Chapter 18
Nate
My house looks like a damn sporting goods store exploded. Coolers are filled up by the door, fold-up chairs from the garage, fishing poles propped against the wall, and a bunch of blankets Ben swears we’ll need.
Lizzie has planted herself on one side of the couch, her hand bracing her pregnant belly. “Can’t believe y’all are dragging my pregnant ass into the woods,” she grumbles to Gracie, who nods along with her, patient as ever.
“Thought fresh air was supposed to be good for you,” Alex says, coming down the hall, ducking when she chucks a throw pillow at him.
Calvin and Ben are over by the window, talking about fishing techniques, even though I know Ben doesn’t know what he’s talking about.
Dude doesn’t even like fishing.
The kids are chasing each other around the coffee table, nearly tripping over stray supplies, while I’m holding baby Margot, making her giggle. She’s so cute. Looks just like Uncle Nate.
It’s exactly how I like it, messy and loud, Wesley family chaos.
Right in the middle of it all, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I hand baby girl back to Gracie and step into the kitchen, away from the noise.
“Hey, Darlin’, you busy?”
“Just sketching. Are you already on your way?”
“Almost. Everybody’s here now, raising hell in my living room,” I lean back against the counter. “And heads up, we’ll probably lose signal for most of the trip.”
“Oh. Right. I guess that makes sense.”
“Don’t sound so sad,” I tease. “It’ll only be for a few days.”
“I know. I’ll miss you, though.”
“I’ll miss you too.”
It’s really hitting me now that I’m not going to see her for four days. “Maybe I should stay home,” I offer, actually considering it.
She laughs it off. “Be safe, okay?”
“I will,” I sigh, glancing back toward the living room, where Ben’s about to have to referee a fight between the kids. “Alright, guess I’d better wrangle these crazy kids before somebody gets hurt.”
“Okay, have fun!”
I can’t help but stand there staring at the dark screen. It shouldn’t hurt this bad to be gone from her for a couple of days. Hell, I used to look forward to our trips when I was with Savannah, and she didn’t want to go.
Right now, I’m just wishing Iris was coming with us.
Lizzie’s voice pulls me back from my pity party. “Nate! Are we leaving or what?”
I shove my phone back in my pocket, push off the counter, and head back into the noise, but the feeling that somebody’s missing doesn’t go away.
My sister is leaning against my truck like it’s the only thing keeping her upright, watching us unpack. “Liz, you sure you’re up for this?” I ask, already picturing her going into labor in the woods.
I’m prepared for most things, but definitely not that.
She glares at me. “I’m fine, Nate. The baby isn’t due for another month. Besides, Sammy’s been talking about s’mores for two weeks. I’m not gonna be the reason she doesn’t get ‘em.”
“Oh! s’mores!” My niece perks up.
Ben groans. “Liz!”
She cackles, walking away to go bother Calvin. I laugh along with her while Ben tries to tell Sammy that we’ll have them tonight after dinner.
Alex joins me, looking more alert than he has in a while. “You got the tent?”
We get to work setting up, Alex helping me unfold it, the same one I’ve had since dad used to take me camping before mom died. I expected him to wander off and do his brooding thing, but he stays the entire time, holding the poles steady while I anchor them into the ground.
“You remember doin’ this with Dad?”
He shrugs. “Sort of.” There’s something softer in his tone when he adds, “I mostly remember you doing it.”
“Fair enough. I guess I did do most of it. Before Mom died, Dad used to love going camping. He’d take us every year, make a big thing about it,” I say, smiling at the bittersweet memory.
By the time the tent’s standing, the sun’s fully out and the fall air is starting to feel warm. Lizzie’s sitting on a blanket under the trees, shoes kicked off, Margot beside her on the blanket, kicking around. Gracie’s playing with the older kids, looking for leaves and pine cones.
Calvin and Ben have already cracked open a couple of beers.
“Come on.” I pat Alex on the back and join the guys, grabbing a beer for myself and handing one to Alex.
We are on vacation.
“Seriously?” He asks, snatching the beer from my hand before I change my mind.
“Only one.”
That evening, Alex surprises me.
