Chapter Thirty-Seven Ozzy
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Ozzy
“I’m an asshole,” I say to Diego while we sit in lawn chairs, drinking beer and watching Kai and Lola ride scooters up and down the sidewalk.
It’s been five days since Maren came out of her coma.
“You’re human,” he says.
“Humans are assholes.”
Diego chuckles. “Undoubtedly.”
“Tia thinks I need therapy, which is odd coming from her because she’s not a fan of it. So I must be really messed up for her to suggest it.”
“Let me save you some money,” he says. “How did you feel when Maren called you?”
I laugh, shaking my head. “We’re not doing this.”
“Come on, humor me.”
I roll the bottom of the beer bottle on my leg, eyeing Kai’s black hair, blowing like ribbons in the air, just like Lola’s. “I couldn’t breathe.”
“Why?”
I shake my head. Diego is not a therapist. This is stupid. Yet I keep answering him. “Because I felt guilty for putting Lola in a position to get hurt like that again. And I swore I would never do it again once we let Maren go because she wasn’t going to wake up. She’d lost so much blood. They restarted her heart multiple times. She was in a coma for three weeks. We were going to say our goodbyes. End of story.”
“But she didn’t die,” Diego says.
I nod slowly.
“Are you upset that she didn’t die?” he asks in an incredulous tone.
“Of course not,” I mumble. “But how can I risk Lola going through this again?”
“So what are you going to do? Dump her when she gets home? Now that would make you an asshole.”
“Or a good father.”
Diego grunts. “You’ve said it yourself. Lola adores her. How do you think she’ll react to you walking away after all that Maren’s been through?”
“How do you think Maren will react when Lola never wants her to fly again?”
Diego sets his bottle on the ground and laces his hands behind his head. “What makes you think Maren will ever want to get into a plane again?”
“Because it’s in her blood. Like cops who take a bullet or firefighters who get burned, Maren will recover and go back to work.”
“But if she didn’t fly again, would that make a difference for you?”
“Yes. I’d have to deal with two traumatized women instead of one.” I smirk because humor is my escape.
“I know you won’t walk away.”
I glance at him. “How do you know that?”
“It’s the blow job.”
“Fuck you,” I mumble, shoving him until his chair begins to tip over. Diego catches himself while cackling.
When his laughter settles and my grin fades, I blow out a long breath. “I worked on her plane.”
Diego doesn’t look at me; he just slowly shakes his head. “Fuck.”
I nod.
“You know there’s a good chance it had nothing to do with the plane.”
Again, I nod, but I don’t know if I’ve truly convinced myself that it might not be my fault.
I check my watch. “I need to go feed the cat. And Lola wants to make Maren a welcome home cake before she arrives tomorrow.”
“That should be a fun reunion. I can’t imagine anything feeling at all awkward just because you’ve ghosted her since she woke up from a coma.”
“The awkwardness will be short lived. We won’t stay long. Jamie said Maren’s parents will be with her. They’re staying until she’s fully recovered, or at least her mom is.” I wish my confidence matched my words. I am scared out of my mind that everything is my fault. What if the reality is that I’m a bad dad, a shitty boyfriend, and an unreliable mechanic?
“So you’re meeting her parents for the first time after coma ghosting.”
I stand. “Shut up, man.” I chuckle. “And I’ve talked with them on video calls, so it’s not really a first-time introduction.”
“Yeah, but they liked you then. Now they’ll find you unworthy of their daughter. Awkward.”
“Lola will be a good buffer. Everyone loves her.” I toss my empty beer bottle and put on my helmet. “Lola, let’s go.”
“Five more minutes,” she yells, zooming past the driveway with Kai behind her.
“Five seconds,” I counter. “Later,” I say to Diego.
“Let me know how it goes.”
I head down the sidewalk. “I will.”
“Dad! Wait!” Lola ditches the scooter in the yard and flies onto her bike to chase after me. “Bye, Kai!”
Maren’s plane arrives Sunday afternoon. Lola insists we make a cake instead of buying one. Given the ninety-degree weather, I agree. Transporting a cake in this heat wouldn’t end well.
So carrot cake with pineapple it is.
“ Welcome home is too long to fit on the cake.” Lola frowns while assessing the round cake as I fill the plastic bag to pipe the message in cream cheese frosting.
“It is if I let you do it.”
“But I want her to know that I did it. So it has to be something I can do.”
I shrug. “Then what do you think it should say?”
Lola cocks her head, eyeing the cake. “Hmm, it should be something nice. Maybe ‘We love you.’ It’s short and sweet.”
“You think it should say that?”
Lola nods a half dozen times. “Yeah. I mean, we love her. Right?”
Here I am, in another pickle.
After a few seconds, I nod and hand her the bag with a small hole in the corner. “You must keep pressure on it the whole time, or you’ll have choppy letters.”
“I know. I’ve done this with Nana on cupcakes.”
“You weren’t trying to spell anything on those cupcakes.”
I don’t know why I’m surprised, but I am, as Lola perfectly writes We Love You on the cake.
