“No, I get it,” Dean says. “You're super independent. Besides, after everything you've been through, I can understand your being uncertain.”
I smile and toss a few bags of the kinds of snack foods I'm definitely not supposed to eat but are just too good to pass up into my cart. It's getting to be a fat and sugar extravaganza in there, and I kind of just want to climb in. But I'm an adult, so I don't get to do things like that. I'll just wait until bed and crawl in beside Sam with an extra spoon.
“That's the thing, Dean. I'm not uncertain. Not even a little bit. Of everything in my entire life, Sam is what I am most certain about. He has been there for me since we were kids. Even when I walked away from him, I did it because I knew what I wanted. I knew if I didn't, I would never leave Sherwood. I'd spend the rest of my life with him, right here. That hasn't changed," I say.
"So, why did you leave?" Dean asks.
"Because I had to. There were things I needed to do. But I still found my way back to him. And I'm happy where we are. Not because I don't want to be anything else. Not because I'm afraid of moving ahead. Just because I'm happy. You talked about the upheaval and confusion in my life. And you're right. I've had plenty of that. But it didn't make me not want a commitment. It makes me feel good to just have something solid and real."
"I'm happy for you, Emma."
"You know what? I am, too. But I won't be if I have to face Janet with a plate of birthday s'mores rather than a cake, so let's get back to the house."
We get to the front of the store, and I look up and down the registers, then frown.
"What's wrong?" Dean asks.
I glance over at him. "Huh? Oh. Nothing. It's just that Gabriel isn't here. He hasn't been the last few times I've been shopping." I join a line, and when I get to the register, the cashier smiles at me. "Hey, Lucy."
"Hey, Emma. How are you doing?"
"Good. This is my cousin, Dean. He's visiting for a bit," I point to Dean behind me and see Lucy blush.
"Nice to meet you," Dean says.
She keeps smiling, but not saying anything, so I decide to rescue her.
"I haven't seen Gabriel for the last couple of weeks. Does he still work here?" I ask.
"He does," Lucy says. "He's been on leave. His grandmother passed. He's supposed to be back next week."
My heart aches for the young, hopeful man who came to Sherwood to take care of the grandmother he loved so much. He expected this to happen. He wasn't waiting for a miracle or planning for her to suddenly get up and make his favorite stuffed grape leaves he told me about after one grocery trip when I dipped into the marinated olive bar. Gabriel came only to show her the same love she’d shown him in the last part of her life.
I make a mental note to come by and offer my condolences when he gets back, then I finish my transaction and head home to try to create an incredible birthday cake and look fabulous and stress-free in less than three hours.
Chapter Nine Lilith
Two months ago …
She wrapped the cloth around her face. Tied the corners tight around the back of her head.
Her body felt like the land as she walked out into the fields. Still not fully warm from winter.
Spring had come. There was no resisting any longer. She’d pushed back against the days and weeks for long enough. They kept coming, even when she tried to hold them back. They forced her out of the white-blanketed chill and out into new warmth that gradually melted away the gray sky.
The final snow came and went, and she waited.
The first bits of green emerged, fragile and vulnerable, and she waited.
The birds sang until the silence was gone, and she waited.
Now there was no more waiting. The ground is only patient for so long. The world presses on. Life continues. Always there as a reminder. Even when she felt she was standing still and everything around her would never end, she was reminded. The weather changed. The ground woke up. The sky lived and breathed and cried. Days went on.
And that day, the fields wouldn't wait anymore. With the warmer weather coming on fast, they shouldn't have waited as long as they did. But she didn't want to go out there. Not yet. Not ever. A little longer and it wouldn't be as hard. A little longer and there wouldn't be as much left. It would be easier then.
She hated it when they came in the winter. It meant spring would tell their secrets. And it was up to her to make sure they were kept.
Her skin shivered as she plunged her hands into the old leather work gloves. Taking hold of the worn and splintered handles, she pushed her wheelbarrow through doors once green and now flecked, out into the sun.
The fields stretched endless in front of her. This moment always felt impossible. Every year she stood at the edge of the fields and stared out over dirt that looked barren, dotted with old and shriveled remnants from the year before. It was as if the ground had given up the last of what it had and now lay dead, unable to produce what had once been expected of it.
And every year, she stood there, expecting more. She had to. There was no other choice. As impossible as it seemed, this was the task she had to complete. It took
