Daniel empowered me instead of stripping me. Lifted me up instead of keeping me low.
Daniel gave me everything he knew. He kept nothing for himself, the way Neil always did. Daniel gave his knowledge freely and happily, even though it lessened any advantage he might have had over me—and in doing it he weakened the last bit of hold Neil had, even if all Daniel did was show me I was capable of anything I needed to do.
It was Tuesday, and I was at home. I usually worked days, but I’d covered a shift for Bri last night and I didn’t get in until midnight. I didn’t want to get to Wakan at two a.m. so I decided to sleep here and drive over in the morning.
I loved being at Grant House.
It was warm and lived in. It felt almost alive somehow. Every single thing in those walls had a story. It was color and depth and crackling fireplaces and quiet nooks. A creaking step that felt like a gentle sigh under my feet. Ancient ferns and hand-wrought crown molding, the hundreds of delicate stained-glass butterflies on the window on the landing, black-and-white pictures of strangers that felt familiar now.
My blood pressure was lower in Wakan. It was like a finger pressed to my lips with a long shhhhhhh. And Daniel was a gentle hammock, rocking. Everything about them was centering and calm.
And I’d fallen in love with them both.
I wish I’d never met him.
Letting Daniel go was going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever done.
I felt like I was swimming out to sea with him, getting farther and farther from shore, and I’d saved no energy for the swim back.
I’d made an Olympic sport out of avoiding Neil. It was almost possible to pretend he didn’t live in my house. The only reminder I got was my dad occasionally showing up unannounced—not to see me, of course. To have drinks with my ex. To golf with my ex. To go on boat cruises with my ex. I was invited—as long as I was okay hanging out with Neil.
I wasn’t.
I made excuses and Neil didn’t push it, so my dad didn’t care that I didn’t go. Other than that, Dad had been quite pleasant the last few months. With me vying for chief and him thinking Neil and I were in counseling, I was his little princess again. Mom looked like a thousand-pound weight had been lifted off her chest, probably because Dad was back to being the better version of himself.
It was amazing how lovable and agreeable he could be when you were doing what he wanted.
What I wanted was to be in Wakan.
The only time I’d spent in Minneapolis these last few months outside of work was the once-a-week coaching session I had with Mom to practice my speech for the quasquicentennial. She’d written it. Not a word of it was mine—which was fine, since I had no idea what I’d even say if it was.
I’d completely stopped going to therapy, just to give the hour to Daniel instead. I didn’t have enough of them to spare. I used up most of my vacation time to give me extra days with him. I even stayed for a ten-day stretch back in July. Didn’t go home once. Told my parents I was on a yoga retreat.
If Wakan had been closer, I’d have gone there just to spend the night. I’d have gone there on my lunch break. But one thing I’d discovered over the last few months was that the second the tourists came back, the traffic started. Road work, a fender bender—any little thing backed up the roads. One day it had taken me four hours to get to Daniel’s.
It was like the universe just wanted to reiterate how unsustainable all of this was.
But still, I made the trip as often as I could. And the town didn’t seem to mind, because Daniel’s garage had turned into a minute clinic over the last twelve weeks.
Ear infections, bladder infections, poison ivy, sprained ankles, burns. If I had what I needed to treat them, I did. So far, I’d only had to send one person to Rochester. And I’d been showing Doug how to do things. He was going to treat them anyway. At least if I gave him some instruction, the outcome would be better. He was a very good student. And counterintuitive to the rest of what I knew about Doug, his bedside manner was remarkably good. I’d actually suggested he go into nursing last week.
Anyway, it was good someone would be there to pick up the torch once I was gone. Because in a few days, I would be gone. The board was voting on the chief position tomorrow, and after that, my training would begin. Then a few weeks after that, I had the court date for the final determination on who got the house.
And I’d have to break up with Daniel.
I was doing my best not to think about it and failing miserably. The vote would be the beginning of the end. The first domino to fall.