He’s still watching out for us, even after I sent him away? That made her miss him even more. “We weren’t expecting him. They just miss him.”
“Mama told him to leave.” Junie pouted.
Ginger looked at Leah curiously.
“I just needed a little space,” Leah said, wishing she could disappear.
“I understand. My son can be intense.”
“He’s great. It’s me, not him.”
Ginger smiled warmly. “It’s okay, honey. You’re allowed to want space. I’m sorry for stopping by without calling. I brought the girls a little something to play with.” She opened her purse and pulled out two small gift bags. “I’ll just leave these with you and be on my way.”
Leah felt horrible, but before she could say anything, Rosie yelled, “Pwesents!” and ran over.
Junie slid off the couch, clutching Mine and her blanket in one hand, the blanket dragging behind her.
“What do you say?” Leah asked as Ginger handed them the gifts.
“Thank you,” they said in unison, and plopped down beside the coffee table to rummage through the bags, cheering about their new colowing books and cwayons.
“Thank you so much, Ginger. You didn’t have to bring gifts, and you don’t need to leave.”
“Sweetheart, I have been in your shoes. I understand needing space. Maybe the gifts will make things a little easier and give you some quiet, too. You have my number. Call me if you need anything at all.” Ginger embraced her and whispered, “If you’d like me to take the girls for a few hours, I’m happy to.”
Leah wanted to be with them, but there was no denying how badly she wanted to crawl into bed and cry herself to sleep. “We’re okay, thank you.”
“Then I’ll see you tomorrow when I pick you up.”
As Ginger left, Leah wanted to call after her. To share her worries about the girls and tell her that she and Tank had kissed and how much she’d loved it. Am I doing the right thing? She could use advice from a woman she trusted who had been through losing someone, too. But Leah bit her tongue, because Ginger was Tank’s mother, and that would be an unfair position to put her in.
Instead, she closed the door and went to sit with the girls.
If only her worries about them were enough to quash her feelings for Tank. But as they colored in their new coloring books and Junie said, “I wish Tank was here,” Leah knew she was wishing for an impossibility.
One she didn’t really want.
Chapter Eight
LEAH STOOD IN her closet, shoving hangers to the side, with tears running down her cheeks. Ginger was going to be there in twenty minutes to drive them to the cemetery, and she couldn’t find the one black dress she owned. The dress she’d worn to her father’s burial. She leaned against the doorframe, remembering feeling as gutted then as she did now. She felt sick to her stomach and went to sit on her bed. Her gaze was drawn to the picture on her nightstand of her, River, and their father. How am I supposed to get through this, Riv?
She’d never felt so alone.
Her throat thickened painfully, and she looked at the picture of the girls and River that she’d taken the day after they’d moved into the cottage. They were playing in the front yard. River was lying on his back, his curls fanned out around his smiling face. He had one arm around each of the girls, who sat beside him like bookends, Rosie with her hair in pigtails and Junie’s red ringlets messy and tangled. They were grinning so hard, Leah remembered thinking that they’d made the best decision ever by moving.
Now River was gone, and Leah had made them all even more miserable by sending Tank away. She was mentally and physically exhausted and had no idea how she was still standing. She’d gone to bed when she’d put the girls to bed early last night, but she’d gotten up to look out the window with every noise, hoping it was Tank. She’d spent hours picking apart why she missed him so much, wondering if it was just because he’d helped with the girls. There was no denying that it was easier when he was there, but it wasn’t because he made pancakes or sang with the girls. It was because even in this tumultuous time that was testing everything she had, the four of them fit together in a way that only her family ever had. They were happier when Tank was with them, and after what he’d said to her, she had a feeling he was happier when they were together, too. He’d shown up around one in the morning and parked out front. Her heart had soared, but that happiness had been quickly overridden by guilt and confusion. What kind of a mother would she be if she gave in to her own desires over her girls’ well-being—River’s girls? She’d played the Should I go out there or shouldn’t I game until she’d fallen asleep, and when she’d gotten up this morning, his truck had been gone.
She couldn’t dwell on that now. She had to find her dress and get through River’s burial. She forced herself to go back into the closet and fished through the hangers again, slower this time. Relief swamped her when she found the simple long-sleeve black dress with lace overlay on a hanger with another dress. She pulled it on, and it tumbled to the middle of her thighs. She zipped the side and buttoned the back of the lace mock turtleneck, then slipped her feet into black pumps. There was no time to try to find tights. She didn’t even bother with makeup, knowing she was going to cry and ruin it anyway.
Rosie ran into the bedroom in her long-sleeve cream-colored dress that had pink and green dinosaurs picking flowers all over it. She touched Leah’s dress. “Pwetty!”
“Thanks, baby. You look pretty, too.” She’d explained where they were going earlier, and Junie had said that Tank had told them, and then she’d asked if he’d be there. Leah had said he would, and she knew Tank wouldn’t let her down.
“Look.” Rosie pointed to her legs, on which she’d drawn with red marker.
“Oh, Rosie.” Leah dropped to her knees to look closer. There were scribbles all over her feet and legs and smudges of marker on the skirt of her dress. “Why did you do this? We don’t have time for another bath.”
“Stowies for Wiver.” She beamed proudly and plopped onto her butt, pointing to the scribbles on her legs. “This Wiver. Guitar. Fwogs…”
Leah listened to River’s little girl paying homage to her father, and more tears came. She didn’t know how much more her heart could take. She framed Rosie’s adorable face between her hands. “I think River would love those stories.” She kissed the tip of Rosie’s nose. “Now, how about you get Junie and the two of you put on your slippy shoes? The ones with the bows.” Junie was wearing the same style dress as Rosie, but hers was green with white polka dots.
Rosie ran out of the room. “Juju! Bow shoes!”
Leah heard a car door close, and her stomach knotted. Leaving the house today would make River’s death feel even more final. She grabbed a wad of tissues to wipe her eyes, and then she picked up the whole darn box, knowing they’d need them.
“Ready, girls? Miss Ginger is here. We have to go.”
They came out of the bedroom holding Boo and Mine, looking adorable and sweet. Rosie had her shoes on the wrong feet. Leah knelt to fix them, then grabbed their memory blankets just in case. Then she ushered the girls out the door.