She flips through her phone and then hands it to me. He reminds me of Ryan Reynolds only with slightly graying hair at the temples. “Wow! He’s hot!”

Taking the phone back, she smiles at his picture, her cheeks turning pink, and that makes me feel so happy for her that she’s met someone who she’s obviously very interested in.

“Thanks. I like him a lot. He’s such a nice guy, too. I was hoping we could all have dinner while you’re here, so you could get to know him.”

“I’d love to.”

“I told him all about you, and he’s excited to meet you. He’s actually been to concerts for both of your parents’ bands so he was a little excited to hear that you’re their daughter. He’s not a crazy fan, though. So don’t worry. He won’t be hammering you with questions.”

Thankfully I’ve never been targeted by over-zealous fans of my parents’ bands. Years ago Sydni and Toren were at a bar with my parents, and a fan was obsessing over Sydni, trying to talk to her and take photos of her. Apparently he kept trying to touch her, and Tor went off on him and ended up beating the guy’s ass pretty bad, which is how he ended up in jail for assault. Even though the guy had been harassing Sydni, he hired a lawyer and filed charges, also trying to sue Sydni for emotional distress. People do the craziest things.

15

Kenzi

I thought of you today.

But then again, I think of you every day.

The only difference was today

I could think of you without pain.

Without crumbling.

Today, I thought of you, and I smiled.

And it was all worth it.

I’d do it again.

Every tear, every sleepless night, every day of missing you.

I would do it all again, just to have you.

I miss you. I want you. I love you.

I wish for you.

Kenzi

I love waking up at the Inn because the cool breeze blows through the bedroom windows, and I can see and hear the water if I sit up in bed. Watching the sun set and rise every day is a beautiful bonus.

My moment of tranquility on the tenth day of my visit quickly fades as my eyes lower from the view out my window to Snuggles in her cage. Usually, she sits atop her little wooden house, and also stares out the window or sleeps peacefully up there, enjoying the fresh air, her little bunny nose twitching.

But today, she’s laying on her side in the cage, up against her pile of hay. Throwing my quilt off, I race over to her cage and pull the little door open, reaching inside to stroke her.

“Snuggles?”

My tiny best friend is unmoving. Not breathing. Her little nose incredibly still.

She’s gone.

“No, no, no…” I whisper, gently stroking her ears. “Please wake up.”

Years and months of pent up anguish roll over me as I lean my forehead against the metal cage. The heartache that came from losing my mother, then my little cousin, the teasing at school, and the confusion with Tor rips through me as I stroke my bunny’s tiny lifeless body.

I want it all to stop. I want off this ride.

I didn’t realize I was screaming and going into hysterics until Aunt Katherine came rushing into the room and had to pull me away from the cage while Tina covered it with a sheet and they both sat with me on my bed, trying to calm me down. Katherine made me chamomile tea and rocked me like a baby while I cried over my little rabbit that lived so much longer than most do, but still wasn’t long enough. I feel safe having my aunt comfort me like my mother used to, so I let her, instead of fighting it like I normally would. If I close my eyes and listen to her voice, it’s almost like mom is here with me again, telling me everything is going to be okay, and she loves me with all the love in the world.

I cry until I have no more tears left, and then Katherine puts me on the phone with my father, who cries with me and offers to come be with me, but I tell him no. There’s no sense in disrupting his schedule and making him drive all the way out here, so I assure him I feel much better after having a good cry and I’m in good hands here at the Inn.

After Katherine leaves to prepare the mid-day snack for her guests, I fall asleep, exhausted from crying. I dreamt that Toren came to me, the faint scent of his earthy cologne enveloping me in its familiarity as he gently brushes my hair from my face and presses his lips to my cheek.

“I’m so sorry, Angelcake,” he whispers.

“Tor?” He’s here, sitting on the edge of my bed. Blinking, I expect him to vanish back into my dream, but he’s still here, big and incredibly masculine in this tiny room with its canopy bed and flowered curtains.