Chapter Thirty-Eight
“I’m going to ask Victoria to discuss Maren with you this week,” I tell Lola when I tuck her into bed.
It’s been a week since I’ve seen Maren. I’ve texted her daily to see how she’s feeling, but I’ve let her spend time alone with her parents.
Who am I kidding?
I’ve been a coward, making up excuses to Lola for why we can’t visit her. I know her friends have visited. That’s what good people do.
I’m an asshole.
“Why do I need to talk to her about Maren?” Lola adjusts her pillow.
“Because you should discuss how it will make you feel when Maren returns to work.”
“What do you mean?” She narrows her eyes.
“Maren’s a pilot. When she’s better, she’ll get back in a plane and fight fires because that’s her job.”
Lola rolls her eyes. “No, she won’t.”
I brush her hair away from her face. “Why do you think that?” I know the answer, and that’s why I need her to discuss it with Victoria.
“Because she almost died in a plane. Why would she do it again?”
I keep my hand on the side of her head. “Because people with risky jobs know that their job doesn’t end just because something goes wrong.”
“I’m going to talk to her.”
I shake my head. “Maren is not your mom. We care about her—”
“We love her.” Lola lifts her chin.
I sigh. “We love her but can’t tell her what to do with her life. I need you to understand this. The whole reason you’re in therapy is because fearing something to the point that it disrupts your life is no way to live. If Maren were scared to get back in a plane, she’d probably see a therapist too. And she may see one before she flies again just to ensure she’s ready to be in the air once more. But that’s her life. Not ours.”
Lola’s frown deepens. “Do you want her to fly again?”
This girl keeps me in check—too much. She’s the living, breathing definition of accountability.
Cheyenne once said Lola is an indigo child with high intelligence, intuition, and empathy that can heal humanity.
I need to believe that she’s right.
“No. The selfish part of me wants to hold her in my arms and never let her leave the ground again. But I’m a grown-up, and I must love her how she deserves to be loved.”
“How does she deserve to be loved?”
I smile. “Like I want nothing more than to watch her soar.”
“Like a bird?”
I nod.
Lola twists her lips, and lines of concentration etch her forehead. “When I’m a grown-up, I won’t be as scared.”
I kiss her head and stand. “You will be; you’ll just learn to let love burn through those thick clouds of fear.”
She grins. “And every day will be sunny.”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “You’re so smart. Too smart, just like your mom was.”
I take my own advice on love and sneak out after everyone’s in bed.
When I get to Maren’s house, all the lights are off. So I retrieve the ladder (my ladder) from her garage and position it beneath Maren’s bedroom on the second floor. And I do this with six dandelions held between my teeth.
A dim light shines when I get to the top of the ladder. I think it’s the TV, but I can’t tell, because the blinds are closed.
Sliding my phone from my pocket, I carefully type a text without dropping it.
Ozzy: Are you asleep?
Maren: I’m watching Jimmy Fallon
Maren: What are you doing?
Ozzy: I’m outside your window, trying not to fall off the ladder
Seconds later, Maren opens the blinds, eyes wide. “What are you doing?” she says, sliding up the window with her good arm.
“Sneaking around,” I mumble over the dandelions while climbing into her bedroom.
Something between satisfaction and pride swells in my chest when I notice her wearing my T-shirt.
“My parents are across the hallway.” She nods toward her door and suppresses a giggle while I hand her the flowers.
“I figured. That’s why I said I’m sneaking around.”
Her hair is messy and damp, as if she showered before bed. She sets the flowers on the nightstand and turns. “What are you doing?” she asks while I slide my finger along my phone’s screen.
“Setting an alarm for four in the morning, so I’m out of here before your parents wake up, and I can get home before anyone at my house wakes.”
Her smile doubles. “You’re here to spend the night with me?”
I shrug off my T-shirt and remove my shorts. “I am.” I gesture toward the bed with my chin.
Maren eases into bed, reclining onto the pillows stacked for her injured collarbone. She winces a bit, and I know it’s her broken ribs.
“Close your eyes,” I say, lying on my side next to her.
She narrows them. “Why?”
“Because I want to say some things, and it won’t go well if you’re looking at me.”
Her gaze sweeps across my face before she turns toward the ceiling, closes her eyes, and whispers, “Okay.”
I rest my hand low on her stomach, fingers splayed across her soft flesh. And I relish the feel of her warm body and the floral scent of her hair. “I prepared myself to lose you,” I say. “To grieve you. To help Lola deal with another awful blow.”
Maren rests her hand over mine, squeezing it.
“But you didn’t die. And those feelings didn’t vanish when you came out of your coma. Even if your death wasn’t real, my feelings over losing you were. So I’ve needed to mourn your near death for my heart to reconcile all of those emotions and recalibrate to the reality that you’re still alive and hopefully not dying anytime soon. I’ve had to find a way to navigate my feelings about love and loss while somehow leading Lola through another tragedy, even if the outcome has been different. Everything about Brynn’s death came rushing back when I heard your plane went down. So my feelings have been ...”
“Messy,” she whispers.
“Yeah.” I lift onto my elbow and kiss the corner of her mouth. “And now, the only messy feeling I have is regret about my messy feelings because tonight, I had a long talk with Lola about grown-up love. And in the middle of my speech, I knew it wasn’t for her. It was for me. And for the past two weeks, I’ve let fear dictate how I love you. And I don’t ever want to do that again.”
Silence settles between us, and a few tears stain her cheeks. “If you asked me to stop flying, I would,” she whispers. “I’d do it to be with you and Lola because I don’t think I’ll look back on the most memorable moments in life and see the sky. I think I’ll see you and Lola.”
Well, fuck. I’m not going to get emotional, even if she’s bringing me to my proverbial knees. However, I need a few seconds to catch my breath. “I would never ask you to stop flying.”
She slides her fingers between mine. “I know,” she whispers. “But you need to know that I would.”
With Maren in my life, it never feels like the right time to think of Brynn. But right now, I hope she knows that I’ve found someone special. Someone who loves our daughter.
Maren’s body relaxes as she falls asleep beside me. And I blink, releasing the tears I’ve held since she arrived home from Canada. I still don’t know how everything will work out, but I have to believe it will.
It has to.