Rose
Ben is still sleeping when I slip back into his room.
His hand is tucked under a pillow, and his small body takes up more space on the bed than should be possible. But he has always been a sprawler. It’s warm in here, even with a window I pushed open to air out before I started unpacking, so I don’t cover him.
I should wake him soon for lunch, or there’s a risk he’ll sleep so long that he’ll be up all night. But today was full of excitement, and he needs the rest.
Pushing the door closed behind me, I take off my sneakers and climb into bed beside him. And I just watch him, wanting to stroke his soft cheek but scared I’ll wake him if I do. I take in his sleeping face, marveling that I’m lucky enough to have him in my life.
He looks more like Simon than me, but Simon warned me that his family’s genes are strong.
“Hayes genes come with boxing gloves ready to fight,” he said with a grin soon after I told him I was pregnant. “He’ll have dark hair, green eyes, and freckles everywhere. Just wait.”
My smile is bittersweet.
We should have been on our way cross-country, visiting sights guaranteed to put a smile on my son’s face, but before that, I spent years dreaming about those same places with Simon.
I thought the road trip would kick-start my will to keep going after losing the love of my life.
Yet now we’re in a town where my son is being happily surprised with all his favorite things, and I’m running into my scent match, a man I couldn’t walk away from, even if I wanted to.
A soft hum draws my gaze to the nightstand where I set my cell phone before crawling into bed with Ben. I pick it up, smiling as I read the text message.
Sam
How’s my fave nephew?
Sam is Simon’s younger brother, and we visited him in upstate New York before we started our road trip. It was a short but sweet visit, and saying goodbye was just as emotional as saying hello. Ben loves his uncle, and his uncle loves him back just as hard.
I snap a picture of Ben and send it to him, typing:
Me
Napping. And for reference, you only have the one.
Sam
Never let a Hayes nap for too long. It’s like giving gremlins water. He will be crawling over your face all night.
I muffle my laughter.
Me
He needed the rest. He’s had an exciting day.
He’s not the only one.
Between Ben running off on his own and scaring me shitless, then moving into this new house, and all the excitement of meeting new people and playing with Win, it was a lot for him after we’d spent the last several days in the car driving from New York. It was a lot for me too.
Sam
Oh?
It’s easy to imagine him sitting up with a frown.
He’s twenty-five, two years younger than Simon and me, and is the playful and loving brother that I wish I had growing up as an only child. My mom met my dads when she was thirty-five. They had me, and even though they wanted more kids, it didn’t happen.
Me
We’re fine. No need to drop everything and come running.
Sam
I’m living in my parents’ basement. I’d come running if you dropped a tissue. Please save me.
I grin at his dry, self-deprecating sense of humor.
Sam is an insanely talented carpenter. After graduating from college, he worked for a big luxury furniture manufacturer in New York, but the long hours and lack of creative freedom burned him out. He gave up his apartment and moved back in with his parents.
We’ve all suggested he start his own business—me, Simon, his parents, my parents, his friends. Despite working at a hardware store, which he hates, and taking on custom jobs, which he loves, he always finds a reason it’s a bad idea.
Me
No tissues have been dropped. And you have savings. Move out.
Sam
And do my own laundry?
I snort. At twenty-five, he should absolutely be doing his own laundry.
Me
You’re pathetic.
Sam
Yup. How’s your stomach bug?
I hesitate for the first time since we started texting.
Back in upstate New York, my body started giving me all the hallmarks of being pregnant, but all those little clues had completely passed me by.
I wasn’t looking to hug the nearest toilet like I am now, but I was a little hot, then moody, and my food tasted off.
Sam thought it was mild food poisoning, and I should drink plenty of water to flush it out of my system.
With the benefit of hindsight, I was as blind as I was stupid not to put two and two together.
Me
A little better.
I wince as I lie.
Sam
If you’re sick, I can fly out and take over driving.
I smile at his offer and at the fact that he’s not telling me to end the road trip early. It’s a journey he knew I’d always planned to take with Simon, and when Ben came along, it just never happened. Correction, we never made the time to, and then it was too late.
Me
We’re good. We’re in Rios, a small town in Iowa. Ben will never forgive me if I make him leave before he gets to climb on a fire truck. A firefighter offered.
Sam
Firefighter, huh?
Me
I can see your dirty smile from here. Stop. We just got talking in a diner.
Sam
Like in one of those Hallmark movies…
Me
There is NO romance happening, Sam.
But that isn’t true, and I’m relieved this conversation is happening by text rather than face-to-face or on FaceTime. There’d be no hiding my red cheeks, and he’d know for sure that something was up.
Sam
You’re allowed to have fun, you know?
Me
It’s been six weeks. My focus is on Ben, not on my love life.
Everyone keeps telling me to listen to my feelings, that it’s okay to start living again and move on.
But that doesn’t chase away the guilt of loving so deeply that a part of me keeps whispering that maybe I didn’t love Simon as much as I did if I’m already thinking about moving on six weeks after he died. As if I’m betraying him.
Feeling guilty and scared that Sam might want to know more about what I’m doing in Rios, I glance at Ben, who’s still sleeping, and text back.
Me
Have to go. Ben woke up.
Sam
Give him a kiss from Uncle Sam.
Me
Will do.
Sam
Love you, sis.
Tears prick my eyes.
He’s made it a point to call me sis more. As if he wants me to know that Simon might be gone, but the sister he gained is still family, and he isn’t going anywhere.
Me
Love you too. And seriously, move out of your parents’ basement. Start your own business.
Sam
One day.
I nearly tell him that one day might not come like this epic road trip Simon and I spent years talking about doing, but never did. That he might miss his chance to do something he’s dreamed of since he was a kid but is so terrified he’ll fail that he doesn’t want to risk doing it at all.
Time or death or some other cruel fate might come along and snatch away the opportunity to do the thing you love.
Don’t wait. That’s what I want to tell him, but I don’t because I’d be a hypocrite. I’m in my son's room, hiding from my scent match and the feelings I’m too afraid I’ll act on.