Chapter Twenty-Six
EMERSON GAZED DOWN at Brennan as she nursed him in a booth at Common Grounds. He still made those sweet noises when he nursed, and he had a new habit of resting his hand on her breast. She and Baz joked that he was like a trucker bellying up to the bar, making sure nobody stole his beer. They’d had a relatively smooth morning. Unlike yesterday, when it seemed like everything that could go wrong, did. It had rained, and Ollie had tracked mud all over the house, and Brennan had decided it wasn’t a good day for naps. But if she’d learned anything about life with a baby and a dog, it was that deep breaths went a long way. After hearing Leah’s and Chloe’s stories about wanting to pull their hair out on napless days and sleepless nights, she considered herself lucky to have an easy baby who seemed to enjoy their trips to the coffee shop as much as she did. They’d settled into a routine of coming in three or four times a week. Elliott and Gabe were always excited to see them, and she loved talking all things baking with Elliott and getting to know some of the other customers who came there to work. She brought Ollie with her once a week, and Elliott couldn’t be happier. If he had his way, Ollie would come with her every time she was there. But as well behaved as Ollie was, keeping her eye on a dog and a baby made it twice as hard to concentrate on editing.
“See you tomorrow,” Whitney said as she walked past.
“Have a great day.” Emerson had peeked at the first chapter of her manuscript last week, and the writing was good. She was going to dive in when she finished her current editing job. Another client had already booked her for late October, and Emerson was fine with not being overloaded. She’d been spending more time with Baz and his family and enjoying every minute of it. The playdates with Leah and Chloe were like therapy. They talked for hours about kids and families, and of course, their guys, and she’d had lunch with Madigan last week. Emerson loved her energy. Madigan was as passionate about happiness as she was about her varying furies. Last weekend they’d stayed at Baz’s house so Ollie could hang with Gunner and Sid’s dogs again, and she’d loved spending more time with Gunner and Sid, too. They’d all gone out on Blaine’s boat Saturday with Blaine, Reese, and Colette, and they’d had a great time. The more time she spent with everyone, the more she realized that before moving there, she’d used constant deadlines to fill the emptiness in her life. Like she’d been just trying to make it from one day to the next. Sleepwalking through life.
Her life was anything but empty these days, and the people and activities had reawakened the hopes and dreams of the girl she’d been years ago.
She glanced at her laptop, on which she’d sidelined editing to research the permitting process for a residential or wholesale kitchen. She’d been talking with Baz about the idea of trying to get a permit and making a go of selling her baked goods. He was as excited as she’d become about the prospect. She’d met with Brandy last week about working with her on future catering gigs, too. But all these steps forward had her thinking about her parents more often, and she found herself trying harder to hold on to the memories of them. Every morning she looked at the sealed boxes in her bedroom and thought, Today I’m going to open them. But she had yet to get up the strength to do it.
Brennan finished nursing, drawing her from her thoughts. After changing his diaper and giving him a million kisses, she put him in his stroller beside the table for his nap, rolling it slowly with her foot as she got back to work.
When her phone buzzed with a text a little while later, she hoped it was Baz. He had church tonight, and then he was hanging out with the guys, which meant she wouldn’t see him until tomorrow. As much as she missed him on nights they were apart, it was good practice for when he was overseas.
Pushing away the heaviness of that thought, she turned her phone over and saw the text wasn’t from him but from Gwen.
Gwen: I can’t stop looking at that picture of Brennan you sent last night. She added a laughing emoji and an emoji wearing sunglasses.
Baz had surprised Brennan with the tiniest pair of jeans she’d ever seen and a T-shirt he’d had made with F UTURE D ARK K NIGHT written across the front above a picture of a motorcycle with training wheels. They’d dressed him in them after his bath and had sent pictures to everyone. With his spiky hair and that little smirky grin, he looked hilarious. Their phones had blown up last night with all the comments.
Gwen: I’ll never understand how you got a baby with cool hair, when I have three times as much hair as you do, and my baby is still rocking peach fuzz.
Emerson: She’s the cutest peach-fuzz baby I’ve ever seen!
Two red hearts popped up.
Gwen: Check out these outfits my parents sent me.
A picture popped up of Karina, with her dark peach fuzz and adorable button nose, wearing a ridiculously puffy pink dress that had so many ruffles and so much lace, it took all the attention away from her beautiful little face. Another picture appeared of her wearing a yellow jumper, also laden with ruffles and lace, and a big yellow bow around her forehead.
Emerson: They need the headline “Karina Rocks Fashion Week.” She added three laughing emojis.
Emerson: Have your parents said anything about visiting yet?
They’d sent another box of gifts for Brennan and they’d called once, which was more than Emerson had expected, but she was furious with them for not visiting Gwen.
