“It’s okay to feel sad, Willa. It’s okay to feel overwhelmed. It’s definitely okay to need a couple of days alone to digest. But you can overthink this too. You can turn it inside out until it looks like something different than what it is.”
I hold my hands over my face, feeling tears leak out against them. “What is it? I don’t even know.”
Summer rubs my back because she is some sort of angel sent to planet Earth. A better person than the vast majority of us. “I don’t know what it is. But from where I’m sitting, it’s two smart loving adults who are navigating a curve ball in the best way they know how.”
A sob racks my body.
“It’s two people who were both a little lost until they ended up on the same path and walked together for a while.”
I drop my head, openly crying now. I think Summer is trying to make me weep.
“It’s two people who are happier in each other’s company than they are alone.” Now I can hear the tears in her voice too. “Better together than they are apart.”
I turn to hug her now, wondering if I can blame the uncontrollable way I’m crying on my hormones.
“Just don’t make him wait too long, Wils,” she whispers against my ear. “He is heartbroken without you.”
The way she emphasizes heartbroken is my undoing. I soak the shoulder of her shirt, because the truth of the matter is I thought I needed space . . .
But I’m heartbroken without him too.
34
Cade
Summer: Hi! Just messaging to see if you’d like to come for dinner?
Harvey: Hi, son. Thinking I could take Luke off your hands for the day.
Rhett: My wife messaged you about dinner. You haven’t answered. Don’t be rude to her or I’ll drive over and kick your ass.
Jasper: Want free tickets to the game tonight? Would love to see you and Luke.
Violet: I was told to message you and see if you’d respond. You’re too old to sulk, Cade. Knock it off.
All I wanted from the main house was the bags of cement from the shed. All I need is to get lost in some physical labor. Alone. Away from pitying looks and overbearing family.
But here I am, watching Luke shout “hello” down the well. It should make me smile, but smiling feels hard today.
Smiling without Willa around feels impossible.
“Dad. Do you think there could be someone down there?”
Okay. Creepy. “No pal. Just a bunch of coins.”
His head cants to the side curiously. “Coins?”
I sigh heavily, dropping the bags on either side of myself as I trudge toward the well. “Yeah. My mom and I used to toss coins down there and make wishes.” I peer down into the black hole, feeling kindred with it somehow. Empty. Echoey.
“Grandma?” Luke knows all about his grandma Isabelle, even though he never got to meet her.
“Yeah. She named this ranch after the well. When they bought the land Grandpa told her she could name it whatever she wanted.”
“What would you wish for?” He peeks in again, and I put a hand on his shoulder. Watching him lean over the edge gives me full-blown anxiety.
I scrub at my beard with the opposite hand, racking my brain. I can’t remember. That part of my life feels like a lifetime ago. Like another life altogether. “Probably candy.”
Luke’s head bobs in approval. “Smart. Did your wishes come true?”
My lips quirk at that. He never fails to lift my spirits. Knowing my mom, I’m sure a bunch of our wishes did come true. “Usually.”
“Do you have any coins? I want to make a wish.”
Weight lands in my stomach and my lungs constrict. Such a simple request, and yet it feels intensely meaningful. I’m doing with my little boy what my mom once did with me.
I pull my wallet out wordlessly, unzipping the small coin pouch.
“Does it matter what kind of coin?”
“No, bud.” I press a silver coin into his hand but pause as I’m about to put the leather wallet away. With a little shake of my head, I take one more coin out.
One for myself.
“Okay,” I start, swallowing the uncharacteristic thickness in my throat. “On three. Close your eyes.”
Luke’s eyes clamp shut, and a hint of steel flashes on his face. He’s focusing very hard. Taking this very seriously.
I ruffle his hair once, reminding me of silky, coppery strands as I do, and then I close my eyes. “One . . . two . . . three . . .”
The sound of our coins plunking into the water below mingles with the sound of wind chimes on the back porch.