揑抦 sorry.?She fans her face, emotional and trying to contain it. 揝he抯 sleeping,?she adds in a whisper. 揑 just厰 Her hands go to her round belly. 揑 got to thinking about how she might not live long enough to meet the baby and how this baby won抰 know her and I just ?it抯 not fair and I抦 angry.?
I pull my older sister into my arms, letting her cry and get this off her chest. I can抰 imagine dealing with the emotions of this on top of being pregnant.
揅ry as long as you need.?I hold her even tighter.
揌ow are you keeping it together so well??
揟rust me, I抦 not. I have my moments too.?
揕ife抯 so unfair and she抯 been failed so many times.?She pulls away from me, grabbing a paper towel to dab at her eyes. 揢gh,?she groans, motioning to her smeared mascara. 揑抦 a mess.?Sniffling, she leans against the counter for support. 揑 just don抰 know how to live life without her. She抯 our mom. What am I going to do when I can抰 pick up the phone and call her? Ask her for advice or what ingredient I抦 forgetting in the cupcakes I抦 making??
I hold her arms gently in my hands, making sure to look her in the eyes. 揧ou抣l feel sad. You might cry a little bit. And then you抣l call me, and we can cry together. And I抣l always tell you what ingredient you抮e missing.?
She says no more, just yanks me back into a hug, the swell of her belly in our way. 揚lease, move back here. I don抰 want you to leave again.?
Rubbing my hand against her back, I bite my lip. 揑抦 thinking about it.?
揥hat??She jerks back in surprise. 揂re you serious??
I nod. 揘ow that I抳e been back here ?I feel different about staying. But nothing is decided,?I warn her, not wanting to get her hopes up.
揥ell,?she smiles despite the tears still lingering in her eyes, 搚ou have to do whatever feels right, but I hope you stay.?
CHAPTER 18
THAYER
Parking my truck, I grab my thermos of hot chocolate, my lunch cooler, and head into the cemetery. It抯 too hot out to enjoy the hot chocolate, but it抯 sort of become my tradition when I come here.
I navigate my way through the gravestones. I抦 pretty sure I could get to my son抯 grave blindfolded by this point. I come by once a week, sometimes more if I find myself really needing to talk to him.
I used to think that people who came to cemeteries to speak with their loved ones were crazy. It抯 all just a bunch of grass and stone梚t抯 a place where Forrest was never alive梑ut I still like coming here. It抯 peaceful and I feel closer to him.
My eyes narrow when I approach his marker. There抯 a single purple flower laid above his name. Cocking my head to the side, I look around in search for whoever left it. Not that it抯 much mystery. Krista doesn抰 find the same comfort here that I do, so she doesn抰 visit. Which means Salem most likely left this. Recently too since the wind hasn抰 blown it away.
I don抰 know what makes me do it, but I pluck the flower off and put it in my lunch box. The urge to keep it is stupid, but I can抰 help it. It抯 tangible proof of her heart, of how even after all this time she still cares about my son, and maybe me too.
She wouldn抰 have kissed you back like that if she didn抰 still have feelings for you.
Getting comfortable on the grass, I unwrap my sloppily made peanut butter and jelly.
揌ow are you doing, kid??I chomp into my sandwich. 揑 wish I could hear your voice梩hat you could tell me what it抯 like wherever you are. I want to know you抮e okay and taken care of. That抯 one of the hardest parts, you know??I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. 揥hen you抮e a parent you just want to know your kid is being treated right and safe, but I have no way of knowing that now with you.?Grabbing my thermos, I pour a little into the lid. 揌ere you go, kid. Enjoy.?I tip the canteen back and take my own sip.
揑抳e played that day over and over in my head so many times, trying to figure out every little thing I could抳e changed that would抳e resulted in a different outcome, but I still don抰 know if it would抳e made any difference. Even if you weren抰 mad at me, you might still have ended up in that pool.?Sighing, I take a deep breath. 揑 don抰 know what抯 worse梩hinking I could抳e changed something and you抎 still be alive, or thinking this was some cruel twist of fate and I couldn抰 do anything about it anyway.?
I抦 rambling now, it抯 usually what happens to me when I抦 here. I word vomit my thoughts at him and Forrest, of course, says nothing.
揑 miss you. So much. You are the best seven years of my thirty-seven years of existence on this planet. You made me a dad. I thought for a while that I stopped being one when you died, but I realize now you don抰 stop being a parent just because your child is gone. No matter what, I抣l always be your dad, Forrest, and when I meet you on the other side I can抰 wait to feel your arms around me again.?
While I finish my lunch, I fill him in on mundane things in my life條ike what抯 going on at work, the latest movie I watched that reminded me of him梐ll of the silly day to day things he misses out on.
I have to get back to work, so I pack my trash away, and place my hand over his name.
揑 love you, kid.?
Standing up, I brush the dirt and grass from my shorts.
I have to get back to work, because no matter what, life keeps going.
CHAPTER 19
SALEM
The next night after helping my mom bathe梥he sits on a shower chair and I take care of the rest梐nd into bed, I slip out the side door for some fresh air, discovering another bouquet of peonies.
I pick them up, inspecting the petals. Each one is so delicate and perfect.
There抯 no note this time. When I finally read the one he included before, it said;
For my sunshine.
桾
Setting them back down, I walk to the end of the driveway and peek at Thayer抯 house. The sun is beginning to set and I see him sitting on the front porch swing that I helped him put up a lifetime ago.
Hesitating for a moment or two, I finally make my way up his front walk onto the porch.
He saw me approaching and his eyes study me as I stand in front of him. He pushes his feet, the swing swaying lightly.
揌i,?I say softly, hesitant to approach.
The tiniest of smiles dances across his lips. 揌i. Do you want to join me??
I nod and he scoots over so there抯 enough room on his left side for me to sit with him.
The blue and white stripped cushion is soft beneath my butt. I have to fight my body抯 natural desire to want to curl into him. It抯 like my body has forgotten all the time that has passed and that he抯 not mine to touch freely anymore.
He arches a brow, noticing the way I incline away from him. 揑抦 not contagious. You can touch me.?
I ignore his comment. 揧ou don抰 have to bring me flowers. But thank you. They抮e beautiful.?
揑抦 glad you like them. They抮e all for you anyway.?
My brows narrow in confusion, not quite sure what he means by that comment. If he got me flowers and left them, then of course they are for me, but I feel like there抯 a deeper meaning I抦 not catching onto.
揑 have to ask you something.?
揙kay??He sounds unsure.
揥hy didn抰 you call me??
A heavy sigh rattles his chest. He looks away from me, at the setting sun that paints the sky in a watercolor of pinks, purples, and oranges.
揊or a while, I convinced myself that I抎 accomplished what I wanted. I pushed you away to live a life without me and it would be weak to break the promise I made to myself to give you a chance to grow on your own.?He rubs his jaw, looking pained. 揃y the time I realized what an idiot I抎 been, it was too late.?