How excited Sawyer and Avery were that they had a huge cat living in the barn. The awe on their faces when they saw Bruce for the very first time, and the many laughs they’ve given me.
I’m going to miss them like hell, but even worse, I know they’ll miss me.
Remembering an art project from high school, I leave the barn and go to the kitchen. There, I mix together salt, flour, and water into a thick dough and carry it back outside to the barn.
After forming two large heart shapes from the dough, I carefully step into the pen.
“Hey, Brucey,” I say, watching closely as I walk toward him. “Big day coming up, so you’re smart to rest up. I know I’m breaking every rule in the zoologist’s handbook by doing this, but...I need your help. Avery and Sawyer need a goodbye present before we leave. Okay?”
He opens his eyes and blinks at me curiously, and for a second I hesitate.
As comfortable as I am around him, I respect the fact that he’s a colossal animal with untamable instincts. The tiger is Mother Nature’s sledgehammer wrapped in a fashion mogul’s dream.
He’s lying near the trailer, front paw stretched out in front of him, making this adorable snorty sound as I approach. His huge head lolls back, bored by my presence.
“Nice and easy. I’m just going to borrow a paw and press it into this clay...”
He lets out one of his low purring growls, as if to say, make it snappy. Don’t keep me here all day
Stepping closer, I kneel down, nervous in my own right, but smiling so he won’t pick up on my jitters.
Slowly, I reach out and touch one of his paws.
“Obviously we’ll use your good paw, all right? Not the one that’s been healing.”
He lays his head back down with a groan.
“So generous, big dude.” I slide one of the heart-shaped clumps of dough under his paw and press down for a few seconds, leaving an impression. Then I repeat it with the second one, talking to him softly the entire time, murmuring little things about how much he’ll love his new home at Let’s Roar.
I’m a blubbering mess by the end of it.
Careful not to disturb the imprints, I stand, wipe my tears, and thank him before leaving the barn again. In the house, I use a toothpick to carve a huge B and the date on the back of the dough, and then put both prints in the oven to harden.
Grady is nowhere in sight, and that’s a good thing.
So I take a shower, pack my bags, and simply kill time stress-cleaning the kitchen and organizing odds and ends until the gifts are fully baked.
I pull them out of the oven when the timer goes off and put them in my room only a minute before the front door opens and the girls burst in, full of loud giggles and rodeo stories.
I can’t help but smile hearing about Uncle Hank getting chucked off a mechanical bull in a contest, and then Granny Coffey beating every man, woman, and child for the prize.
Grady comes upstairs from the basement and barely looks at me as he gestures for Hank to follow him outside.
The girls continue chattering about the rodeo as I help them settle down for bed.
It’s not until she’s tucked into her sheets that Sawyer yawns and asks, “Hey, is Dad still outside talking to Uncle Hank?”
I pause, trying not to let my inner sad face slip out.
“I guess so, but I’m sure he’ll be up to say good night as soon as Hank leaves.”
“Okay! ’Night, Willow.”
My eyes sting, knowing this will be the last time I tuck them in. I lean down and kiss her forehead. “’Night, Sawyer.”
I repeat the same heart-wrenching goodbye they aren’t even aware of in Avery’s room. After kissing her on the forehead, I leave and go back down to my room.
I get busy writing out notes to go with the paw print plaques.
When I finally crash, sleep doesn’t come easily.
I’m ping-ponged between sweet dreams that wake me up with a burning need, and nightmares that leave me trapped with my heart pounding and tears in my eyes.
I’m glad when morning arrives, even if it comes with a hangover-like headache.
Ugh.
I’ve overslept, too. It’s past seven o’clock. I take a quick shower and head out to see something I haven’t witnessed before.
The girls, balking at Grady telling them they need to stay with Joyce for a few days.
He refuses to tell them the real reason—because I’m leaving and taking Bruce with me.
The tension between the three of them rises like hot steam in the room.
Unable to take it, I step up behind the girls and lay a hand on each of their shoulders.
“Hey, ladies, your dad isn’t trying to be mean,” I say softly. “He just needs some time to take care of a few things with me and we’ll be able to do that faster when he doesn’t have to worry about you two.”
“But you’re here, Willow, so why do we have to leave?” Avery asks with a pout.
“Because he might need my help,” I say.
“This is about Bruce, isn’t it? You’re taking him somewhere!” Sawyer glares at Grady, folding her small arms.
They’re too smart.
They know when they’re being lied to.
My heart cracks and I wish I hadn’t said anything.
Grady looks at me then, shaking his head.
“Sawyer’s right. This is about Bruce,” he begins, his brown eyes glued to mine. “He’s going to a big cat sanctuary and it’ll be easier if you aren’t here in case anything happens while he’s being loaded. We can’t keep him here forever and you two are old enough to know it.”
“You...you weren’t even going to let us say goodbye, Daddy?” Avery asks, tears brimming in her eyes.
“That’s not fair, Dad!” Sawyer snaps. “Not fair at all.”
Grady’s face might as well be made of stone.
There’s nothing soft about it when he looks at them.
“There isn’t time. We need to get moving in the next hour or two and sort this out. It’s for his own good and sometimes...hell. Life just isn’t fair, girls,” he says, a pain in his voice he can’t hide.
Now it’s my turn to tear up. I whirl around, wiping at my eyes with my sleeve.
I was going to leave the plaques and notes for them to find in their rooms, but suddenly I’m changing my mind.
“Hang on, guys. I have something for you. I’ll be right back.”
Leaving the letters I’d written to both of them in my room, because those are my final farewell, I carry the two plaques back into the kitchen.
“Here you go. I made these for both of you last night,” I whisper, laying them out on the table.
They’re terribly simple, just bone-white, heart-shaped pieces of homemade clay with Bruce’s print embedded in the center.
But the way the girls ooh and ahhh, anyone would think I just handed them the crown jewels.
“Willow, thank you. Thank you! This is the most precious thing ever,” Avery gushes, her tears turning to diamond trails rolling down her cheeks.
“Glad you like it, munchkin. I left them white so you can paint them if you want. Just be very careful. You could even have your dad help shellac them and plant them outside. Right by the tiger lilies we rescued.”
“I might someday,” Sawyer says with a wavering smile. “I’m gonna keep it beside my bed for now, so I can think about him and you every night.”