Chapter 30
I stared at the curtains fluttering in the breeze, trying to hold myself together when Daisy couldn’t.
All summer I’d watched her hold Junie up with one hand and herself with the other.
She laughed, she danced, she planned the carnival, she hammered boards into Violet’s porch, moving through each day like if she just kept busy enough, grief couldn’t catch her.
But yesterday it tackled her from behind.
The moment she saw the urn, her legs gave out, and I’d never felt so useless. I caught her before she hit the tile, but I couldn’t catch the sound she made—like something inside her ribs snapped clean in two.
I carried her out past the hushed sympathy and too-sweet florals, her whole body shaking so hard I felt it in my teeth.
With each ragged breath, my heart broke.
The night swallowed her afterward. Hours of sobs that sounded like pain clawing its way out. I held her through it, arms locked around her, whispering useless things into her hair until she finally sagged against me.
By dawn, the shadows under her eyes looked bruised. Blonde hair fanned wild over my pillow, pieces stuck to her cheek. She looked like grief had scraped her clean and left a shell of her behind.
I wanted to keep her right there forever.
Pull the quilt over both of us, lock the door, tell the world to go to hell.
Instead Cluck Norris screamed bloody murder outside the window like a feathered alarm clock, reminding me the animals needed feeding, the day needed living, and the world kept moving, even when it shouldn’t.
I pulled her tighter against my chest anyway, breathed her in, and let myself drift into an uneasy half-sleep for as long as I could.
Gravel crunched a while later, and I cracked one eye open to see Beckett’s truck through the blinds.
Junie’s voice floated in through the open windows, bright and unstoppable. “DAD! You’ll never guess what Jace did!”
I eased my arm out from under Daisy’s neck. She made a small, lost sound—half protest, half dream—and I froze, heart in my throat. When she didn’t wake, I stood there like an idiot, just staring.
This was the part no one warned you about—how loving someone meant their pain hit you harder than your own, how it split you open and left you broken right beside them.
But I couldn’t break, not when they needed me.
I tiptoed across the dark room, Rowdy’s eyes following me as I moved to the dresser and pulled out a clean tee, replacing my tear-stained one. The urn still sat on the nightstand like a grenade with the pin pulled, and I looked back at Daisy still asleep in my bed.
Boots stomped on the front porch, so I grabbed the urn and put it on the dresser across the room instead. Still there, but not the first thing Daisy would see when she woke up either.
“Stay,” I said to Rowdy, whose dark tail thumped twice on the bed, understanding the assignment.
I quietly pulled the door closed, then went down the hall.
Junie exploded through the front door, cheeks sun-pink, cargo pants covered in marsh mud, rain boots halfway kicked off already.
“Oh my gosh, Dad, camping was so fun. We rented canoes and Jace got us stuck on the wrong side of the lake for an hour.”
“I didn’t get stuck,” Jace hollered from the porch. “You said you wanted to be an explorer, so we were checking out uncharted shores. There’s a difference.”
Beckett snorted, ruffling Junie’s tangled ponytail as he stepped inside with a duffel over one shoulder. “Took me and a rope to tow Captain Explorer back.”
Emmy followed, sunglasses pushed up into her dark hair, iced coffee in each hand as she stood in the open front doorway. “Don’t worry. I got it on video.”
Junie spun toward the hallway. “Where’s Dizzy? Is she up? I have to tell her about the chipmunk that stole my marshmallow!”
I crouched down to her level, brushing dirt off her cargo pants in the foyer. “She’s here, but she had a rough night. Let her rest a little more, okay? You can tell her all about camping when she wakes up.”
Junie’s face fell just enough to twist something in my chest, but she nodded. “Pancakes?”
“You go get the ingredients ready and I’ll be right there.”
She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, squeezing tight. “Okay, Dad.”
Emmy’s eyes flicked to mine over Junie’s head, sharp as ever. Once Junie darted toward the kitchen, she asked quietly, “Is she okay?”
I stood back up and glanced down the hall toward my closed door, jaw working. “No,” I said, voice rough. “We went to the funeral home to get Violet’s ashes, and it finally hit her last night.”
“Shit,” Beckett murmured.
Emmy’s mouth pressed into a sad line, tears brimming in her eyes. “Anything we can do?”
I was ready to tell her no—that this was one of those storms we just had to weather—when a contractor’s truck pulled up in front of Violet’s house.
Fresh cedar siding stacked in the bed, four guys in tool belts hopping out like this was just another day.
Luke hopped out of his truck next to them, already getting his crew into motion.
Something sharp twisted low in my gut.
I looked at my sister, then Beckett and Jace.
“Yeah,” I said. “Round up everybody. Neighbors, teammates, the whole damn town if they’ll come. We’re finishing Vi’s house this week. All hands on deck, Linwood style.”
I couldn’t fix Daisy’s heart.
Couldn’t bring her sister back.