Gwen: Just that they’re not returning from their life hiatus until November, so we should hold Thanksgiving open for them. She added an eye-roll emoji.
Emerson: That’s crappy. I’m sorry.
Gwen: It is what it is. Would you mind if I begged out of our call tonight? My MIL surprised us with a visit (LOVE HER!), and Yuri wants to take advantage of me.
Gwen: I mean…take advantage of the time and take me on a date.
A devil emoji popped up.
Emerson. Ha! Lucky you! Have fun flirting and getting sexy with your man. We’ll chat another time.
Gwen: If only we had a motorcycle. She added a winking emoji. Talk soon! xo
As Emerson set her phone down, laughing to herself, she saw Ginger walk into the coffee shop. Elliott greeted her, and they talked for a minute. When Ginger noticed Emerson, her eyes lit up, and she made a beeline for her.
Always glad to see her, Emerson got up to hug her. “Hi. I didn’t expect to see you here. What a nice surprise.”
“I came to go over the final itinerary and menu for the Suicide-Awareness Rally with Gabe.” She peered into the stroller. “But I’m glad I ran into you. How’s our little angel?”
“Living his best life.”
“As well he should.”
“Do you want to sit down for a minute?” She motioned to the other side of the booth.
“Thanks.” Ginger slid into the booth across from her. “I was going to stop by your place later to give you these.” She pulled a few papers out of her purse and held them against her chest. “I’m not trying to be pushy. Okay , maybe I am a little, but only because you’re so talented, and everyone is talking about your doggy biscuits and cookies.”
“No, they aren’t.” Emerson shook her head, smiling.
“Yes, they are. You sent cookies with Baz to his club meeting last week, and everyone wants more.”
Her eyes widened. “I thought he was just saying that to make me feel good.”
“No, sweetheart. He’s telling you the truth. People are calling me , like they do with everything that has to do with Dark Knights families, wanting to know how they can order some. Gabe said she and Elliott asked if you wanted to start selling your cookies here, and Mads told me about Brandy’s offer. So why are you surprised?”
“I don’t know, but I spoke to Brandy last week, and…” She turned her laptop toward Ginger.
Ginger scanned the screen, her eyes lighting up. “You’re doing it?”
“I’m looking into it and getting a little excited about it.”
“Good, because I was worried I’d seem pushy when I gave you these.” She handed Emerson the papers.
Emerson skimmed them. They were the requirements for becoming a cottage food producer in Massachusetts. “This is awesome. Thank you. There are so many different things to look up. It’ll be easier to have it all in one place so I can read through it in the evenings.”
“I’d be happy to help you with the process.”
“I might just take you up on that.” She tucked the papers into the baby bag.
“I hope you do. If it were up to me, every woman would be her own boss. I know you’re already your own boss, but this could be a fun side gig. Or maybe one day editing will become your side gig.”
“I guess time will tell. How is the planning coming along for the rally?”
“Gabe makes getting ready easy. She’s so organized. Rodd’s band is going to play. I love coordinating with the community. Everyone gets excited to pitch in for events that help others. Local artists and businesses have been donating services and products for a silent auction to raise money for the program, and every year friends get up to share memories of Ashley and of loved ones they’ve lost. And at the end, we all sing ‘Just the Way You Are’ by Bruno Mars to honor the people we’ve lost, and the ones we still have.”
“That’s beautiful. I wish I had something to offer beyond baking.”
“Just being there is a bigger gift than anything that can be auctioned off. And if you’d like to get up and say something about your parents, we all welcome that. The event might be in support of raising awareness about suicide, but the intent is to help people who have lost someone. It’s a coming together of support for everyone.”
“Thank you. I don’t think I’m up to that, but I’m in awe of your family’s strength, to bring everyone together and do the rally every year. I can’t even bring myself to open the boxes that have my parents’ belongings in them, and that’s in the privacy of my own home.”
Compassion shimmered in Ginger’s eyes. “Oh, honey.” She reached across the table and covered Emerson’s hand with her own, squeezing it reassuringly. “What’s holding you back?”
“I don’t really know. I think I’m afraid of what I’ll find, and of what I won’t. Once I open the boxes, there’s nothing else left to anticipate about them, and that seems so final.”
“I understand that feeling. It’s like when we went through Ashley’s room. That felt like our final steps, too. But it wasn’t. The things we found revived memories we’d forgotten or tucked away. Not all of them were good memories, either. Ashley was headstrong, like our boys, and going through her things brought back some difficult memories. But they were important, too. They reminded us of her strength and her need for autonomy, which are two things we loved about her. Those harder memories made the good ones that much sweeter.”
A lump formed in Emerson’s throat. She put her hands in her lap, worrying them. “I was a headstrong teenager, too. My mom and I had a fight before I left for Gwen’s the night they were killed.” Her eyes teared up. “I never got to apologize, and I hate myself for it.”
