Chapter 43
Chapter forty-three
Steven
Now We Keep Going
“We can’t play anything else?”
“Sorry, man, I’ve tried everything.”
I pat Daniels on the shoulder as “Baby Shark” begins to blare from his phone.
“You’ll do great,” I promise, smoothing out my hair in the entryway mirror.
“How long will this last?” he asks, grimacing at the lyrics, readjusting Josie on his hip. She’s thrilled and oblivious to his pain as she claps offbeat to the music, still wearing her birthday crown.
“They say it’s just a phase.” I shrug, mildly terrified this particular phase might last forever. The Baby Shark birthday decorations loom around us like a flashy, colorful omen.
Daniels gives me one last desperate look before he accepts his fate and shuffles into the living room.
He sets Josie down, casts his phone to the TV, and suddenly, “Baby Shark: EDM Edition” is rattling the walls.
Josie, full of excitement and toddler energy, waddles straight for the balloon arch, which has already surrendered to gravity.
“Boys, come eat!” Emma calls from the kitchen.
Easton and Sawyer thunder down the steps, zooming past us, and disappear into the kitchen. The smell of garlic and pizza crust wafts through the living room, and I hear Daniels’ stomach growl. He chuckles and follows them just as the doorbell rings.
“Okay, Rob,” I hear Emma say. “Here are the phone numbers and the diner we’ll be at…”
Her voice fades as I swing open the front door, only to be met with a full-scale invasion.
Kate barrels in first. “We don’t have all day!”
She’s dressed in a yellow romper and her pink high tops. Malcolm, wearing a plain white t-shirt and jeans, follows with a helpless shrug.
“We have time,” Benny calls after Kate, shaking my hand as he steps inside. He reaches for Ellie, whose arms are piled with kid-friendly snacks.
“What is all that?” I groan.
“Insurance,” she says brightly. “No excuses for tonight ending early.”
“I tried to stop her,” Benny whispers with a small, apologetic smile.
I don’t even try to argue. I just wave them inside, clocking their matching navy-blue colors—his polo and her dress. When I go to close the door, another person standing on the porch startles me.
“Mackenzie?” I gasp. “I didn’t see you.”
“Sorry.” She smiles. “I thought I could help with the kids.”
“Yeah. Absolutely,” I say eagerly. This eases the brick of tension in my shoulders I didn’t realize was there. I trust Daniels, sure, but not enough to know we won’t get a hundred phone calls while we’re gone.
I gesture for her to follow me inside, and she finds her way to the kitchen.
She immediately helps Daniels get the boys settled with food.
He fumbles with Josie in his arms, and Mackenze repositions him into a more natural holding position.
Josie melts against him, cooing. They both laugh, already absorbed in their babysitting rhythm.
“They’re cute,” Kate whispers.
Malcolm scowls at the interaction, calculative fury growing in his eyes. “I don’t like it,” he grumbles, moving toward the kitchen.
Ellie catches his arm and yanks him back. “We don’t have time for this. We just survived the one-year-old’s party. We’re leaving.” She pushes as many of us toward the door as she can and shouts, “Emma, let’s go!”
“Coming!” Emma calls, and I hear her hopping into her heels at the bottom of the stairs.
Then I see her.
“We’ll meet you there,” Kate calls, but I don’t hear anything else.
My attention is entirely on Emma fluffing her hair and swiping on Chapstick.
Draped in black, the linen dress I bought hugs her like it was made for her.
Her chestnut hair falls in a straightened bob at her shoulders, loose instead of pinned back, brushing her face in the places she normally avoids.
Something about hair tickling her face is too overstimulating.
I’ve been sworn to never let her get bangs again because of this.
But lately, she’s let it fall. Her dress is held up by thin straps, revealing more skin than she’d usually let show.
“I’m a mom. I don’t need to show that much skin,” she would say.
But last week when I saw this dress, I knew she needed it.
She needed to see herself the way I see her.
A precious gem that needs to be shown to the world.
And here she is, wearing it without hesitation.
She looks amazing, brave, more like herself.
I bought a jacket too, though, just in case.
“What?” she asks, catching me staring.
“You’re stunning,” I tell her, unable to tear my eyes away.
I kneel to buckle the straps of her heels, brushing her calves, the warmth of her skin sparking heat straight through me. Her knees buckle slightly when I reach her thighs, but I force myself to stand.
“Are you sure we have to go?” I grumble, tugging her close.
“We’ll regret it if we don’t,” she whispers, hands threading through my hair. “But we can hurry back.”
“Promise?” I ask, tipping her chin up.
She kisses me, slow and certain, and I feel my world narrow to just us. She doesn’t stop kissing me all the way to the car. Her lips linger against the skin of my hand, my arm, even my neck while I’m driving.
“We’re going to crash,” I tell her, and she slowly retreats back to her seat, giving me the cutest little pout she can.