I look over while I’m poking at the campfire, in time to see him kneeling beside Sammy, helping her loop grass into a bracelet.
Her whole face lights up when he puts it on her.
I catch his eye as he glances up, and he actually smiles. Right now, away from Rosehill and whatever’s going on with him there, he reminds me of the old Alex.
The kid who loves his family, who would follow me around the yard wanting to help with whatever I was doing. Who used to come to every game.
Seeing a glimpse of the real him puts into perspective how much he’s changed. And how worried I actually am.
Later, when it’s quiet, we end up outside the tent, staring at the lake. The moon reflects on the water, while crickets fill the comfortable silence. “I’m glad we’re doing this.”
Alex huffs out a breath. “Me too,” he says. “Thanks, Nate. For caring.”
I bump my shoulder into his, “Anytime, kid.”
It’s late in the morning on our last day when I finally manage to get Alex to come fishing with me. I know it ain’t his thing, but dad used to take me, and hell, Alex is as much my boy as anybody, so it’s time to pass on the tradition.
He’s sitting against a tree, guitar perched on his lap. His hair’s a mess, and his clothes are dirty from sitting on the ground, but he looks more at peace than I’ve seen in a long time.
Like being on this trip has released him from whatever burden he’s been carrying around.
“Whatcha playing?” I ask, stopping in front of him.
“Nothing,” he says, but continues to play a pretty tune I haven’t heard before.
Kid’s damn talented.
“Well,” I clap my hands together, “Guitar can wait. C’mon. We’re going fishing.”
“I don’t wanna go fishing,” he complains, “I’m working on something.”
“You can play that thing any time. C’mon.” I grin. “You’ll like it once we get out there.”
He gives me a flat look, but after a second, he sighs, setting his guitar on the ground. “You always do this,” he mutters, grabbing his hoodie from a pile of leaves. “Make me do outdoors crap.”
“Outdoors crap builds character,” I tell him, handing him one of the old rods. “Besides, I’ll do most of the work. All you gotta do is sit there with the fishing pole. Ain’t exactly rocket science.”
Alex pouts, but follows me anyway, grumbling, “I don’t wanna catch fish.”
We settle in on a pair of overturned buckets near a rotting dock, and I bait his hook for him, like Dad used to do for me when I was a kid.
“You remember coming out here when we were younger?” I ask, flicking my wrist to cast out.
“Not really.”
“First time we brought you, you were still a baby, just starting to walk.” I smile at the memory of playing with baby Alex at this same campsite.
He was real cute, all blonde hair and big blue eyes, chubby as can be.
“I remember,” I start, pushing away the sadness that tugs at my heart. “I begged Dad to bring us. It was tradition, y’know? I figured that still mattered even if Mom was gone. He finally agreed, but spent the whole time drunk off his ass.”
“Sounds like dad,” Alex says, not bothering to hide the hatred he has for dad.
We’ve been having a good time, even if Alex don’t wanna admit it.
Telling old stories, teasing each other, goofing off, like old times. But at some point, Alex stops talking, instead focusing on something far in the distance.
“You alright?” I ask, bumping his arm.
“I’m sorry, Nate.”
“What for?” I frown.
“For everything.” he stares down at the water, shoulders hunched. “For existing, I guess.”
I stare at him, fishing rod going slack in my hands. “What the hell are you talking about, kid?”
“If I hadn’t been born,” The words spill out fast like they’ve been sitting inside him too long, “Mom would still be here. Dad wouldn’t have fallen apart. You wouldn’t have had to take care of me and miss out on your own life.” His voice cracks. “Everything would be better.”
I shake my head, my chest tightening with each word. “Alex—”
“And it’s not even worth it,” he rushes out, “I’m not worth it, Nate. I’m- I’m a loser. I can’t even—” He starts to say something, but stops.
“I’m not worth her dying for.” He scrubs at his eyes, looking anywhere but me as tears threaten to fall.
I set my stuff down and turn toward him. “Alex, look at me.” He shakes his head, shoulders curling in tighter. “Hey,” I put a hand on his shoulder.
“Look at me.”
