27

MICHAEL

I sit silent and still in my chair as Walter talks about Thanksgiving, which is coming up, and how to healthily cope during the holiday: take breaks from overwhelming situations, like big family dinners, acknowledge your emotions and moments of grief, process the memories that are bound to be brought up, and ask family to lend patience to you as you grieve and return the same to them.

I nod at the right moments, and speak during none of it, like always. It's just good to be here.

Jared, who's been coming here for three years and rarely speaks, talks more about his older brother. The hunting rifle. The blood. The pain. The betrayal. The guilt.

Mrs. Rossi mentions her husband who died by medically assisted suicide after a long fight with ALS. She says Christmas is hardest for her because it was his favourite. I hold her hand through it tonight because Christmas was mom's favourite too.

Walter concludes with the same words he uses to open every Friday night.

"If you've lost a loved one to suicide, you are not alone. If you have thought about suicide, you are not alone. If you have attempted suicide, you are not alone." He looks around, meeting everyone's eyes. "You are never alone."

We all stand, give our thanks, and gather our things. I pull Jared aside and tell him a bit about my own experience. He cries and pulls me in for a hug which I return. He says thank you. I say nothing.

Mrs. Rossi follows Robby out of the room, throwing goodbyes over her shoulders, and then everyone follows after her.

I walk over to help Walter pack up, but he stops me.

"Someone was looking for you," he says. "She was here before. Once."

My brows come together. "Was is Lara?"

Walter shakes his head, packing up a few papers behind the podium. "She had the eyes," he says. "One was dark and one--"

I let out a small laugh. "Are you telling me Ember actually came back?" I shake my head. No way did I think she'd take my advice.

"Ah, yes," hums Walter. "Ember. She brought food and apologies," he laughs, "for when she knocked me down."

I nod a few times. "Did she happen to steal all the lollipops?"

Walter straightens up, eyes wide. He shuffles around looking for them and comes up empty. "Well I'll be damned! Maybe she did!"

"Why was she looking for me?" I ask, collecting some of the big stand-up signs.

"She didn't say," Walter hums. "But she's a strong one. Very tall. Carried this ole thing up three flights of stairs for me." He taps the podium.

I tilt my head. "Really?"

"Really, really. And a good baker, too. Those things were delicious!" Walter smacks his old wrinkly lips a few times appreciatively. "There might be one or two left over there if you're interested."

I follow Walter's hand to the corner of the room. There's a small chair and an empty baking tray I didn't notice when I first came in. I walk over and frown at the thing. None left.

I reach for the tray and something catches my eye under the chair. It's a note discarded on the floor, half torn from shoe prints with mud leaking through the paper. I reach down and pick it up, smoothing it on the metal baking tray.

SKOLEBRØD

—A CLASSIC NORWEGIAN DESSERT BREAD—

INGREDIENTS: MILK BUTTER YEAST SUGAR CARDAMON FLOUR EGG COCONUT VANILLA

I guarantee these are better than suckers.

Enjoy.

-gg

"G," I mumble. "G...G... Why—"

Walter appears behind me and I flinch, spinning around. I clear my throat and look down at the short man.

"Why'd she leave?" I ask him.

He shrugs. "You weren't here."

I shake my head. "What she angry? Sad?"

He tilts his head back and forth. "I'd say more along the lines of heavily irritated. And resigned. Strong, though. Very strong."

I chuckle at Walter and pocket the note. "Okay, let's get all this packed up, yeah?" He nods and heads back to the front.

The initials on the note aren't her initials, so why'd she write gg?

I leave it for now and help Mr. Li pack everything into his van downstairs. It's almost dark now so I guide him around on account of his cataracts.

As Walter finds his driving glasses, he folds himself into the van.

"You going to be alright getting home?" I ask through the open window.

He waves me off with a smile. "You ask me that every week, son. I'm old, not dead."

I grin and nod. "And getting old beats—"

"The alternative," he finishes. "You remember that."

"Will do, Mr. Li. I'll see you next week." I turn to find make my way back across campus, a baking tray under my arm, but Walter calls my name. I turn back to his van to see him leaning out the window.

"How about you and Candice?" he asks. "How is she?"

"We broke up a few months ago, remember?" I frown at him, knowing we've had this conversation before.

"Oh," he says. "Why's that?"

I shrug. "Just wasn't right. Mutual decision."

"You should meet my little Angelica," he says, talking of his granddaughter who just finished her first year of university in British Columbia. "You're a fine young man, better than those things she brings home from the coast." His face scrunches up thinking of all the boyfriends his granddaughters forced him to meet. "I hate them all. They don't deserve her."

"No one does, right?" I say, lips lifting up. 

He squints at me. "Yes. That's right. But you come the closest."

I laugh, twirling the tray in my hands. "Thanks, Mr. Li, but I'm not looking to date right now. I have a lot on my plate with work and school and—"

"See?" he says. "Good boy. You're a good one, Michael."

"Only thanks to you, Mr. Li," I tell him honestly. "You have a good night, okay?"

He nods and waves me away, flipping the ignition on his rusty old van.

I opt to walk across campus, gives me a moment to think. By the time I reach my SUV, I've exhausted every gg possibility in my head. I like to think I'm smart. I'm certainly not a genius and I'm horrible at mathematical thinking, but I feel like I should be able to figure this out.

When I'm back inside Loch Nes, I set the baking tray on my passenger's seat. Then I pull out the note from my slacks pocket. 

-gg

It comes to me only as shadows of birds fly above in the dark outside the car. She signed the note knowing I'd see it, maybe hoping I would. No one else would understand what gg meant.

Ghost Girl. 

She was there tonight, but like a ghost, she disappeared. 

Ember has been nothing but a distraction for me, so I decided to stop. Stop trying, that is. I had told myself she wasn't worth the effort.

But now this. Norwegian desserts to HH. That can't be a coincidence and I'm curious as to how she found out I'm from Norway. Do I look that Scandinavian? Maybe.

I might have made a mistake with her. 

I really wish I hadn't been late tonight. I mean, I didn't even get a chance to try the skolebrød. I'm going to have to rectify that. 

Resting in the passenger's seat is my reason to see her again.

A/N

VoTe vOte voTE!

Thanks for reading ❤️ You all mean so much to me in this amazing community. 

*hugs*

I have big, big plans for these characters. Hang tight.

All the best,

Laurel