“Do you think she’ll like everything?” Lola hands me the bag and licks her fingers while gazing at the room.
We have a Welcome Home sign, fresh-picked wildflowers in sets of six, balloons, and a stuffed teddy bear.
“I think she’ll love it,” I say, even if she’s not going to love me so much because I’m a human asshole afraid of fucking up my daughter, my future, and my whole life.
Forty-five minutes later, two vehicles pull into the driveway. Fitz, Jamie, Will, Maren, and her parents climb out and make their way to the front door. My heart tries to break through my chest, one pounding beat at a time.
Emotions burn my eyes, but I fight like hell to keep my composure. I’m seeing the woman I never thought I’d see again. It’s as emotionally unsettling as it would be if Brynn stepped out of a car in the driveway.
Lola can’t wait. We planned to yell surprise when they entered the door, but she bolts into the yard.
“Lola!” I rush toward the door. I don’t want her tackling Maren with her uncontrolled excitement.
Jamie must have the same thought because she steps in front of Maren and holds up her hands to Lola. “Be very gentle, okay? She has some broken bones.”
Lola nods as Jamie steps aside and lets Lola wrap her arms around Maren, being careful of her sling. Maren runs her hands lovingly through Lola’s hair.
“Fuck,” I mumble, stepping back and hiding behind the door while I wipe my pathetic teary eyes. “Get your shit together.” I give myself a quick pep talk and come out of hiding just as everyone makes their way up the porch stairs.
Maren has scabs on her face and moves slower than usual.
“Look at the swing,” she says.
“It’s so fun! Do you want to sit on it with me?” Lola asks.
“Maybe later,” I say, stepping into view with my brave face. “Lola, let’s let Maren get settled. I’m sure it’s been a long travel day.”
Maren shifts her blue-eyed gaze to me. It’s a soft look and an easy smile, yet it pierces my chest.
Drawing in a long breath, I smile. “Welcome home.”
She doesn’t speak. She doesn’t move.
“Nice to meet you in person,” her dad says, offering his hand. I shake it.
Then her mom smiles and walks right into me for a hug. “Good to see you, Ozzy,” she says, as if we’ve hugged before.
“Come see what’s inside!” Lola leads the way.
Maren’s parents, Jamie, Will, and Fitz step past me into the house with slight nods and smiles. They’re leaving us alone. I don’t know if it’s by plan or by chance.
Foolish words line up on the tip of my tongue because this isn’t a moment for which one can rehearse.
Glad you’re alive.
Thanks for not dying.
I should have known better than to fall in love with you.
I didn’t call you back, because I’ve been busy.
What’s up?
Did you have a good flight?
Maren takes two slow steps toward me and leans forward, resting her good hand and cheek on my chest.
Not one word.
I close my eyes and slide one hand along her back while my other cradles the side of her head.
She’s warm.
She’s slowly breathing.
She’s here.
She’s alive.
“Are you coming inside?” she finally says in a soft voice, taking a step back as I angle my body away from her and pinch the bridge of my nose, but the fucking tears won’t retreat.
“Yeah. Uh, just give me a minute.”
Her fingers brush my other hand as she steps past me to the door. “I’ll give you all the time you need.”
I swallow past the lump in my throat and get it together. My experience with love has been extreme. The bigger the love, the greater the pain. And I don’t know if it’s worth it, because it fucking hurts to love someone this much.
When I reenter the house, Lola shows Maren the cake and the gifts. Maren gives Lola a one-armed hug, and I think she might cry after reading the We Love You . But then she lets her gaze drift to other things, all the things I did to her house while she was working and trying to die on me.
The newly remodeled kitchen.
The refinished wood floors.
The fresh paint.
We make eye contact, and she mouths, Thank you.
“Sit down, Maren.” Her mom guides her to the sofa while her dad inspects my workmanship.
The next hour is a blur of echoey conversations and occasional glances from Maren as she eats cake and listens to Lola talk her ear off. Will has to leave before his cat allergy kills him, and Fitz and Jamie head to dinner.
“We’re ordering pizza. Are you and Lola staying?” Colleen asks. “We’d love it if you would.”
“I have work in the morning. And Maren won’t get any rest if I don’t get my daughter out of here.”
“Dad!” Lola rolls her eyes. Of course she’s listening when I don’t need her to hear me.
“It’s true. Maren needs rest to continue healing.” I playfully tug her long hair.
Lola huffs a long sigh. “Fine. Bye, Maren. We’ll be back tomorrow. Right, Dad?” She kneels on the sofa next to Maren and hugs her.
I avert my gaze when Maren eyes me over Lola’s shoulder. “We’ll see,” I murmur.
“We can’t thank you enough for everything you and Lola have done around here,” Aaron says, shaking my hand again.
“No thank-you necessary.” I smile.
“I hear you ride a bike,” Colleen says to Lola. “Can you show Aaron and me your bike?” Again, I feel like her mom wants to give us time alone.
I’m not ready to be alone with her. Just a few minutes on the porch were plenty awkward. The guilt and shame are eating me alive, and I’m not emotionally ready or equipped to deal with it tonight.