“Don’t do that to me,” I laugh, and she pouts harder. She’ll kiss me again anyway, so I change the subject to be safe. “Want to check in?”
The playfulness fades, and she shifts to face me, a serious expression curving her brows.
“Yes, let’s check in.” She reaches for my hand. “You go first.”
I twist my mouth, trying to find something new to say. We’ve checked in so much lately I realize there isn’t anything I haven’t shared with her. I lift her hand to my lips. “I don’t have anything.”
Instead of the incredulous look one would expect, her face glows, a cheeky smile splitting across it.
“What?” I ask.
“I don’t either,” she says eagerly.
“Really?” Now I’m the incredulous one. We’ve done good at sharing, yes, but we’re not perfect, and I know Emma will probably always be the person who holds back for everyone else’s sake. “Nothing at all?” I ask. “Because now is the time.”
“There’s nothing.” She beams at this, the truth that there’s nothing unsaid, nothing she’s harboring. Relief and joy radiate from her, the kind of weightless truth that can only come from being fully seen and heard. And I can confidently say I’ve been feeling it too.
“Good.” I kiss her knuckles, savoring the warmth.
We drive in blissful silence, pulling up to Wafflin’ shortly after the others. Glendale’s local diner, I finally remembered, stays open late on Fridays for the adults, but the thought of waffles I don’t have to share with the kids sounds like heaven.
The smell of syrup envelopes us as we slide into a booth with Ellie and Kate, Malcolm and Benny arguing over the jukebox in the corner. We order a stack of waffles to share, and an extra side of whipped cream as some kind of small rebellion against our adult responsibilities.
Before the food arrives, my phone rings. Liam.
“Go ahead,” Emma whispers in my ear, clocking the caller ID.
“I’ll be quick.” I kiss her on the forehead and rush outside to answer.
“Liam, what’s up? I told you—”
“Yeah, yeah I know,” he cuts me off. “Group date night, whatever. I was calling about your tests.”
“They’re already back?” I ask, stunned.
“Yeah,” he says, excited. “You passed, dude. You passed your boards.”
“Are you serious?” I rasp.
“Yes! I wouldn’t lie about this.” I can hear the smile in his voice, the pride he must feel, the satisfaction of helping a client, a best friend, regain enough memory and study enough to pass his medical boards without going back to school.
“When are you going back?” Liam asks, referring to work.
“I, um…” My gaze travels to our booth, my wife gazing back, waiting for me. Not in a rushed, impatient kind of waiting, but the longing kind that some never get. The kind that makes my heart race, my blood pump faster, everything inside me work harder to hold onto the image.
“I don’t know,” I admit. Because I don’t. I don’t know if or when I’ll go back, and for the first time, I feel okay with that.
“Well, take your time, Jones,” he says. “Belo confirmed your memories are intact, and she cleared you for practice.”
He sighs knowingly, aware that my silence means I’m not as eager to jump back into everything like I might’ve been before. “It will be there if and when you’re ready,” he adds.
“Thanks, man,” I say.
“I’m proud of you.”
“Don’t get all soft on me,” I tease.
“Shut up,” he laughs, and I hear the sniffle in his voice.
“Are you…crying?”
“I said shut up, dude.” He lets out a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”
“Me too,” I whisper, rubbing my neck and the top of my head, the tangible reminder that I am okay. I’m still here.
“Thank goodness you got them all back, huh?” Liam says, referring to my memories.
My eyes well up as I watch Emma do a happy dance when the waffles arrive.
Her dazzling green eyes stay on me as she tears off a piece and slowly, teasingly, shoves it in her mouth.
She licks her fingers dramatically, letting me know I better hurry or I get nothing.
Ellie throws a napkin at her, and the entire table laughs as they all wave me back inside.
“I think I would’ve been okay,” I tell him, fully believing it.
We end the call, and I make it back to the table to find one untouched waffle awaiting me. I arch a surprised brow at Emma, and her endearing shrug sends a flutter of affection through me.
“What’s mine is yours.” She smiles, handing me a fork.
“And mine, yours,” I tell her, cutting off a piece and holding it out for her.
She smirks, taking the bite without question.
I laugh, brushing whipped cream from her lips.
Her mouth slackens around my thumb, and I watch her swallow.
I can practically taste the syrup on her tongue as she lets out a slow breath.
“So…” Ellie says, already rolling her eyes. “What did Liam want?”
“Was it your test?” Benny asks.
They all look at me, waiting for the big news, but Emma shifts closer. This night isn’t about that.
“He was just checking in,” I say, my gaze flicking to Emma, a quiet smile pulling at her lips, knowing I’m lying but just as grateful.
After our second round of waffles, Malcolm checks his watch and asks, “We have an hour. Any ideas?”
Everyone shrugs, but I turn to Emma, my eyes holding hers.
“What about karaoke?”