Chapter Thirty-Six
LINCOLN
Nine Months Later
“Hey, baby.”
I get to my knees on the ground in front of the headstone and switch out the old dahlias for the new ones. Smiling at the seashell design on the slab of stone, I trace my finger over Molly’s name. Between her name and the two dates are the words “My Girl.” She loved when I called her that so much that I knew I had to include it on her headstone. It’s exactly what she was, and what she will always be.
Sliding around to the side of the headstone, I lean back against it and set the journal on my lap. Closing my eyes, I breathe in the fresh air.
“The kids are doing good.” I always start with telling Molly about the kids because I know that’s the first thing she’d ask.
“Gray aced his final math test he was so worried about last week. You should have seen the prideful look on his face when he told me. We celebrated by going out for pizza, and he insisted Andrea come along since she tutored him. The two have grown even closer over the last few months. We both know Gray’s had a crush on her for a while.” A secret grin creeps across my face. “They kinda remind me of us and how attached we were at the hip as kids.”
I brush away a few dried leaves from the ground, remembering those special days. If I’d had my way back then, I would have been with Molly every second of every day. I always dreaded going home at night. That’s why I often found myself sneaking in her window.
“I wish you could see Gemma. She’s growing in leaps and bounds. I’m going to have a hard time keeping the boys away. She came to me a couple of days ago and told me about a boy in her class picking on her. I told her the same thing I told you that first day. Boys pick on girls they think are pretty.” I chuckle. “Yeah, she gave me the same look you gave me, like I was crazy. She’ll see in a few years, though. I’m sure that boy will be chasing her all over the place, begging for even a second of her time.” My eyes narrow, not liking that thought. “I think I should buy a gun when that happens.”
I’m only half joking. I am not looking forward to Gemma’s dating years. Maybe I can lock her in her room until she’s twenty-one, or better yet, twenty-five.
“Mr. Fischer was very pleased with the pieces I handed over last week.” I drop my chin to my chest and stare down at the journal. “It’s been good working with my hands again. I didn’t realize how much I missed it until I started again.”
It took me five months to find the energy and motivation to start working on my art again. Mr. Fischer, as promised, was waiting for my phone call. He not only had work lined up for projects he wanted, but a couple of his associates wanted to work with me too.
“Gray’s been helping me more and more. You’d be amazed at the talent and passion he’s showing.” I look up and peer around the quiet graveyard. There’s a slight breeze that ruffles through the leaves, and birds chirp as they fly overhead. “I don’t know, Molly. It looks like he might be truly interested in doing something with art for his future. I have to admit, I’d love if he followed in my footsteps and took over the business one day.”
I stretch my legs out in front of me.
“Dad’s been coming over to help some too. I know part of it is Mom being sneaky and sending him over to check on me, but I think he enjoys working with his hands again too. He’s always said he wishes he didn’t retire so early.”
I draw in a long breath and let it out slowly.
“I’m doing okay. I miss you like hell, and some days are worse than others, but I’m pushing through. It’s the nights that are the hardest. I miss holding you in my arms. I miss hearing you tell me you love me before we drift off to sleep. I miss waking up to your scent and your hair getting stuck in my beard. It still doesn’t feel right falling asleep without you there. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that. But I’m taking it one day at a time.”
I sit for a few minutes in silence, enjoying sitting with my girl.
Picking up the journal, I flip it open to the entry I stopped at last week. It took me three months before I gathered the courage to open one of Molly’s journals, and even then, I couldn’t bring myself to read it. I was only able to run my fingers over the pages, knowing those very pages were something Molly herself touched. It wasn’t until last month I came up with the idea to bring them to Molly’s grave and read one entry to her on my weekly visits.
“Last week we stopped off where I punched Jensen for picking on you again. Didn’t I tell you when we first met, I wouldn’t let them hurt you anymore? No one messes with my girl.” I chuckle.
“Let’s see what else was in that beautiful mind of yours.”
I settle in and begin reading aloud.
Dear Linc,
It makes me smile every time I see the name she always addresses the journal entries to.
Momma and Daddy took me and Lincoln to the beach today. We had so much fun building sandcastles and playing in the water. Daddy even let me and Lincoln bury him in the sand. Only his head was poking out. It was so funny when he sprang out of the sand like a monster and chased us around.
Momma brought some sandwiches for us to eat. It was my favorite, strawberry jelly and peanut butter. I dropped mine in the sand, but Lincoln broke his in half and gave me part of his. I don’t know if he did it on purpose, but he gave me the bigger piece.
Lincoln and I found some really pretty seashells. He says he’s going to make me something out of one of them. I can’t wait to see it.
I’m so glad Lincoln moved here. Just like he said, he’s my best friend. I hope he’ll always be my best friend.
His parents are really nice too. They let me and Lincoln play all of the time. I always hate when it’s time to go home though. I wish we could live together so I wouldn’t ever have to leave him.
I smile as I close the journal. I remember that day on the beach. It was only a few months after we met and the first time we went to the beach together. I was surprised Mom let me go without her or Dad there. Mom was a constant worrywart because of how Christian died. But she had met Nancy and Douglas several times, and I guess felt I was safe with them.
It took me a few years, but the seashell necklace she never took off came from the ones we found that day. Gemma still has it around her neck. I don’t think she’s taken it off since Molly put it on her. She takes her promise to her mother very seriously. I’m just getting to the point where when I see it, I can smile and not want to cry. That necklace was so much a part of Molly, and I know it meant a lot to her to pass it onto Gemma.
“Yes,” I tell Molly. “I gave you the bigger half of my sandwich on purpose. Even then, I wanted to take care of my girl.”
I sit with my back against the side of Molly’s headstone for another thirty minutes. I come out here every Saturday to spend time with her and tell her what’s going on in my life, how the kids are, and about our family and friends. Sometimes the kids come with me, but sometimes I want to be alone.
It helps coming here. It makes me feel closer to her; like when I’m here, she can actually hear me. Sometimes goosebumps will rise on my arms. Those days are my favorite because I swear, I feel her presence.