Claws & Crochet

Part 58

ZOEY

I press the OFF button, needing silence to deal with my realization.

The stereo sits quietly, and I stare back at it.

This was all that Minnie Gunner had for family in the last years of her life. No one visiting her. No one calling her.

She only had the voice of her daughter, broadcasted from miles away.

The pain of this knowledge makes my muscles cramp and my head ache. I curl up on the floor of the treehouse, folding under the weight of my sorrow and regret.

Whenever I thought of my grandmother in the past, I assumed she didn't want to know any of us. That she was fine on her own. That family didn't mean anything to her.

But I know different now. A woman who doesn't care does not keep recordings of her daughter's voice.

How many more tapes in that box are from a time after mom left? How many times did Minnie crawl up into this treehouse to listen to her estranged daughter's broadcasts?

"Oh god. I'm so sorry," I moan the words into my hands, feeling the tears coming, the sobs rising from deep in my chest.

What kept her away? But I think I know.

The river. I can imagine her drowning in it, just like I do. The darkness of the water a barrier between her and the person she loved most in the world.

What a horrible joke, for this woman to have been a stranger to me my whole life, and only through her death am I getting to know her. The items in her house reveal glimpses of a strong, capable woman, who stored away love for her family the same way she jarred preserves. With dedication, and so that only she knew what was contained within.

I'm not sure how long I let myself cry for her. It's more than the loss of a person that hurts me. It's the loss of the one person in my family who I see myself in.

Each piece of Minnie I discover holds a sense of familiarity, as if the same set of tools was used to create us both.

And I cry for the loss of love.

I could have loved her. I know it. If only I had gotten a chance to know her. If I had taken that chance.

But none of us took it.

Minnie didn't reach out to us, but we also didn't reach out to her.

Mom wasn't a gatekeeper. She never denied us access to our grandmother.

"Why didn't I know you?" I whisper to the boom box, as if it will transport my message to whatever plane of existence my grandmother floats in now. I've never been religious, but I can see the appeal. Wouldn't it be nice to know that I haven't lost my chance to know my grandma? To love her?

But all I have is this life, and Minnie is gone from it.

Loneliness creeps up on me like a jungle cat, slowly stalking me, then pouncing with a bone-crushing force that leaves me gasping on my breath. My fingers scramble for my pocket, rooting around until I find my phone.

I dial each one of their numbers in turn, starting with the oldest.

Abram. No answer.

Byron. No answer.

Carver. No answer.

Panic has started to set in, and my thumb feels heavy as I try Donovan.

On the second ring I finally connect.

"Zoey! Are you home?" My brother's question has me tearing up all over again, but I try not to let on how weepy I am when I respond.

"Not yet. Still in Pine Falls. Suddenly found myself missing Denver though, and thought I'd give you all a call. How's it been without me?"

"Hell. Seriously. Byron broke up with that girl he was seeing, the one who bartends at McConnell's. And now we're all scared to get a drink after our set."

I let out a watery chuckle at the thought of my four brothers, too awkward to ask for a beer because the bartender is glaring at them. They're a talented crew, all taking after our dad who works as a studio musician. The four of them have their own band, aptly called The Gunners. I refer to them as The Jonas Brothers, which annoys them to no end. So I never plan to stop.

"Tell Byron to stop dating people at our favorite spots." Byron is a serial monogamist. He gets invested super fast, grand gestures, romantic dates, weekend trips. Girls and guys all over Denver have fooled themselves into believing they're his forever. Unfortunately, the glitter of a new relationship wears off fast, and when Byron realizes they're not the one, he ends it.

I know for a fact that he's not trying to be insensitive. He really does want to find his forever person. I just don't think he knows what a forever person looks like.

"He never listens," Donovan groans. "We need you back to keep him in line. And to order our drinks for us."

"Good to know you miss your beer buffer," I joke.

"Come on. You know everyone falls to pieces without you." His words make my gut clench in a weird combination of happiness and misery. "Hold on a sec. I'll call them over."

"You're all together?"

"Yeah. Thursday is rugby night."

Of course. My brothers usually play a pick-up rugby game Thursday afternoon's. I glance at the time on my phone, realizing it's already after six.

Guess I cried for longer than I thought.

It's not long before a chorus of male voices spill through the speaker, all of them talking at once.

"When are you coming back?"

"What's Pine Falls like?"

"Why don't you call more?"

I let them shout out their questions, waiting for them to give me a moment to answer. When they finally quiet down, I take my turn at the conversation.

We spend the next few minutes catching up. Them telling me about all the shenanigans each other have gotten into. Me talking about some of my projects and assuring them that I'm not staying in Pine Falls forever.

Aware that I interrupted their game, I let them go, even though all four of them try to insist I stay on the line.

When the phone call ends, I find myself so exhausted, I struggle to sit up. The combination of crying and wrangling my brothers over the phone drained every bit of energy from me.

So I stay on the floor of the treehouse, staring up at the patchy shingled roof.

Despite their exhausting chatter, there was one underlying message I couldn't help but pick up through that call.

They love me.

I'm not forgotten out here in this cabin.

At least, not yet.