Sophie Love - For Now and Forever

She turned on her heel and stomped away, as annoyed with herself and her behavior as she was with Daniel.

But just a few moments later as she slumped beside the fireplace, her stomach growling with hunger, she heard a scratching sound coming from the front door. It was instantly familiar to her – the same sound that she’d heard last night – and she knew that meant Daniel had left another gift for her.

She raced to the door, heart pounding, and flung it open. Daniel had already disappeared. Emily looked down and saw on the doorstep was a thermos flask. She picked it up, unscrewed the lid, and sniffed. Immediately she smelled the same delicious aroma that had been coming from Daniel’s house. He had left some soup for her.

Unable to turn down the demands of her stomach, Emily grabbed the soup and began devouring it. It tasted amazing, like nothing she’d ever had before. Daniel must be an incredible cook, another skill to add to the plethora of them. A musician, avid reader, cook, and handyman – not to mention tasteful interior designer – Daniel’s talents were really starting to stack up.

That night, Emily curled up in the master bed, more comfortable than she had been last night. She’d cleaned the covers and dusted every inch of the room, ridding the place of the smell of abandonment. It felt good to have the house in some kind of livable condition – even if some of the radiators were still not really working fully. But knowing she’d achieved something, had stood on her own two feet for the first time in seven years, really made her proud. If only Ben could see her now! She already felt so different from the woman she’d been when she was with him.

For the first time in a long time, Emily felt herself looking forward to the next day and what it would bring: specifically, electricity. If she had a working fridge and oven she could finally cook some food. Maybe even repay the favors that Daniel had been doing for her by making him a meal. She wanted to make things right with him before she left at the very least, since she had pretty much descended on his life and caused chaos.

The more Emily thought about the prospect of returning home, the more she realized she didn’t want to. Despite the trials and tribulations she’d already experienced over the last two days in the house, she felt a sense of purpose here that she hadn’t felt for years.

What exactly did she have back in New York worth returning for anyway? There was Amy, of course, but she had her own life and wasn’t exactly available often. Emily thought then that maybe it would be a good idea to extend her vacation a little. A long weekend in the house was hardly enough to sort out anything, and it would be a waste of effort to get the electricity working if she was just going to pack up and leave again so soon after. A week would be a better amount of time. Then she’d really get to experience the house and Maine, really recharge her batteries and give herself some time to work out what it was she truly wanted.

Being in her parents’ old room was cozy and comforting, and Emily was struck by a sudden memory of coming in here as a very young girl, snuggling up between them and listening to her father read her stories. It was something that became a habit, a way for her to be close to parents who seemed, to her young mind, preoccupied with her new baby sister, Charlotte. It was only through the lens of Emily’s adult eyes that she realized it was less that they were preoccupied with Charlotte, and more that they were avoiding their doomed marriage.

Emily shook her head, not wanting to remember, not wanting to relive those memories she had spent so many years banishing. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop them flooding her mind. The room, the house, the little trinkets here and there that reminded her of her father, all of them were culminating in her mind, bringing back to her the terrible memories she’d tried so hard to forget.

Memories of how the stories in the large master bed had stopped abruptly one tragic day; the day Emily’s life had changed forever, the day her parents’ marriage had been dealt its final, undefeatable blow.

The day her sister died.

After a night of deep, dream-filled sleep, Emily woke to the sensation of warmth on her skin. It was so unfamiliar to her now to not feel cold that she sat bolt upright, suddenly alert, and discovered a shard of bright sunlight streaming in through a gap in the curtains. She shielded her eyes as she pulled herself out of bed and went over to the window. Drawing back the curtain, Emily reveled in the sight that opened up before her. The sun was out, reflecting brilliantly off the snow, which was melting fast. On the branches of the trees beside her window, Emily saw water droplets trickling down from the icicles, the sunlight turning them into drops of rainbows. The sight made her breath catch. She had never seen anything so beautiful.

The snow had melted enough for Emily to decide it was possible to now venture into town. She was so hungry, as though Daniel’s soup delivery the day before had reawakened the appetite she’d lost after the drama of breaking up with Ben and quitting her job. She dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, then put her suit jacket over the top because it was the only thing she had that even semi resembled a coat. She looked a little strange in the ensemble, but figured most people would be staring at the stranger with the beat-up car squatting in front of the abandoned house anyway, so her outfit was the least of her concerns.

Emily trotted down the steps into the hallway, then opened the front door to the world. Warmth kissed her skin and she smiled to herself, feeling a surge of happiness.

She followed the trench that Daniel had dug along the pathway and followed the road toward the ocean where she remembered the shops to be.

As she strolled along, it felt a little bit like she was walking back in time. The place was completely unchanged, the same stores that had been there twenty years previously still standing proud. The butcher shop, the bakery, it was all as she remembered. Time had changed them, but only in small ways – the signage was more garish, for example, and the products inside had modernized – but the feel was the same. She reveled in the quaintness of it all.

Emily was so wrapped up in the moment she didn’t notice the patch of ice on the sidewalk ahead of her. She slipped in it and went sprawling on the ground.

Winded, Emily lay on her back and groaned. A face appeared above her, old and kindly.

“Would you like a hand up?” the gentleman said, extending his hand to her.

“Thanks,” Emily replied, taking him up on his kind offer.

He pulled her back onto her feet. “Are you hurt?”

Emily cricked her neck. She was sore, but whether that was from falling off the sideboard in the pantry yesterday or slipping in the ice today it was impossible to tell. She wished she wasn’t such a klutz.

“I’m fine,” she replied.

The man nodded. “Now, let me get this right. You’re the one staying up in the old house on West Street, aren’t you?”

Emily felt embarrassment creep into her. It made her uncomfortable to be the center of attention, the source of small-town gossip. “Yes, that’s right.”

“Did you buy the house off of Roy Mitchell then?” he said.

Emily stopped short at the sound of her father’s name. That the man standing before her knew him made her heart lurch with a strange sensation of grief and hope. She hesitated a moment, trying to collect her bearings, to piece herself back together.

“No, I, um, I’m his daughter,” she finally stammered.

The man’s eyes widened. “Then you must be Emily Jane,” he said.