Rose #2
I glance at Win, surprised that he didn’t mention that I’m on a road trip with Ben.
“Mommy threw up on her shoes, and we needed a restroom,” Ben announces.
I let out a long-suffering sigh, and trust me, I am suffering from my kiddo’s inability to filter. I put my fork down, my appetite dead in the water. “Please stop telling everyone about me throwing up on my shoes, Ben.”
It was embarrassing enough the first time he told Joel at the diner. Win’s eyes crease with concern. Murph stops eating to look at me, his gaze probing, before a shutter comes down, rendering him unreadable.
“But if they don’t know you’re sick, then they won’t know you need someone to take care of you like you take care of me when I’m sick,” Ben says, making all the sense in the world.
I love this boy so damn much.
“Smart kid,” Joel says, eyes sparkling.
Ben puffs his chest out, preening.
“I don’t need anyone to take care of me,” I tell Ben.
“I’d say everyone needs a little help every now and again,” Win says, giving Murph’s shoulder a nudge. “Even this big guy has been known to ask for help when he needs it.”
Murph grumbles but doesn’t deny it, making me curious what kind of help he needed and why. One thing I can’t disagree with is Win’s logic. Everyone does need a little help every now and again.
“We’re on a road trip,” Ben says, glancing at me.
I smile. “It’s okay. You can tell them about it.”
For the next several minutes, between bites of his dinner, Ben tells Win, Murph, and Joel about all the places he’s excited to see on our road trip.
I might have spent two weeks at my parents' dining table planning it, but it didn’t start there.
This road trip has been years in the making.
Years ago, before we graduated from college, Simon and I mapped out where we’d stop, what we’d see, everything.
The only thing we didn’t do was make time for the damn trip.
Win, Joel, and Murph listen, asking him questions about sights. I fill in the gaps when Ben looks at me because he can’t remember everything.
Ben clears all the broccoli from his plate, not just the five pieces I said he had to eat.
He even forgets to remind me about the scoop of vanilla ice cream I told him he could have if he did.
I can’t remember the last time he did that, but I know it has everything to do with the three men sitting at this dining table.
“Mommy, are you going to die?”
Not a question I expected from my five-year-old as I tucked him into bed after giving him a bath and brushing his teeth.
He fought hard to avoid coming upstairs.
Once he decided to show Murph, Win, and Joel all his toys—including his Lego—I knew getting him to leave the living room after dinner would be a battle.
I was right. It was an epic one.
“No, I won’t die,” I tell him gently. “Why do you think that, baby?”
He looks down, fussing with the sheet I pulled over him seconds before. “Gramma got sick, and she went away. Now you’re sick, and I don’t want you to go away like Daddy.”
Oh crap.
He means his great-grandma, Audrey, my dad Bryan’s mom who died a couple of years ago. Ben loved spending time with her. Part of the reason Simon and I moved to Memphis was so Ben could get to know her before she passed.
“Baby, mommy’s tummy is a little unsettled. I’m not going anywhere.”
He gives me a long, searching look.
Climbing onto the bed beside him, I wrap my arm around him and bury a kiss in his soft, clean-smelling brown hair.
“I’ll be an old lady trying to steal kisses, and you’ll be shrieking at me to leave you alone.
” Then I tickle him until he giggles and squirms to get free.
Only then do I stop. “I love you, baby.”
“I love you too, Mommy.”
“Ready for your story?”
He nods. “You have to do all the animal voices this time.”
I am truly terrible at them, but I still do all the animal sounds that Ben adores.
One bedtime story later, Ben is softly snoring as I close his favorite farm-animal book and set it on the nightstand. I pull the covers up to his chin, kiss his forehead, then turn off the lamp and walk out, closing the door behind me.
It’s 8 p.m., and now it’s my time to unwind and relax.
If Ben and I were at a motel, I’d give our room a quick clean before unwinding, but here there’s nothing to do. Win, Joel, and Murph had the dining table wiped down and the dirty dishes in the dishwasher before I could get up from my chair.
Ben was so excited to show off his toys to Joel, Win, and Murph in the living room that I slipped away for five minutes to call my mom and reassure her that I wasn’t lying dead on the side of the road.
My dad, Bryan, would have told her I was fine, but she would still want to hear my voice.
No matter how old I am, if I go too many days without speaking to her, she automatically assumes the worst.
I linger in the hallway, my gaze fixed on the staircase.
