Bear No Malice | Paul Lahote

Fourteen

The mountains hadn't changed in my absence, and for that I was thankful. The house had accumulated a layer of dust, but I easily cleaned it up before Kara set foot inside. My grandparents kept her occupied in their own home, giving me a few moments to myself to adjust to the wave of emotions hitting me as I looked around my now silent home.

Photographs of our wedding and various adventures we shared stood on wooden shelves, all of which I gathered and shoved into a box. Those and all of Rhett's belongings hid deep inside the closet save for a few shirts and flannels I kept for myself. It wasn't healthy to just hide away the reminders but I wasn't ready to face it yet. A part of me was still waiting for him to walk through the door, a rifle slung over his shoulder and a rabbit in his hand, ready to skin for dinner. I wasn't the biggest fan of his hunting habits but he loved it, so I didn't protest. He loved being able to provide food that we didn't have to go out and buy every week.

As I made my way across the flat property towards grandma's house, I walked next to the small creek that ran parallel to the property. I'd take short walks like this every evening when we lived here, the sound of the water running over the stones soothing for me. Now all it did was make my chest constrict with emotions I was trying so hard to bury.

I could almost smell him in the air surrounding me. I could feel him walking next to me, just perfectly out of step with me as leaves crunched beneath our feet. My fists clenched in my jacket pockets and I bit back my tears once more.

"Emma! Sweetie we're gonna start dinner if you're ready to come in!" My eyes followed the small wooden ramp attached to the house to see grandma waving at me. I waved back in acknowledgement and waited for her to walk back around to the covered front porch before I let my eyes wander across the water, scanning the trees carefully.

The forests here looked nothing like the ones on La Push, something that gave me relief and simultaneous disappointment. A part of me missed the reservation, but this truly was home for me. I'd spent my life with Rhett here, on this small stretch of land stuck between two soaring peaks. I knew every stone on the land, where the bear den was up the mountain behind the house, and where Rhett and I were married. In fact, the trellis we wed underneath stood on the edge of the property, overgrown with flowers I'd planted around it so long ago, the roses no longer budding but the vines still holding strong.

Despite all of this, and knowing that Rhett was now home, buried in his family's cemetery, a part of me longer for the west coast house we'd lived in. Or rather the people that surrounded it.

With a mind messier than it was before I'd started, I steeled myself and made my way up the ramp and into the house. The heavy wooden door stuck in the frame as I heaved it open, the smell of chicken and garlic hitting me as I stepped in. The interior hadn't changed all that much since my last visit. His grandparents still kept the front half open with only a couple of tables and sitting chairs to look out the massive window panes. Where the old sewing machine sat there was an open wall of various knick-knacks that Grandma had collected over the years, mostly the snowmen she'd grown to love collecting. In the living room were two sofas occupying one side while two more recliner chairs sat, all angled to face the television. Three bedrooms occupied the remaining space down the back hallway and to the left of the living room, with a small bathroom in the back. It all seemed so small now compared to our other homes, but I'd never felt more at home than when I stood here.

"There's my favorite girl!" I turned towards the kitchen entrance where grandpa slowly made his way out. I was taller than him now that he bent over slightly but he held more charisma at his eighty years than I had in my whole life. Behind his thick bifocals I could still see the twinkle in his eyes as he pulled me in for a tight embrace.