“Oh, sweetheart.” Ginger sighed. “That’s an awful burden to carry, and I know how heavy a burden that is. Ashley and I went head-to-head several times the day we lost her. I could tell something was wrong, and I made the mistake of trying to pull the reins too tight. She lashed out, and we both said hurtful things that we didn’t mean.” Her voice thickened with emotion. “I thought I’d talk with her the next morning and we’d clear the air like we usually did, but I never got the chance.”
Emerson’s heart hurt for Ginger. “How did you get past that?”
“It wasn’t easy at the beginning. I felt guilty for the things I’d said, but that wasn’t our first fight, and if she’d lived, it wouldn’t have been our last. The thing is, my love for my children is unconditional. There is nothing any of them could say or do that would change how I feel about them. If they committed a heinous act, I’d be furious and disappointed, but I’d still love them the same way I did before they did it. I have to believe Ashley knew that. The same way I know that if she’d lived, I would’ve found her waiting for me in the kitchen the next morning with a stack of pancakes with I’m sorry spelled out in blueberries or chocolate chips or M&M’s, because that’s what she’d always done.” She took off her glasses and wiped her eyes. “Sorry. Thinking about those pancakes gets me every time.”
“It’s okay.” Emerson was wiping her eyes, too. “What is it about not saying you’re sorry out loud that makes it easier? I used to write it on a sticky note and leave it where I knew my mom would find it, and when she did, she’d hug me tight and tell me how much she loved me.” Blinking tears away, she berated herself for the millionth time for the argument and for rushing out that fateful night.
“It sounds like your mother and I were a lot alike. I have to believe she didn’t need an apology any more than I ever needed one from Ashley. Honey, that guilt you’re carrying is understandable, but it’s not necessary .”
“What do you mean?”
“I could be wrong, but you said going through your parents’ belongings would feel too final. I wonder if you feel the same way about forgiving yourself, and you’re holding on to the guilt as a way of holding on to your parents.”
“But…Why would I do that? I don’t want to feel guilty.”
“Nobody does, but grief does strange things to people, and guilt is powerful. It tethers us to people and things like a heavy, unbreakable chain, weighing us down. We don’t like it, but we willingly carry it for a hundred different reasons.”
How many times had her therapist told her something similar?
“The key is figuring out why you’re carrying yours,” Ginger said gently. “Maybe you’re worried that if you let that guilt go and let yourself truly move on, you’re letting them go, too.”
Emerson’s chest tightened, something in Ginger’s words ringing true.
“But, sweetheart, your parents are part of you. They live in your heart, and they’re present in everything you do. In your thoughts, your mannerisms, the way you love Brennan, and the way you love my son.”
She knew Ginger was right about her parents, but she opened her mouth to correct her about Baz, since they’d never said those three impossibly big words to each other. But knowing Ginger saw, and apparently approved of, her love for him, made her emotions bubble up again, and she couldn’t deny it.
“I’m not saying you have to forgive yourself today, tomorrow, or next month. I’m just saying it might be worth thinking about, because that precious boy you’re raising is learning from you, and he feels everything you feel.”
Talk about perspective. All it took was one glance at Brennan for Emerson to know what she had to do.
BAZ SAT AT a table in the clubhouse with his brothers and cousins as his father went over details for the Suicide-Awareness Ride, which was taking place the morning of the rally. The event was only ten days away, and it felt like a damn ticking time bomb. In less than two weeks he’d be in Indonesia, a world away from Emerson and Brennan, and he fucking hated that. He needed to get his arms around this shit, and he hoped his old man might be able to help him figure out how. His phone vibrated, and he pulled it out of his pocket.
Tank eyed the text, fuming in a harsh whisper. “Who the fuck is that?”
“Seriously?” Baz hissed. “You gotta ask like that ?”
Tank’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching.
“For fuck’s sake.” He was not in the mood for this shit. “It’s Emerson’s friend. She’s helping me with something.”
Tank lifted his chin in question.
Ignoring him, Baz thumbed out a response, then shoved his phone in his pocket, feeling Tank’s scrutinizing dark eyes on him for the rest of the meeting. Baz was anxious enough. He didn’t need Tank breathing down his back.
As soon as it was over, Baz pushed to his feet.
“Where’re you going?” Tank asked.
“I need to talk to Con.”
Tank’s brows slanted. “What’s up?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.” He started to walk away, then turned back. “Let me ask you a question. You remember those cat condos Ashley and Mads painted?”
He smirked. “Pussy Palace? What about ’em?”
“Why didn’t you tell me you went into the woods with the girls that day?”
“Ash swore me to secrecy. Why?”
“You lied to me instead of breaking your promise to a five-year-old?”