Sensible Rose whispers into my right ear that I should get ready for bed and have an early night. But the invisible strings tying me to my scent-match are pulling at me so insistently that I can’t ignore them.
After losing Simon and witnessing firsthand just how fast life can spin off its axis, I need to talk to him before I go to bed.
I head down the stairs.
Murph is in the living room with the TV off, scowling as he stares into the distance.
Win and Joel are out on the back porch. I can just about hear the low hum of their conversation drifting down the entryway toward me, though I don’t know what they’re talking about.
I take in Murph’s angry scowl and start having second thoughts about coming down here. I turn away, take two steps toward the staircase, then stop.
Put on your big-girl pants, Rose. You need to apologize for snapping at him.
I swing back around and bounce off a familiar hard chest. “Oof.”
“Sorry.” Murph steadies me and immediately takes his hands off my hips before he backs up a step. “I heard someone in the entryway and hoped it was you.”
“Yeah. I was just...” There’s no easy way to tell him that I was running away, so I let my voice trail off and make myself look like a bigger fool than he probably already thinks I am. “Um, why aren’t you outside with Win and Joel?”
“Needed to think.”
“You looked mad.”
“I was.”
“At me?”
He appears startled. “Why would I be mad at you?”
I shrug. “Because of our conversation on the porch before. And obviously lunch was awkward.”
He gives me a long, searching look. “I was in here thinking about how I would apologize to you, and I was getting frustrated with myself. That’s why I looked pissed.”
Apologize to me?
I scrunch my nose. “What for?”
“What I said to you outside… asking you about Simon. I shouldn’t have done it. I grew up talking to horses. It’s not an excuse, but I sometimes speak before thinking.”
I bite the inside of my cheek to contain my smile. “Um, and did you speak to a lot of horses?”
A faint smile softens his expression. “More than I will ever admit to. Leaving a rural ranch to become a construction worker pushed me to interact with more people. It’s been over ten years, and I still often say the wrong thing instead of the right.”
“You didn’t say the wrong thing, Murph.”
“I didn’t?” The tension in his shoulders eases.
I shake my head. “I snapped at you for asking a perfectly normal question, then got embarrassed about facing you afterward. It’s why lunch was so awkward.”
He nods, then cocks his head. “You ate chicken before, so you can’t be a vegetarian or a vegan. Do you have a problem with my family being cattle ranchers? And I haven’t stopped being curious about why you don’t want me wearing my cowboy hat around Ben.”
I cross my arms, my cheeks hot. “Um, it’s not about you. Ever since I showed up in Rios, the universe is set on making my son attached to the place.”
He raises his brow. “In what way?”
“Well, he loves firefighters, fire trucks, birthday cake, and making new friends. Guess what came up in our conversation with Joel the firefighter, with a godson’s birthday coming up that he’s invited to?”
“Ah.”
“And then Ben ran off, and Win helped me find him.”
Concern flashes across his face.
I smile faintly. “He was okay. Just bored waiting for me to wake up. Win told me about this place and that you're a construction worker. Guess what else my son loves?”
His mouth twitches. “How far off the mark would I be if I guessed building houses?”
“Yeah. And then he meets you. A real-life cowboy.”
The universe is serving up all my son’s favorite things, and it’s not just him.
His amusement fades. “What about you?”
I look away. “I don’t know. Talking about Simon with you is…
difficult. That’s not your fault. If I hadn’t lost him, I wouldn’t have found you.
If I had found you, I wouldn’t have known him or had Ben.
I tell myself I have nothing to feel guilty about, that it’s not wrong to want you, but I do, and I took it out on you when I shouldn’t have.
You’re not to blame, and you didn’t need to apologize to me. I’m the one who owes you an apology.”
“Would you feel more comfortable back in Memphis?” he asks, voice low. “Say the word, and we can pack up and leave tomorrow.”
Within an hour of knowing Ben and me, he offered to rip up his life in Rios to move back to my hometown. He’s reminding me that offer still stands. And I get the sense he wouldn’t be the only one coming to Memphis with Ben and me if I said yes to Murph.
A pack, once formed, almost always stays together, and for a pack to break apart is something I’ve never heard of. But some must. There is always an exception to the rule.
I shake my head, refusing his offer. “It would be harder. Everywhere I looked, I saw Simon, memories of our life together, and I knew I could never move on there. I had to get away.”
He nods, hesitating, then says in a rush as if afraid I’ll interrupt. “I noticed most of the stuff in your car was for Ben.”