Autumn

Chapter 8: I Should Tell You What Happened To Her...

Christ, I'm such an asshole. Why did I yell at her like that?!?

I'm in the kitchen and it has been more than half and hour since I left her outside; more than enough time for me to nearly have breakfast ready.

She hadn't come back in yet. Should I be worried now?

"No shit, Sherlock. She's probably ran off in the swamp somewhere. Who will you have breakfast with now, a-hole?" my subconscious screamed at me.

Crap!!

   Retrieving my scattered wits, I dropped the bowl with what little remained of the pancake batter and rushed over to the back door. Autumn is climbing the porch steps just as I am opening the door. The look on her face is solemn and contrite and instantly the pang of regret I feel becomes more painful. I should never have said any of that to her. I was just so angry and I couldn't control myself. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her. So I try to apologize. "Autum, I'm.."

  She holds up a hand to stop me and crosses the threshold into the house. I close the door behind her and when I turn back to her, she snakes her arms around my neck; reaching up on tiptoe to bring me in for a hug. I hold her close, wrapping my arms around her small waist. The warmth from her skin soothes me and I sigh in contentment, resting my head in the crevice of her neck. Her hair smells heavenly, like fresh lavender mixed in with the natural scent of jasmine and oranges that seems to cling to her alabaster skin.

"I'm so sorry Autumn," I murmur into her hair. "I should never have screamed at you like that. You're right, its not in my place to judge you."

  Autumn steps back to look up at me, uncoiling her arms from around my neck but I don't let go of her; I don't want to let go yet. Her eyes are wide and full of sadness as she stares up at me. Running her fingers through my hair she whispers, "Don't apologize. You were right. I am being a little ungrateful; sometimes I just don't think they pay attention to me. I'm sorry for all the things I said about you. I had no idea you lost your mother. What happened to her?"

"She was very sick," I murmur, not wanting to delve into this topic. "She passed away almost 3 years ago." I let her go and look away from the pity that I know is evident on her face. For nearly a year after mom died, people have given me nothing but their pity. Hell, even now I still see that look on people's faces. I don't want anyone else's pity; especially not hers.

"Let me get you something to eat."

"Okay," she acquiesces. "Where do you want me to sit?"

"At the breakfast bar- pull up a stool. I made pancakes and bacon, I hope that's alright with you." Depositing the pancakes that were done from the griddle and onto a plate, I turn off the stove.

"That's fine. I smelt it from the yard; its partly the reason I came back inside. "

I busy myself with preparing a plate for her, head to the cupboard for some glasses and to the fridge for some orange juice.

She begins to eat as soon as I place the food in front of her.

" Mhmmm," she groans and I take my plate and pull up a stool beside her. "This is amazing Jessie. Your mother must have loved your cooking."

I gulp and the memories come crashing in my mind like a tidal wave.  No, no, no. She can't do this to me. I can't do this...

"Autumn..please.." I sighed, with my head in my hands. The world around me began to spin rapidly and I began to lose focus; in that moment I felt exactly the way I felt when we first got the diagnosis. My world has been turned on its head since then and I haven't been able to right myself.