“It’s just a bike,” Lola says with a shrug that makes Aaron and Colleen chuckle. “But sure. I’ll show you my bike.”
When they’re out the door, I face the sofa and stuff my hands into my front jeans pockets. “I have some explaining to do, but I don’t think tonight is the right time.”
Maren slowly shakes her head. “You don’t owe me an explanation. Has your silence hurt? Yes. But my feelings are not your problem,” she says so calmly, so full of unspoken understanding, I can’t help but feel unworthy of being part of her life. “And I love how everything looks. It’s beautiful. The flowers, Ozzy.” She blinks the emotion from her eyes. “The fucking flowers.” Shaking her head, she sniffles and swallows hard. “Thank you.” She tries to change the subject with flowers.
And maybe that’s for the best, but it feels wrong. I don’t deserve an out.
“What I did was unforgivable,” I say.
She winces. “No, Ozzy. Something terrible happened, and you were just trying to survive. And that’s all I was trying to do. It doesn’t have to be pretty. The anger I felt has faded. And when I saw you step out onto the porch, it no longer mattered.”
“I was weak,” I whisper.
“You’re anything but weak.”
I stare at the ceiling and exhale a slow breath. “I have never felt so helpless in my life. Hundreds of miles away with nothing but a bike, the memories of Brynn’s death, and a child who broke down when I begged her to let me go see you.” I drop my gaze as tears trail down Maren’s cheeks.
She doesn’t try to hide them or wipe them away as Bandit jumps onto her lap.
“I have ...” I shake my head, pressing my lips together while I find the words. “I have so many emotions that don’t all fit together and make sense.”
Maren nods, sliding her fingertips along her tearstained cheeks as she sniffles. “I’ll be here ready to listen. And I don’t care if your emotions make sense. I don’t think a lot of things in life make sense. Maybe our love doesn’t make sense, but I love you nonetheless.”
Why does she have to be so kind?
I glance out the front window at Lola.
“Thank you for everything you’ve done to my house. It’s more beautiful than I imagined.” She repeats her gratitude as if working on her house makes up for ignoring her.
“I worked on that plane.”
Maren’s smile deflates, eyes narrowed as if she’s not following my sudden shift in topic. “Ozzy, I don’t think it was the plane. From what I’ve been told, there was rotor turbulence. And I was on my way back. They were grounding everyone. And I don’t remember everything, but I do remember turbulence.”
“Taylor said they don’t know the cause and might not know for weeks. And Jamie said you didn’t remember much when you came out of your coma. So how can you say it wasn’t the plane when everyone knows you’re a very skilled pilot?”
“You’re a very skilled mechanic. And you don’t travel with me, so you’re not the last person to inspect the plane before I fly.”
I know what she’s saying is true, but I hate feeling so helpless.
“Lola’s not going to want you to fly again,” I say.
Maren keeps her gaze on Bandit as he purrs on her lap. “I know,” she murmurs.
“But you’re going to do it anyway, aren’t you?”
She lifts her gaze to mine and nods. “I’m going to do it for myself. I’m going to do it for all the other pilots I work with. And I’m going to do it so Lola can see that not all tragedy ends in death. This accident wasn’t an epiphany. It was a risk I take with my job.”
I understand, but Lola will not. And that will put me in the middle of an impossible situation. “I’d better go,” I whisper, but I don’t know whether to step toward her or the door.
Maren gives me a sad smile as if she can read my mind. “Whatever you’re feeling is okay. Maybe I’m not the only one who still needs to heal.”
“I love you,” I say because I don’t think I can ever leave her again without saying it.
She frowns. “But?”
I shake my head while deciding I need my next step to be toward her. “No buts.” Kneeling before her, I rest my hands on her legs, forcing Bandit to jump off the sofa. “I love you, even if it scares me to death. The only thing that scares me more is trying not to love you. But I have to come to terms with the fear that kept me from being there for you. I feel ashamed, guilty, and embarrassed.”
“Ozzy,” she says, pressing her hand to my cheek while her head tilts.
Closing my eyes, I lean into her touch and turn my head so my lips press to her wrist. “You have to let me work through this without feeling the need to make it better for me.” I open my eyes and lean forward until our mouths are a breath apart.
She traces my bottom lip with the pad of her thumb.
“You just need to get better. Okay? And I’m here for you. I’m not abandoning you,” I say with a smile. “Lola wouldn’t let me.”
Maren smiles, and my willpower dissolves as I kiss her. I want nothing more than something easy again. Life was easy before Brynn died.
Normal was easy.
Everything since she died seems to come with a warning or an asterisk.
Lola’s alive, but . . .
I can go back to work, but ...
An amazing woman has come into my life, but ...
“I’m sorry that nothing about my life is easy. I’m sorry that I’m struggling at the worst possible time.” I brush my lips against hers. “But make no mistake about it, I’m so fucking grateful that you’re sitting here with me.”
I have to make things right. She deserves better than the man I’ve been these past few weeks. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I have to be a better man for her.