“Actually, Tank said something like that to me a couple of weeks ago. I needed to hear it again. Thank you.”
“Any time you want to talk,” Ginger said compassionately. “I’m here.”
“Okay, enough mush,” Madigan teased. “Let’s get these cookies done and go through the pictures before I have to leave to meet Zander.” She and Zander were writing a song together.
“Pictures?” Leah asked.
“I thought you and the girls might get a kick out of seeing pictures of Tank and the boys when they were younger,” Ginger said as Rosie shoved a handful of chocolate chips into her mouth, and Junie admonished her.
“They’re so stinking cute.” Madigan took out her phone to take a picture of Rosie with her cheeks full of chips and Junie scowling, but the second she held up her phone, Rosie grinned and chips fell from her mouth.
“Ew! Wosie!” Junie hollered.
Rosie laughed, sending chips flying in all directions. Junie ran away, giggling, which made Rosie laugh harder, spewing spittle and causing the rest of them to erupt into laughter.
They cleaned the kitchen again and scrubbed the girls’ hands and faces.
“I’m sorry about the cookies,” Leah said.
“We have plenty of other food, and the fun was worth it.” Ginger put her arm around Leah as they headed into the living room. “You know what I always say? A house full of laughter is a home full of love.”
“I couldn’t agree more, even if it’s not always easy.” Leah’s father might not have said those words, but it described how they’d lived, and in turn, how she and River had lived.
Ginger hugged her against her side. “You’ll get there again. I promise.”
The living room was warm and inviting, with deep-cushioned couches, oversized chairs, and French doors that led to a large patio and a beautiful yard. Ginger opened a chest that was against the wall and pulled out a photo album. “Let’s sit on the couch.”
Junie sat on Leah’s lap, and Rosie sat on Madigan’s, with Ginger between them as Ginger showed them pictures of her and Conroy on their wedding day.
“Pwetty,” Rosie said.
“That’s me and Conroy on our wedding day,” Ginger said.
“That’s not Conwoy,” Junie said. “His hair is the wong color.”
“That’s him, sweetie. When he was younger, he had black hair like Tank. We were so young. I was only twenty-two when we got married.”
“Can you imagine being married that young?” Madigan shook her head.
“I was parenting River at eighteen, and Junie came along when I was twenty, and then Rosie. Twenty-two doesn’t seem too young to be married. Was it love at first sight for you, Ginger?”
“Yes. I knew the second I saw him swaggering toward me in his leather jacket and black boots, with that arrogant grin plastered on his face, that he was the one. That grin still gives me goose bumps. But he was so full of himself. Imagine Zander and Gunny put together. That was Con.” Ginger laughed softly. “God, he was something.”
“And you’ve been together from that moment on?” Leah asked.
“Oh, no, sweetheart. I played hard to get. But I never stood a chance. The Wicked men are a special breed. Ask Reba—she’ll tell you. It’s like they have a homing device to their one true love, and when Conroy’s and Preacher’s hearts spoke, ours had to listen.”
“Hear that, Leah?” Madigan teased. “It’s you and Tank forever.”
Leah opened her mouth to dispute that she and Tank were getting that serious, but she’d never felt so connected, understood, and protected, and she couldn’t bring herself to say otherwise.
“Don’t scare her away, Mads,” Ginger said.
“You’re the one touting true love,” Madigan said. “I know better. The Dark Knights might be loyal as all get out, but other guys aren’t. One broken heart is enough for me.”
“Your heart bwoken?” Rosie kissed Madigan’s shoulder. “Better?”
“Much.” Madigan nuzzled against Rosie’s cheek.
“What happened?” Leah asked.
“That’s a story for another time and a pitcher of margaritas,” Madigan said. “But I’m fine. My life is way too busy for romance.”
“Honey, if we all waited for the right time, we’d be single forever. I know you’re not big on love right now, Mads, but when it hits, you won’t be able to walk away.” Ginger lowered her voice. “By the way, I’ve never admitted to Con that he had me at that grin, so keep that to yourselves. What’s said among us girls stays among us girls.”
She showed them baby pictures of Tank, with big dark eyes and pudgy cheeks, and pictures of him through the years. The girls couldn’t believe Tank had ever been so little. There were pictures of Tank and his siblings and cousins sledding and playing at the beach. A few stood out to Leah, like one of Tank at seven years old, sitting on a couch holding one-year-old Ashley so tight, he looked like he wasn’t going to let anyone take her away.
The girls got fidgety and went to play with the toys Leah had brought, while Leah continued looking at pictures with Madigan and Ginger. They came to one of Tank and his siblings standing in a field in the rain. Tank was tall and thick waisted and looked to be about fifteen, his dark hair hanging into his eyes, his boyish, handsome face free from stubble and piercings. He had his arms around Baz and Blaine, and Ashley and Madigan were sitting on the wet ground by their feet, looking up with their mouths open, catching raindrops.
“Remember that festival, Mads?” Ginger didn’t wait for an answer. “We go to a music festival in Barnstable every year. We got rained out that time, but it was still fun.”
“We should take Leah and the girls next time,” Madigan said.
“We’d love that,” Leah said, imagining how fun it would be. Her thoughts tiptoed back to River and how much he’d have enjoyed going to a music festival. That brought a pang of longing, but it didn’t bring tears this time, only a realization that he’d want them to go and enjoy it. It was a bittersweet feeling.
They looked through holiday photos and school pictures with goofy grins, pictures of Baz with all sorts of animals he’d brought home over the years, and several pictures of all the siblings helping a humanity group get beached whales back into the water. There were pictures of the kids on their parents’ motorcycles. They came to a picture of Tank sitting on a motorcycle with a glimmer of pride in his eyes. Ashley sat behind him with her arms folded on his back, her cheek resting on them, and the happiest expression lighting up her eyes.
“That was Tank’s first bike. He bought it right after his eighteenth birthday.” Ginger ran her finger over the picture. “He’d worked at the restaurant and got an online job illustrating graphic novels through high school and saved all his money to buy that bike. That was the first time he took it out. I’ll never forget the way Ashley had bounced on her toes, trying to keep from begging him to take her with him. She always wanted to go wherever Tank did, and we’d told her she couldn’t beg him for his first ride. But he’d taken one look at her and said, ‘Get up here.’” She paused with a thoughtful expression. “Ashley was on that bike in three seconds flat.”