Tank lowered his chin. “ We don’t break promises to anyone. Especially her.”
“We don’t lie, either,” he said sharply.
Tank held his stare. “I didn’t lie, little brother. You asked if I knew what they’d done. I told you I didn’t, and that was true.”
“Don’t give me that bullshit. You went with them. You were there.”
“I was watching over them,” he said gruffly. “I didn’t give a shit what they were doing. They giggled like fools, and I wore a circular path around them in the woods, about twenty feet out. Why are you bringing this shit up now?”
Fuck. “No reason. We were talking about it the other night, that’s all.”
He turned to walk away, but Tank grabbed his arm, stopping him, and dragged him away from the group.
“What the fuck’s going on with you?” Tank demanded.
“I’ve just got shit on my mind.”
“Yeah, I know. You look like you’re ready to kill someone. Something happen with Em?”
“No. She’s great, Brennan’s great, and I’m going to fucking Indonesia because we don’t break promises.”
“Is that what you want to talk to Con about?”
Baz crossed his arms, nodding curtly.
Tank pulled his phone from his pocket and thumbed something out. “Let’s go.”
“Where?” He followed Tank out of the main room, through the kitchen, and out the back door. “What the hell are we doing out here?”
“Talking to me without commentary from the guys.”
Baz spun around at his father’s voice. “How the hell…?” He looked between his brother and father and wondered what other tricks he wasn’t privy to.
“What’s going on, B?” his father asked.
“He’s all twisted up about his trip,” Tank offered.
Baz glowered at him. “Do you mind ?”
Tank’s eyes remained trained on their father. “He’s stuck in a tug-of-war between his promises and his heart.”
“Jesus. Do I even need to be here?” Baz snapped. “Why are you even in this conversation?”
“Because he’s been through it,” their father said. “I’ll tell you the same thing I told Tank. You’re an adult. You can make your own decisions.”
Baz shook his head. “It’s not that easy.”
“Because you made a promise to an organization?” their father asked.
“Because he made a promise. Period ,” Tank gritted out.
“Tank—”
Baz cut his father off. “I made a promise to the organization and to an old friend, but even if it was just to the organization, how am I supposed to turn my back on them? That’s not who I am.”
“No, son, you’re right. It’s not.”
Baz paced. “But I’m also not the guy who leaves his girl behind.”
“Not that you have much experience with that,” their father said. “But no, I wouldn’t imagine you’re that guy, either.”
“Did you promise your girl you weren’t leaving?” Tank asked.
“ No. I’ve been up front since day one. But still. Could you leave Leah and the kids for four months?”
Tank’s expression hardened. “That’s irrelevant.”
“What the fuck? How is that irrelevant?” Baz stopped pacing and crossed his arms against his frustrations.
“ I didn’t promise to go someplace.”
“I mean hypothetically, dumbass.”
“I don’t break promises. Ever. To anyone,” Tank seethed. “That’s how we were raised, and our word is all we have.”
As if that wasn’t his goddamn struggle? Baz’s hands fisted. “Then why the hell did you look at me like I was doing the wrong thing at the Hog last weekend when I said I was still going away?”
“I didn’t . I looked at you like you were fucked.”
“A’right, that’s enough,” their father said. “Baz, it doesn’t matter what I would do or what Tank would do. The only thing that matters is what your heart tells you to do.”
“My heart is fucking confused.”
“Who did you make a promise to?” Tank asked. “Who’s the old friend?”
Baz ground his back teeth. “I can’t tell you that. I took an oath of secrecy.”
Anguish spread over Tank’s face as understanding hit. “ Fuck, B. ”
“Yeah” was all Baz could manage as reality slammed into him, and he realized there was no choice to be made. Trust had been bestowed on him, and he needed to honor his word. The decision felt like a rat, gnawing at his gut.
His father looked between them. “Are either of you going to clue me in?”
“ No ,” they gritted out in unison.
“Sorry, Dad. Forget I said anything. I need to stand by my promise, but I also need to know that you and the club will have Emerson’s back every minute of every goddamn day I’m gone.”
“We have her back whether you’re here or not,” their father said.
“That’s a given,” Tank agreed.
“I appreciate that. I’ve got to go.”
“I thought you were hanging with us tonight,” Tank said.
“Rain check. I need to be with Emerson.” He looked at the brother who would always tough love him, even when it felt like a fucking betrayal, and knew when push came to shove, he’d do the same to him. “Thanks.”
Tank nodded. “I’ve got you, bro.”
Their father pulled him into an embrace, holding him for a beat longer than usual. “I’m proud of you, son.” He kept a hand on Baz’s shoulder as he stepped back and said, “For the record, I’d be proud of you even if you stayed.”
Maybe so, but I wouldn’t.