer her?” she asks.
“What are you doing, spying on my phone?” The call goes to message bank, and a few seconds later my phone pings, alerting me to a message. Another voicemail. The happiness I was feeling suddenly disappears. Sorrow and sadness is back again.
“You know you shouldn’t stay mad at your family.”
“Olive, you’re only young, and you don’t understand what I’m going through.”
“Yeah, I don’t know, but I do know you shouldn’t leave things unsaid. I remember having a fight with my brother over something pathetic, and to this day we haven’t been able to resolve it.” Her voice cracks, the sadness pours out through her tone.
“Why not?”
“Things are complicated.” She pauses, then continues, “We lost touch, and it’s been a few years.”
“That must be hard. Were you close?”
She turns to stare at me. She is a looker—just wait until she’s older. She’ll have all the boys chasing her.
“Yes, very close. But it is what it is, and I can’t do anything about it right now. But you can.” She looks down at my phone. I know exactly what she’s meaning.
“How do you forgive someone who’s hurt you?” I blurt out, not thinking.
“You just do. You never know what life holds for you and you could get thrown a curve ball and then that’s it. The time you had to fix it is gone, and you’ll be wishing you had.”
She’s right. “You’re a smart cookie, aren’t you, and very mature for your age?”
“I’ve been told I’m not just a pretty face.” She smiles, and a twinkle shines in her eyes. A grin spreads across my face.
We sit in silence for a while. This girl sure is nosey.
“If you spoke to your brother again, what would you say?” I can’t help myself, once again. I have to know.
She doesn’t respond right away, but takes a moment. “I think I would tell him to forgive himself, that I still love him no matter what. And that Mum and Dad are proud of him.” A smile spreads across her face as tears begin to fill her eyes. It’s as though she’s allowing herself to release what she’s been holding on to. Sharing it with someone and getting it off her chest has hopefully helped her.
“That’s beautiful. Short, but heartfelt.”
She shrugs. “Just remember what I said, and don’t leave things too late because you never know how long you have left with the ones you love.”
Wow, talk about a way to rip off the Band-Aid. My wounded heart is now out in the open and vulnerable.
“I’ll keep that in mind. I think you should contact your brother.”
“Yeah, I’ll get my message to him soon enough.”
“Good, cause I think he needs to hear it.”
“He will. Someday . . . Well, I better get going.”
“Okay. I’ll see you around, Olive.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” She smiles and turns, walking back down the hill on the opposite side from where I came.
For someone so young, she’s given me a hell of a lot to process.
My phone pings again—another message. My heart leaps when I see it’s from Seth.
Seth: Hey, did you have a good morning with Nan?
He’s so sweet. I hit reply.
Chloe: Yes, it was wonderful. She’s got so many wonderful stories, hey Mildred?
I chuckle as I hit send. Sherri told me the story of the curse of the dreaded middle name in the family when I was there the other night. I feel so sorry for the guys in Sherri’s side of the family, especially when they’re asked their full names for documents and things like that. My phone pings again.
Seth: Shut it, girl, lol. I can’t believe she told you. That’s just embarrassing. In my defence, it’s a family name. Did she tell you the story?
I hit reply and respond.
Chloe: Yeah, she did. I feel sorry for the men in your family.
I hit send once again, and it’s gone. It’s a name that’s been passed down the line since I don’t know when. Every first-born child’s middle name is Mildred, no matter if it’s a boy or girl. It gets passed down, and it’s been going for as long as Sherri can remember. She’s the first-born in her family, so her middle name is Mildred and her father’s middle name and his father’s and it just goes back in time. Sherri didn’t give me the entire family tree, but you get the point . . . it’s been around a while.
My phone sounds again. My cheesy grin can’t be helped. He has this effect on me.
Seth: Yeah, tell me about it. Are you free tonight?
What could he want?
Chloe: Well, I guess taking a naked swim in the moonlight is out of the question again.
I hit send and wait anxiously. My stomach feels as though it’s getting tied in knots. I swear it’s like watching paint dry waiting for a reply.