SWNOVELS Chapter Rewrite Our Story: Prologue
Her frail hand is cold and shaky as she moves blonde ringlets from my forehead. She looks so tired as she glances down at me sadly. “Momma’s gonna leave tonight, honey,” she tells me, her voice not quite sounding the way I know it should.
“Where are you going, Momma?” I ask, nuzzling deeper into her chest. I’m as gentle as possible, careful not to hurt her. Daddy’s always reminding me that Momma is fragile now. I have to watch my movements around her so I don’t make her feel any pain.
Momma sighs. It’s long and drawn out. One of those big sighs I only ever hear from grown-ups. Suddenly, her body begins to shake underneath mine. I look up to see her eyes full of tears.
“Don’t cry, Momma,” I beg, carefully pushing off the bed to wipe away her tears. “I’ll go with you so you don’t have to go alone.”
Her eyes close as water streams down her pale cheeks. I miss the color they used to be before she got sick—tan with a tinge of pink from the sun from when she’d forget to wear a hat while we rode down the trails on our horses.
“I’m afraid where I’m going I have to go alone, Marigold,” she answers sadly.
Tears form in my eyes, even though I try to fight them. Daddy always tells me Momma doesn’t like to see me cry. I try to make them stop, but Momma’s tears increase, and it’s no use controlling mine either.
“I don’t want you to go anywhere I can’t go,” I beg.
Her frail fingers work through my hair. “With everything in me, I wish I didn’t have to go. But sometimes we aren’t the ones to make these choices. You understand me?”
I nod my head even though I don’t understand at all. Both Momma and Daddy have been telling me that she would be leaving soon, and I won’t be able to see her again, but it doesn’t make sense to me. It goes over my head, even though I’m trying hard to understand their words.
Why does Momma have to go somewhere I can’t go?
“You might not see me anymore, my dear Marigold, but I know—I swear—you’ll still feel me.” I look up at Momma through blurry, tear-filled eyes.
“How?”
She places her cold palm against my chest, right above the princess on my nightgown. “You’ll feel me right here. Forever. Until we’re together again.”
I sniffle. “I’ll see you again?”
Momma pulls me into her, burying her face into my hair as I hide mine against her bony chest. “You’ll see me again. When it’s time, I’ll meet you in a field of marigolds. Just like the one you were named after.”
I’m trying to be strong for Momma, but I can’t keep it up any longer. I sob; the thought just now occurring to me that I may never see my momma again. Not for a long, long time.
“I’ll be waiting for you, my soft, sweet, Marigold. But I don’t want to see you there for a while. You hear me? You live your life, honey. Take your time meeting me there.”
“Don’t go, Momma,” I plead, clutching her nightgown.
She wipes my tears away, her eyes moving over my face. “I’ll always be with you. This is not a goodbye. Not truly. Anytime you need me, I’ll be here.”
“How will I know?”
She purses her lips and takes a deep breath, her eyes closing for a moment before she opens them again.
She looks so tired.
“I’ll make sure you know.”
I nod because I don’t know what else to do. I hug my momma tight until Daddy comes in and tells me it’s time to go to bed. I don’t tell him that Momma told me she was leaving. I know my momma. She’ll want to be the one to tell him herself.
So I cling to her for a few more seconds, squeezing her tight, even knowing I was supposed to be gentle with her.
And then I leave, trying to hide the tears as Daddy helps me get ready for bed.
I knew I wouldn’t sleep at all. I won’t be able to sleep knowing Momma might not be here in the morning.
I don’t know how long I’ve been staring at the snowflakes falling from the sky when I hear Daddy’s first cry. I shake my head, trying to get the sound to go away. With each added snowflake on the ground, Daddy’s cries get louder. They turn into something more, too. Almost like a screaming-cry. They get so loud that I hold my hands over my ears because I know what’s happened.
Momma had been right. She left. She’d gone somewhere Daddy and I can’t follow.
My feet take off on their own. One moment I was sitting on the little seat in front of my window that overlooked the trees and the stables, the next I’m running through the snow in a pair of socks and my nightgown, my eyes set on the large home at the top of the hill.
I’m careful as I sneak through the backdoor, knowing the Jennings family never locks it. They don’t have to. There isn’t anyone around for miles.
There’s an ache in my chest as I tip-toe down the familiar hallway, being extra careful to avoid the old floorboards that creak underneath the lightest of pressure. The moon shining through the expansive windows at the front of the house is the only thing guiding my way. I’m careful to not make any noise as I come to a stop in front of a cherry-wood door. Posters of football players and rodeo stars are messily taped to it in a way that makes the wood almost invisible underneath it all.
My shoulders shake violently as I try to take a calming breath. It’s something momma taught me to do. In through the nose, out through the mouth. I repeat the motion a few times before my small, shaking hand reaches up to grasp the doorknob. It’s cold against the inside of my palm, causing the hairs on my arm to raise. I pause, waiting to turn it as I peek down at my clothes.
Momma would be horrified if she knew I was running around in my nightgown with a cold bite in the air.
Too bad Momma isn’t here anymore.
