Chapter Thirty-Nine #2
“Gladly—Oh, Wendy.” His voice got brighter as a dark-haired nurse strode in. “You want to hear about the time my wife dragged me skydiving for our two-year dating anniversary? I’ll let you guess which one of us vomited.”
She chuckled and picked up his empty tray, her smile warm in the cool room. Something told me she’d worked as a nurse long enough to have heard it all. “Did you at least make it to the ground before hurling?”
He smirked. “Barely.”
“Mom saw?” I asked, amused.
“She had an aerial view.”
“Lucky woman,” the nurse said, her dark eyes sparkling. “A man willing to vomit for her must love her indeed.”
“I sure did,” Dad said. He gazed at her photo. “Sure do.”
The nurse’s smile softened. Her eyes slid to mine before she nodded and slipped from the room.
“So Mom dragged you onto that plane or what?”
Dad was halfway through the story when Evan returned with his takeout. Aubrey walked in behind him. I straightened in the stiff chair as her gaze landed on me.
She smiled, a little shy but still fucking radiant with her blond hair and earthy gaze, and handed me a burger. She must have figured I hadn’t eaten. Or known I’d be hungry regardless.
Both were true. And now that I didn’t have training to worry about, I could eat the burger without consequence. Silver linings and all that.
We rearranged the chairs so Aubrey could perch on the windowsill between Evan and me while Dad finished the story.
“She said that was the day she knew she wanted to marry me. She’d already had the feeling, but that sealed the deal.”
“Because you puked all over your skydiving instructor?” Evan teased.
Dad shrugged. “Hey, I didn’t question it. I was just glad it did the trick.”
“What was your wedding like?” Aubrey asked.
She scooped a forkful of mac and cheese into her mouth, eyes bright with curiosity for this peek at my parents we hadn’t seen much of. Especially not from my Dad.
It was right, her being here. The way boxing had always felt right.
That this job offer didn’t bring me the same assuredness told me more than I needed to know.
Dad went on to share his and Mom’s wedding story, which reminded Evan of the time she’d tried to plan a surprise party for my sweet sixteen but waited too long, so the only place available to book it was Chuck E.
Cheese. I’d forgotten all about it until he brought it up. Then I couldn’t stop laughing.
One after another, we recalled stories about Mom. Some ridiculous, some endearing. Some we each remembered different aspects of and had to piece together as a group.
Talking about her like this—remembering her out loud and together—felt good. Like a balm to the places inside us she’d been ripped from that had since been bleeding.
Those pieces of us would always be missing. But the happiness of these memories, and the sadness they brought too, was somehow a comfort. A reminder I still carried her with me, both as love and as grief.
Different emotions for the same pain, the same joy. Which was which no longer mattered.
A few hours must have passed. It had long since grown dark outside, and the night nurse would be in soon to check on Dad.
He’d drifted asleep while Evan and Aubrey had worked out whether my mom ever went trick-or-treating with them as Captain Jack Sparrow from the Pirates of the Caribbean movies.
It sounded like something she’d do, but I couldn’t remember.
Now Evan slept too, his chin tucked to his chest where he slouched in his chair. I’d drive him home soon, but not yet.
Aubrey shifted along the windowsill, the glow from the dimmed ceiling lights casting her hair in a caramel shine. No wonder she wasn’t asleep. Her ass was probably numb from sitting on the narrow metal ledge.
I could offer her the comfort of Evan’s car as I drove her to her apartment, but that would mean saying good night—something I had no interest in doing.
For once, everything felt at peace. With Evan, with my dad, with my mom.
I wanted to stay in this peacefulness a bit longer, and I wanted to share it with her.
I caught her eye as she leaned against the corner of the window. “You could sit here,” I said, gesturing to my seat.
She made a face like I shouldn’t worry about it. “You’re way too big to fit on this ledge.”
My heart thumped against my sternum. “We could share.”
Her face went blank the way it did when she was trying to play it cool, but the pink in her cheeks gave her away. “You mean…like I sit on your lap?”
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. She wasn’t the only one trying to play it cool.
I knew we weren’t what we had been anymore. And I didn’t know if it was possible to be that again. To be more than that. But I wanted her close anyway. Wanted her comfortable and safe in my arms.
Maybe she wanted it too because she hopped from the window and took careful steps past Evan’s chair.
My hand shook as I grasped the tips of her fingers and guided her to my lap. She rested her head on my chest, the scent of coconut flooding my nose, and her ear settled over my rattling heart.
With her hand still in mine, her body released its weight like it knew it could in my hold. Or maybe this felt as right to her as it did to me. I played with the ends of her hair, loving its silky texture.
“Tonight was good,” she said, her soft voice a soothing melody in the quiet.
My lips rose. “Yeah, it was.” Maybe it was her body heat, but I felt warm all over, like being bundled in blankets on a cold winter morning. I’d stay like this forever if I could.
“Thank you for this,” she murmured, her words growing hazy. Her eyes had fallen closed. “You’re always taking care of me.”
My impulse was to eject the thanks like a crinkled bill from a vending machine.
Taking care of her hadn’t been conscious.
Those things she’d thanked me for yesterday, having her here with me now—all of it had been for me as much as her.
Had fed this need I had to watch her back and make sure she was okay.
To be near her, have more of her. To satisfy the selfish part of myself I hadn’t found a way to deny when it came to her.
But what if it went beyond that? What if as much as I shared my mom’s selfishness, I shared some of the care she had for those she loved.
The part that made her willing to drive eight hours for a single boxing match or stay up all night when Evan or I were sick.
The part that made her willing to suffer any discomfort if it meant her kids were happy.
Mom had both. Maybe I did too.
It had me thinking more about Dad’s words from earlier.
There was more than one way to lead my life with joy. More than one way to find my center. And as much as Dad hadn’t wanted me to turn down the job for him, I got to decide what was right for me.
It hadn’t been a decision the last time I left. More like the jerking back of my hand from a fire after being burned. I hadn’t thought about it, had hardly been in control, desperate for the only way I’d known to keep functioning after losing Mom.
For the first time in two years, my mind was clear.
I settled into the chair, savoring Aubrey’s weight as her chest rose and fell with the steady breaths of sleep. I pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Over her shoulder, Dad cracked his eyes open. His gaze went to Aubrey cradled in my arms, then to my face, his eyes meeting mine. A soft smile touched his lips.
I smiled back, surrounded by a comfort that felt a lot like Mom’s embrace.
He nodded once, then closed his eyes and went back to sleep. I sank into the peacefulness of the room.
Maybe it was selfish to love Aubrey the way I did.
But maybe, this time, that was okay.