Snowflakes In Autumn (A Novella)

Five

With Noah busy in the kitchen, Faith took her time wandering around the house. His bedroom was about twice the size of the guest room, but with the bookshelves covering the walls, it didn't appear much larger. She noticed these books, unlike the ones in the living room, were novels, but her eyes paused when she saw an entire row of the same book repeatedly.

Noticing the name on the spine, Faith slid the book out and read the description on the back, then walked out of the room toward the kitchen. "Do you write crime novels?"

Noah's eyes shot over to her. "Snoop much?"

Faith crossed her arms in front of her chest. "You're the one who wanted me to move in with you an hour ago," she defended. It wasn't her actual reason for snooping, however, and Faith shook her head with guilt over her approach. "You knew me for seven years, Noah, but I only have small fragments of knowing you. I flew halfway across the country and I'm staying in the house of a virtual stranger."

His hands came up to rub at his temples, then he turned around to face her. "Yes, I write crime novels. I started doing it as a sort of therapy after I got clean. In the books, I was the detective who caught the bad guy before he could kill anyone I loved. I have pieces of that day scattered into everyone of those books, hoping it would help me move on. I gave my first one to a friend who freelances editing, and he gave it to a publisher he knew."

"Am I in any of them?" Faith asked as she stepped closer.

"You're in all of them."

All of them. She was in books that were out there in the world and never knew.

"Can I read them?"

His expression softened, a flicker of a smile gracing his lips. "You can."

There were fewer things more personal than that, and Faith appreciated he was so willing to open up to her.

"Your sister and father are in them too," Noah explained further. "I don't use anyone's names, but the personalities are there, and some memories. It would be a way for you to get to know them."

Faith lifted herself onto the counter beside him. "Not my brother or mom, though?"

"No," Noah admitted before returning to the task at hand of preparing dinner. "I was never that close to your brother, and your mom wasn't someone I wanted to waste my time adding in. In the books, your dad is a single father who helps the detective on cases."

That he'd phrased it that way when talking about her mother opened a whole new window. Not that she blamed anyone for feeling that way about her mom, but Faith had always just assumed that before the accident, everyone was happy and loving. "Why do you hate my mom?"

Noah placed the knife back down on the cutting board, let out a heavy breath, then took two steps over until he was standing directly in front of her. "The past isn't just about your lost memories, but things you never knew about to begin with. Some of it will hurt, little snowflake."

Every time he called her that, something tugged at her heart, but the rest of what he said caused the organ to wilt. She kept eye contact with Noah until he relented.

"Your mom never deserved your father. She was always controlling and picked fights constantly. Not just with him, but with all of you. Your father had an emotional affair with another professor at the college. I don't think anything sexual ever came of it, but being around her made him happier than I think I'd ever seen him.

"When your mom found out he'd been spending time with another woman, she went crazy. She started dressing more like a teenager than a woman in her forties. Went out with friends and partied all night.

"One night she showed up at my place and tried to seduce me. I turned her down, and she told your dad I was the one who attempted to seduce her. He didn't believe it, but not for a lack of trying on her end. Eventually, he asked for a divorce, and shit got messy. He moved into an apartment, and I moved out of the guest house into a place about a mile away. 

"You were running away pretty much every other night and coming to me since I was closer. Sometimes she'd let you stay the night, and sometimes she'd show up and drag you back home, take you to the bar with her or some shit and leave you sitting in the car while she got drunk. Only found out about that shit after she got arrested one night and your dad had to pick you up at the police station. Your sister was living in a dorm by then, and your brother just stayed with friends. Your dad was trying to get full custody of you and your brother when it happened."

Faith remained quiet, taking it all in little by little. While she didn't know any of this about her mother, it didn't surprise her.

"Tell me what you're thinking," Noah whispered.

She shook her head, unsure of what she was thinking. Too many thoughts jumbled together. Then one stood out above the rest and passed through her lips. "Did my mom ever love me?" When she looked up at Noah and he said nothing, Faith spoke again. "I've never felt like my mom ever really loved me. I thought it was because I reminded her so much of the daughter she lost, but if she was this cold before the accident..."

Noah tucked a loose strand of hair behind Faith's ear. "I can't answer that, little snowflake. I can tell you that when you were little, you'd light up every room you walked into. You've always had this spark that drew people in. I know she was jealous of that. Your mom loved attention and the older you got, the more jealous she became. I can also tell you that if you remind her of your sister, she's grasping at straws. You two were always very different people."

That told her everything she needed to know. Her lack of feeling loved had nothing to do with Hope and everything to do with her. What it didn't tell her, however, was why her mother was still like this. If she had a light before, it dimmed or completely shut off. No one was drawn in by her that Faith was aware of.

Maybe she was just ensuring the light would remain invisible.

"I don't have that light anymore," Faith muttered.

"It's still there, little snowflake. You just can't see it."

Faith looked up at his words and searched for the truth in his eyes. They way he looked back at her, so full of a love she couldn't remember and full of her namesake. Maybe he was telling the truth. His truth, at least.