What She Found - Emerald O'Brien
Chapter One
“Bonnie is dead,” Cassy says, wind whipping through her curly blonde ringlets. She leans her hip against the railing of the creaky wooden front porch. “But her spirit lives on with us!”
She raises her wine glass, the red remnants from our long chat swirling at the bottom.
Liz raises her glass, and it’s full. She hasn’t taken a sip since we’ve been out here, Arland’s insensitive quip still likely on her mind. “To Bonnie.” She pushes her hair from her short, shiny bob out of her face and glances from Cassy to me. “May she rest in peace, and may we continue to be grateful for the gift she gave us before she passed.”
I push my thin, brown hair from my face and swallow hard. It’s never gotten easier to talk about Bonnie. Even mentioning her brings a lump to my throat.
“We should do this before it gets too bad out here,” Cassy says, her words lost in the wind.
Squinting out into the dark fields and forest surrounding our rental in the countryside, I try to feel your presence, Bonnie. Through the damp, cold winds, I ache to feel your warm hand on mine. To feel your presence standing with us just one more time.
But that’s a lie.
Once will never be enough.
“Tabbie?” Liz asks in a meek tone. Her eyes, long lashes, glossy with tears, stare into mine, and I swallow back the lump in my throat, struggling for breath against the grief and whistling winds.
Cassy rests her warm hand on my back, and Liz grabs my free hand as I raise my glass.
“To Bonnie,” I choke out.
It’s the best I can do. I’ve been trying my best to be here, present, with my dear friends, but with everything that’s happened to me—the people I’ve lost—it’s hard to escape my own thoughts.
We tap our glasses together as a banging comes from the door beside us, making us jump. Wine from Liz’s glass splatters against the porch, staining the wood a bright red.
Connor presses the side of his freckled face against the window. “Game’s about to start. You ladies in?”
I’m lost, alone amongst my closest friends.
They insisted I come on this trip—that I shouldn’t be alone—but fail to understand that loneliness can settle into every cell of one’s being despite surroundings or company.
Once four couples, our group now has only two. Liz and Arland. Cassy and Matt.
Connor and I are singles again, and his friend Wesley is the first outsider we’ve invited on one of our traditional getaways. Connor’s freckled arm brushes up against mine as he leans toward me once more, dealing out the cards. I never sit beside Connor. Derek always grabbed the spot beside the man he said made him laugh the hardest, and I’d always take his other side.
It’s a reminder Derek isn’t here—everything is.
A card from the new deck slides across the hand-crafted wooden table and off the edge. It matches the rest of the homemade furniture in the vacation house Liz and Arland rented this summer.
“Hey, buddy,” Matt chuckles from his seat across the table, bending at the side to pick up the card and waving it in front of Connor’s face. “You new to shuffling?” His round features and tight-lipped grin stand out against the harsh overhead lamp as light rain patters against the windows behind me.
A few of them chuckle as Cassy leans in toward Matt, her partner since high school. That was before any of us knew her. She whispers something in his ear, her curly blonde natural ringlets covering half his face, and his smile fades. He pulls away, leaning across the table and handing the card back to Connor. He holds on to the card as Connor tries to pull it away.
“One more of those,” Arland says, his deep voice filling the large kitchen, “and you’ll lose your dealing privileges.” He tucks one hand in his jean pocket and scans the table, towering over all of us at six-foot-four, before returning to the counter.
“Yeah, yeah.” Connor smirks and swipes the card away from Matt, adding it back to the pile and shuffling. Instead of dealing, he scratches his fingers through his red hair and leans in toward me. “So, Tabbie? Wes said he’ll bring your boxes of wine to the car for ya before we leave tomorrow, ‘kay?”
His friend Wesley gives me a small smile from Connor’s other side but avoids eye contact after that. My cheeks are hot, and now I’m sure they’re turning red. Great.
Does Connor think I don’t