Slowly, he does. And God, the look on his face guts me. All the pain and guilt he’s been carrying.
I had no idea he was feeling this way.
“None of that is your fault. Not a damn bit of it.”
“But—”
“No,” I cut in, my voice clearer than it’s ever been because nothing has ever been more important for me to get right. “She chose to have you. She loved you, Alex. So much. And Dad? He bailed on us. That was on him, not you.”
“But if she hadn’t died, you would’ve had a normal life.”
“You are my normal life. I wouldn’t trade you for nothing. Not for Mom still being here, not for Dad staying sober, not for a damn thing.”
He blinks hard, the tears finally slipping free. “But I’m not even—”
“I love you, kid. You’re worth everything to me.”
He drops his head, crying quietly, his shoulders shaking.
And we ain’t exactly huggers in this family, but I don’t even care. I pull him into me with a hand on the back of his hoodie, and after a moment, I feel him lean against me.
We sit there on the buckets for a long time. “Shhh, it’s okay,” I murmur, over and over. “I got you, Alex. I always got you.”
By the time I pull back into the driveway, it’s damn near 10 o’clock. The drive home was quiet. Alex had his head against the window, half-asleep, with the radio playing low.
I’m tired too, in that good, bone-deep way.
Campfire smoke still clings to my clothes, and my muscles are aching from wrestling tents and chasing the kids around. But there’s something else sitting on my heart.
Alex fucked me up, saying he shouldn’t have been born.
What the hell is he thinking?
I wouldn’t be happier without him, and I hate that he could ever think that. I can’t help but wonder what I’ve done to make him feel that way.
When I get closer to the house, headlights reveal a figure sitting on the porch steps, and my heart does this stupid flip before my brain even catches up.
She’s got her knees pulled up, arms wrapped around them, hair falling forward in loose waves that shine in the porch light. And as soon as she sees my truck, she pushes to her feet.
I cut the engine and climb out, leaving Alex to sleep in the truck for now. “Hey,” I call out, shutting the door behind me. “What’re you doing out here?”
“I know you just got back, and you’re probably tired. But I wanted to see you,” she says, all nervous, twisting her fingers around.
Like she thinks I’m not gonna be happy to see her.
She could’ve said she wanted to kick my ass, and I’d have been just as stupidly happy as I am right now.
“I’m always gonna wanna see you.” When I get near enough, I catch her scent, some sorta floral.
God, I missed her.
“Did you have fun?” she asks.
I nod. “It was good to have everybody together. And me and Alex talked.”
I can see in the way she relaxes, like she’s been worried about him too. The way she clearly cares for Alex makes my feelings for her so much more.
Especially after my talk with him.
I step closer, enough that I could kiss her if I leaned down. But instead, I reach for her hand, my thumb tracing over her knuckles.
There’s something I gotta do.
“Iris—” I start, then pause, my mouth going dry while she looks up at me with this adorable, confused face, and I don’t blame her. I sound serious as hell.
“I’ve been wanting to ask you something,” I start, “Been wanting to ask for a while now.”
“What is it?”
“I know we haven’t been seeing each other that long,” I say, stumbling, ‘cause I’m not used to feeling this damn nervous. “But I don’t wanna see anybody else. Don’t want you seeing anybody else.” I lift her hand, pressing a slow kiss to the back of it.
“I want you to be my girlfriend.”
I almost think she’s gonna say no when her face turns to pure shock, and she doesn’t say anything for a second too long.
“Nate…” She starts, and I brace myself, but. “I would love that.”
Relief floods through me as I cup her face, thumbs brushing over the warm flush on her cheeks. “You sure?”
“I’ve been sure.” Her hands come up to hold my face. “Since you danced with me.”
And then she’s leaning in, standing on her toes.
I meet her lips halfway.
I wrap an arm around her waist, pulling her in closer, feeling the shape of her body melt into me, as the tender kiss begins to heat up.
Her hands slide up into my hair, fingertips curling, and I let out a groan in return.
When we finally pull away, before we take things too far, we’re both breathing harder than we should be. “Guess that makes it official, huh?”
“Yeah. Official.”