It was unbelievable how someone so tiny could matter so much.
She was the perfect baby ... until nighttime came. Then she was like a gremlin who got fed after midnight.
I chuckled as I looked down at the angel in my arms. “Bottle’s ready, gremlin baby.”
I carried Mia back to her room and lowered us into the old, wooden rocking chair—a gift from my parents before they passed.
Dad knew he wouldn’t last long without Mom. After she died last year, he gave me the chair and said, “We made this in the hopes that we’d get to meet our grandkids one day.”
Tears welled at the thought of my parents. The wound was still fresh, but having Mia helped with that.
While she drank her bottle, I sang “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” by Elton John. It was a song my mother used to sing to me when I was a child. I’d just seen The Lion King and was devastated by the scene when Mufasa was killed. I hadn’t realized that my parents were capable of dying until then. I told her I wanted to die before she did. She hugged me and said, “Kids aren’t supposed to die before their parents. But you don’t have to worry about me. I’m not going anywhere for a long, long time.” She sang that song every night until I fell asleep.
Now it was my turn to sing it to my child.
“I’ll never let anything happen to you,” I whispered to Mia. “I’m going to protect you and take care of you. And I’m not going anywhere for a long, long time.”
Twenty-Six
Cole
The sound of laughter greets me as I step through the gate.
So much for slipping into the pool house unnoticed.
The sun is making its descent, casting blinding rays through the swaying trees. It’s still early, but I’m ready for bed. I’ve been working overtime all week, needing the distraction to keep me from my thoughts.
To keep me from her.
When I agreed to move in with Josie, my plan was to exist. Work, sleep, repeat. Self-isolate until I could save up enough money to disappear somewhere else. Somewhere far away from family, and love, and happiness.
Callie Kingston was never part of the plan.
Kissing her the other night wrecked everything, yet I feel revitalized. Like she kick-started my dead heart, and now I can’t turn it off. My head knows better. I know I have nothing to give her.
But she looks at me like I handed her the world, and God do I want to try. I want to give her the kind of love I was once filled with, back before my life was pulled out from under me. I know I can treat her better than Paul did, but that’s not saying much. Callie deserves more. She deserves all of me.
And what’s left of me just isn’t enough.
“Uncle Cole, come night-swimming with us!” Miles shouts.
“I’m exhausted, buddy. Maybe another night.”
Josie rests her hand on her hip. “You’re not swimming in the Olympics, Cole. The water will feel good after a long day. Hang out with us for a while.”
I glance at the house over my shoulder, my eyes like magnets to Callie’s bedroom window. A dim light glows through the sheer curtains.
What’s she doing?
How is she?
Why isn’t she out here?
Is she angry with me?
“She’s not coming down, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
My attention snaps back to Josie. “I’m not worried.”
She rolls her eyes. “I don’t know how you operate heavy machinery at work all day with your head stuffed so far up your own ass.”
Brandon snorts, but quickly slips under the water when I glare at him.
“She told me about the kiss.” Josie plops Serenity down on the grass beside Lucas, amidst a plethora of toys. “I don’t understand why you pushed her away. You obviously feel something for her.”
“You don’t know what I feel.”
She laughs softly. “Sometimes I think I know you better than you know yourself.”
“Maybe you used to.” I gaze out over the tops of the tall palm trees framed by the orange swirls in the sky. “I’ll never be that person again.”
“You’re still that same person.” Josie runs her fingers through Lucas’s thick hair. “Your mistakes don’t define you. They teach you, sure. But they don’t change who you are. They don’t dictate your future. Not unless you let it.”
I smirk. “Do you get these quotes from an inspirational calendar?”
She flips her middle finger up at me, but smiles. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my lifetime. Not as devastating as yours, but they add up. Being a mom means I’m guaranteed to fuck up at least once a day.”
I lower myself onto the lush grass beside her. “Your kids are alive. You’re doing fine.”
She leans over and covers my hand with hers. “I’m so sorry, Cole. I’m sorry you experienced that. I can’t ... I can’t imagine.”
I nod, averting my eyes to the boys playing basketball in the pool. “Sometimes I forget that it’s real. I’ll have a dream that I’m holding her in my arms, that everything’s okay.” I shrug and turn my head to face Josie. “How am I supposed to go on like this? How does life get better?”
Josie points her index finger up at Callie’s window. “You start by finding someone who understands. Someone you care about. And you let her in.”
I press the heels of my hands against my eyes, as if I can rub the image of Callie right out of my mind.
But I know I can’t.
She’s implanted herself in there, and she’s growing roots.
“I know you care about her, Cole. You can’t deny it. It’s written all over your face.”
I shake my head. “I don’t deserve someone like her. She needs someone who can give her what she wants.”
Josie lifts an eyebrow. “She wants you.”
My heart twists in my chest. “Why?”
“You should ask yourself that question.” She cups her mouth with her hand and calls to the boys. “Come out and dry off, guys. You need to be showered, in bed, and reading by eight.”
Then she stands and holds out her hands for the twins. “Maybe you’re right. You don’t deserve her. Not until you can forgive yourself, and recognize the good person that’s inside of you.”
I watch her as she walks toward the house, with the twins wobbling in their puffy diapers on either side of her.
Brandon and Miles take Josie’s spot beside me on the grass, wrapped in their towels.
“What’re you guys talking about?” Miles asks.
I scratch the back of my neck. “Ah, just some grown-up stuff.”
“Do you like Callie?” Brandon blurts.
This kid hears everything. “Why do you ask?”
He shrugs, plucking out blades of grass and tossing them. “She’s sad, and you’re sad. But when you’re together, you’re not sad.”
The corners of my mouth tip upward. “You’re an observant little shit.”
Brandon grins. “Adults always think kids don’t know what’s going on.”
“But we do,” Miles says.
“Yeah, you probably know more than us grown-ups. Everything is simple when you’re little. We mess it up as we get older.”