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    Us Unraveled
    Us Unraveled
    Us Unraveled
    Ebook101 pages55 minutes

    Us Unraveled

    By cookiejar

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Us Unraveled invites you into the lives of Avery and Oliver Fairchild, a couple whose journey through love and loss is heartwarming and heart-wrenching. Together, they face the ups and downs of marriage and raising their children, Odessa and William. Odessa's ethereal nature and William's search for belonging add unique layers to their family's story.

    Told through intimate vignettes, Us Unraveled captures the essence of family life—the joys of new beginnings, the pain of unexpected goodbyes, and the moments that define us. The story of Avery and Oliver is a reminder that even in the darkest times, there's hope for healing and the promise of a fresh start. Join the Fairchilds on their journey and find a piece of your own story within theirs.

    LanguageEnglish
    Publishercookiejar
    Release dateNov 6, 2024
    ISBN9798227021816
    Us Unraveled

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      Book preview

      Us Unraveled - cookiejar

      Part One

      Avery Hargreaves

      When Part-time Grows to Full

      Avery

      I hear the tic, tock, tic, clock metronome of time, slicing my lifeline like cutting nickels of carrots. The Initiative Finish-ative sign behind me mocks that this job was supposed to be part-time.

      I regret posting it.

      Jill knocks on my cubicle with the precision of a practiced ritual. Big plans after work? Said with cheer as empty as the day.

      I tell her that I’m headed into the wild.

      The wild, a weekend adventure?

      Adventure, sure. My lawn has gone to pasture. My mower’s up to the task, but I haven’t had a chance since part-time grew too full.

      Letting it grow brought fireflies and wildflowers. It also brought snakes with bellies swollen with vole. ( Both give me shivers. ) In the evening, peepers form a chorus around the pond.

      Dunno, Av, maybe it’s time to mow.

      I look at Jill. We share an awkward silence. She was listening, but I’m not sure she heard the big in my plans.

      Av, is everything is okay at home?

      Yes, okay. A wild kind of okay, so yes—and no, I will not mow after all. What is lawn but a carpet leading nowhere—or maybe everywhere—when I have nature putting on a show? I’ll sit with Marley, my Wonder Dog, and patronize the peepers. Together, we will appreciate when part-time grows to full.

      Sounds nice, Av, but what will the neighbours think?

      They’ll adjust and, besides, I have to go. He’s waiting.

      He? To be wild with you?

      That’s right. I nod and grab my coat.

      Avery, … is this ‘he’ someone special?

      Special is peepers, Jill. Special is my wonder dog. And tomorrow’s just another day in the cage.

      The office door pops shut, leaving Jill to imagine freedom. Outside, the stars shine like fireflies in the wild sky.

      Shades of Mushroom Grey

      Avery

      The creak of steps announces my entrance onto the porch of my dimly lit house. Marley, my loyal lab with eyes clouded by time, greets me with a growl of confusion before scent gains recognition. I see my faded presence in her fading vision, a ghost in my home.

      Am I the intruder here?

      My life has become a wheel, each turn blurring the line between who I am and what I do. My identity is my work.

      One day, my worlds will collide. I will wear pyjamas under the harsh office lights. A mistake, yes, but also a plea for a life that offers more than work shirts of mushroom hues and worn-out pyjamas. A plea for laughter, for leisure, for time.

      I long for an invitation to emerge from this cocoon I have woven from threads of responsibility. Yet, I might be the one withholding that invitation from myself.

      I wear a work shirt when I go out and, at home, slip on worn-out pyjamas. Nothing to wear if asked somewhere, not that I have time for such drama.

      My dog growls like I’m the intruder until I can safely unlock the side door. Her sight has lost the battle to scent, not that she sees me much anymore.

      I wonder which of my senses has fled and would have me likewise barking. Neighbours or customers, friendly or surly—I have no way of telling.

      A hamster running a relentless wheel, I don’t feel leisure time is even allowed. If—one day—I wear pyjamas to work, I may finally be invited out.

      Going Along, Not Getting Along

      Avery

      I stare into an empty teacup. Its porcelain edges reflect the ghost of a dream I once shared with a man no longer there. I replace the cup, loving the clack of porcelain, and return to the drone.

      A well-meaning neighbour playing matchmaker set me up on a blind date. I never asked for it, but how could it hurt to have a night out?

      The dinner is a stage for Michael’s unhealed wounds. He pines for his ex so loudly that her name replaces the restaurant’s background buzz. I sit, swallowed by his persistence in grafting memories of another onto their nascent narrative.

      Michael’s laugh holds echoes that are not meant for me. His eyes, when they meet mine, search for a phantom I could never be.

      I try to insert my story into the dialogue, but Michael’s premature schemes overwrite any efforts.

      How ’bout I fix the rail on your porch tomorrow? Or we go camping next week?

      These are plans that trespass beyond the boundaries of my cottage’s quaint porch. They’re that reek of desperation and an urgency that does not respect my pace.

      Michael is a conductor, and I

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