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So instead of peeking into her backyard every five minutes like a lovesick teenager, I’m using my day off to do something I’ve been avoiding for almost a year now.
I’m finally turning this house into my own.
As much as I love my mother and miss her every day, she’d hate to think I was still stuck. That I wasn’t living my life.
“What’s going on?”
I look up as my father appears in the doorway of my mother’s old room.
It still feels weird to think of him as my father. Hell, it’s weird to think of anyone as my father. I’m sure I’ll eventually get used to it.
I wonder if Wynter’s going through the same thing. If she still sees Wyatt as her husband even though she’s planning on divorcing him.
“It’s time I finally got rid of Mom’s things.”
“I see that.” He steps farther into the room, his gaze sweeping over the piles of clothes covering the bed, along with the stacks of boxes I’ve taped together.
“All her clothes have just been sitting in this room, collecting dust. It’s time to put them to better use. Make this house my own.”
“Good for you. How can I help?”
“Do you mind going through those?” I point at the clothes on the bed. “Check them for any stains or wear and tear. There’s a women’s shelter a few miles from here. I’d like to take anything that’s still in decent condition there.”
“Of course.”
He gets to work sorting through my mom’s old clothes while I start on the bathroom.
As nervous as I was about reaching out to Declan when I first learned he was my father, I’m glad I took that leap of faith. And I’m glad I’ve had this time to get to know him. Having him around has actually made this first Christmas without my mom a little more bearable.
I figured he’d make today easier, too.
Opening the medicine cabinet, I sort through all the pill bottles still lining the shelves, with even more stashed under the sink. They serve as a reminder of how much of a fighter my mother was, especially the last few months of her life. Despite her objections, I’m grateful I left college to take care of her.
If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have had that time with her. Wouldn’t have been there for movie nights or stargazing or all those mornings she could barely get out of bed but insisted on making cookies together anyway.
I wouldn’t trade that for anything, even though I knew how it would end.
“How was your date the other night?” Declan asks as I place a large box of pill bottles by the door. “What did you say her name was? Rowan?”
I still, having pushed my date this past Saturday to the back of my mind.
When I met Rowan a few weeks ago, I thought she seemed fun. Beautiful. Vivacious. A woman who never runs out of things to say or stories to tell.
But then Wynter showed up in Sycamore Falls.
“It was…good.” I grab a marker and write PHARMACY across the top of the box.
“Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound promising.”
“She’s a beautiful girl. Funny. Witty.”
“But you’re not interested,” he says.
“Not like I thought I would be. Or like I wanted to be.”
“But you’re still seeing her?” He arches a brow as he takes one of my mom’s dresses off a hanger.
“Why do you say that?”