Couldn’t carry this grief for her.
But I could finish the one thing Violet left undone.
Two hours later Violet’s house looked like a home-improvement flash mob had invaded.
Shannon stood in the middle of the living room in paint-splattered jeans, hair in a messy knot, wielding a paint roller like a sword.
“Listen up, idiots!” she bellowed. “We are turning this house into a home today, so follow my color-coded system or I swear on my signed Metallica shirt I will end you.”
Beckett nudged Jace. “Eyes down, kid. She can smell fear.”
Jace gulped. “I’m not—oh shit, she’s looking right at me.”
“Mop Top and Has-Been”—Shannon pointed at Beckett and Jace—“you’re painting the living room walls. If I see a drip I will make you start over.”
Jace lifted the lid off the can, then frowned. “This is pink.”
“It’s coral. Happiness in pigment form,” Shannon snapped, then made a face like she was disgusted by the idea. “Roll it or perish.”
Luke was already on a ladder in the kitchen, swapping out the ugly boob lights for matte-black pendants. “Hey, Ty! Can you send a runner to the store for me? We need new lightbulbs pretty much everywhere.”
I grabbed my phone to text Delgado who was already on his way to the hardware store for more rollers. “On it.”
Stevie swept in with an armload of shopping bags. “You said decor, and I said de-MORE! Throw pillows, linens, dishes, and three different duvet vibes because we need choices.”
Emmy stared. “Stevie. Why are there fourteen pillows?”
“Fifteen,” Stevie corrected. “Pillows make me happy, and this house needs happy.”
Mason wandered in holding a paintbrush like it might bite him. “Shan, you sure I can’t help Tate with the wallpaper? Seems like it might be a two-person—”
“Nope,” Tate and Shannon said in unison.
Shannon pointed her roller at the baseboards. “Tape it off for your brother, or I’ll make you clean grout with a toothbrush instead.”
Mason sighed, then sat on the floor with a roll of blue tape.
I stood near the front door, overseeing everything that was happening all at once, and keeping an eye on the kids outside. Miles and Molly were already racing toward the barn with Stevie’s kids, but Junie lingered on the porch, not quite focused on anything.
I crouched beside her, tucking a stray hair behind her ear. “Hey, bug. You okay?”
She twisted her fingers together. “Mom wanted everything to be floral, like our names. All the upstairs rooms are supposed to be like a hotel so she could rent them and we’d never have to move again.” Her chin wobbled. “But I… Can I stay outside?”
I pulled her into my chest, hating her sadness just as much as Daisy’s. “Of course you can stay outside. You don’t have to do anything that hurts today. And hey—thank you for telling me about the florals. We’ll make it sunshine, exactly like she wanted.”
She nodded, eyes glassy, then ran after the others.
Molly looked up as Junie joined them, eyes on me. Luckily, she seemed to understand the hard set of my jaw and scooped up Junie into a piggy back ride, insisting they go check on Uno.
Once I heard her peal of laughter, I went back inside.
Everything was a flurry of motion and color, the whole house transforming before my eyes.
I handed Luke another fixture, smiled when Beckett painted a coral stripe down Jace’s back “by accident,” even helped Shannon carry new headboards upstairs.
But every stroke of paint on the walls, every floral pillow fluffed, every new light that flicked on and made the place glow warmer—every single thing sharpened the knife in my gut.
This house was becoming perfect.
Exactly what Violet dreamed.
Exactly the kind of place that would sell in a heartbeat for stupid money.
Enough for Daisy to pack Junie into whatever car she wanted, point it toward Chicago or Portland or any city big enough to swallow the memories, and never have to look back.
Enough for her to outrun the grief.
Enough for her to outrun me.
Beckett bumped my shoulder as we unloaded a new porch swing from his truck. “You’re brooding so loud I can hear it over the chatter, buddy.”
I shook my head. “Just thinking about how we’re going to anchor this into the ceiling.”
“Bullshit.” He set his end down and wiped sweat off his forehead. “Talk to me.”
I glanced around at the people around me, each one essential to my life in a way I hadn’t quite named before, but none moreso than the little girl climbing a tree in the yard and the woman asleep in my bed.
I swallowed, but my voice still sounded like gravel as I said, “She could list this place tomorrow. One signature and they’re gone.”
Beckett put his hands on his hips and let out a deep sigh. “I’ve thought of that too.”
I stared through the open front door at the fresh white trim, the coral walls, the wildflower curtains Stevie was hanging. It was beautiful, and one-of-a-kind, just like Daisy.
“What if she sees this finished and it hurts too much? What if this is her sign to leave?”
Beckett clapped a hand on my shoulder and squeezed. “Or she looks at the guy who made it happen and decides it’s her sign to stay.”
I didn’t answer.
Couldn’t.
Because all I could see was the most beautiful exit ramp imaginable.
And if she took it, she’d would take my whole damn heart with her.