I stare at the door, my mind racing with how much things are going to change with Momma gone. Deep down, I know I should turn in the hallway and slip into the room where my best friend sleeps. Pippa could sleep through anything. She probably wouldn’t even wake up if I crawled into bed with her. I could pretend, just for a little while longer, that Momma hasn’t left us.
It wasn’t Pippa I wanted—or needed. At the same time, I knew it was wrong to open his door and slip inside his room. With a sad sigh, I turn, my wet socks making a quiet slapping sound on the hardwood as I take a few steps toward Pippa’s door.
“Goldie?” a familiar voice calls out from behind me.
I freeze, knowing I’ve been caught. Slowly, I turn to face the voice behind me.
Cade Jennings.
My best friend’s big brother. The boy I’ve had a crush on for as long as I can remember.
His eyes widen when he takes me in. His pajamas have superheroes all over them. I remember Pippa making fun of them at breakfast a couple of weeks ago.
I thought you weren’t supposed to like superheroes anymore now that you’re a teenager?
Cade hadn’t batted an eye when he looked down at the heroes. He didn’t care what she thought.
He gently tugs on my arm, pulling me into his room and shutting the door behind him.
“How’d you know I was out here?” I’d asked, trying to wipe away the tears on my cheeks.
Cade doesn’t answer me at first. He pulls me toward his bed and softly pushes me down to sit. “Cade?” I repeated, for some reason focusing on how he knew I was out there.
Bending down, he pulls the wet socks off my feet. He throws them toward his laundry basket that has clothes spilling from it in every direction. Immediately, he walks to his dresser and pulls out a pair of wool socks. They’re too big for my feet but he slides them on anyway. I don’t care about the size. They’re comfy. They’re his.
He looks at me with something I don’t quite understand filling his eyes, and his hands rest on his hips in a serious position. I think he might’ve learned it from his mom. It’s something she does all the time.
“I don’t know, Goldie,” he whispers. “I woke up and just felt like you were there. That you needed me. And then—”
“Then?” I whisper, clinging to every single one of his words. Maybe if I focus hard enough on him, I won’t remember the sound of Daddy’s cries echoing throughout the small cabin.
“Then you were there.” He pauses, taking in my appearance. “Why are you wet?” he asks before noticing the tears coating my cheeks. “And why are you crying?”
He throws a blanket over my shoulders and pulls me into his scrawny body.
His question opens my heart. All of my feelings come pouring out, and I start crying right there on the edge of Cade’s bed.
“Oh shit,” Cade mumbles into my hair as he awkwardly wraps me in a hug.
“That’s a bad word.” My voice shakes as I struggle to get the words out between my sobs.
Cade pulls his blue comforter around us. Without words, he nudges me up the bed. “Not sure what you expect from me when you’re crying like this, Goldie. Pops always says we can use bad words if the timing is right.”
I let him help me get comfortable under the sheets. There’s a warm spot where his body must’ve been before I interrupted his sleep. Cade scoots closer to me. Carefully, he pushes a stray, wet piece of hair from my face. It reminds me of the gesture my momma just did a few hours ago. Hours before I lost her forever.
At least until we meet again like she promised.
In a field of marigolds.
His copper eyes take in my face. “I don’t like seeing you cry, Goldie.”
Cade Jennings is never soft. Even at thirteen, he’s rough around the edges. Our mommas always joked about how wild and untamed he was. Like the mustangs us kids love to observe from afar. I’ve never quite seen Cade’s eyes go soft the way they are right now.
Time seems to stop as he reaches over and wipes the tears off my cheeks. He looks at the water that’s now on the tip of his thumb. “What do you need?” he whispers into the dark. “How can I take away the pain?”
“Momma,” I croak, closing my eyes, hoping maybe if I squeeze them tight enough the world will disappear and I’ll never have to remember the way Daddy sounded when his heart broke—how he sounded when my momma left us. “She’s gone.”
His arms wrap around me and pull me into his chest before I can get any other words out. In the next breath he’s dragging his soft comforter over our heads, blocking the rest of the world out.
I don’t know how long he holds me as I cry. The thing I’ve always liked about Cade is that he doesn’t feel the need to fill the silence. He’s so much quieter than I am. He prefers to observe rather than to interject. Right now, I’m grateful. I’m glad he doesn’t try to fill the room with words that don’t mean a thing in these circumstances.
“I’m sorry if I woke you up.” I sniffle against his chest, wishing we could stay underneath the protection of his comforter for forever.
“Wake me up anytime you need.”
I look at him through blurry eyes. I must look like a mess, but Cade doesn’t seem to care. “You mean that?”
He nods. His mouth opens like he wants to say something, but he must think better of it because he quickly closes it. It seems like forever until he finally opens his mouth to talk again. “I mean it, Goldie.”
Cade Jennings did mean it. He was there for me night after night. When I was a sad child mourning the loss of her mother—her world—he was the one to help me through it. He never asked questions when I’d show up at his door throughout the years. He always had some sort of sixth sense, always somehow knowing when I needed him. He’d open the door to find me standing there, needing him for one reason or another. I knew Cade would always be in there in the dark confines of the four walls of his bedroom.
Cade Jennings was always there for me when I needed him—until he wasn’t.