Page 23 of From the Embers
I knotted my hands in my lap. Grieving two of the most important people in my life at the same time was a constant balancing act. To be honest, Rob had been taking up the majority of my emotional spectrum for the last month. But there were times when I’d just sit and cry, wishing I could pick up the phone and call Jessica one last time. Listen to her laugh.
I swallowed hard, a tear leaking from the corner of my eye. “Jessica had a rough life before you, and incredible talent aside, being a musician’s wife was never going to be easy. I wanted the easy for her. If I’d had my way, she’d have married an accountant.”
He chuffed. “She would have been bored to tears. Though she would probably still be alive if she had.”
It had been bad enough for me to think vile things of him right after the fire, but to hear him verbalize such a deprecating thought made my heart ache for him.
He’d been there for me countless times, most recently that very day. It was my turn to be the friend he needed.
“Maybe?” I deliberately calmed my tone and spoke to him the way I would have spoken to Jessica—the way I spoke to my friend. “But without you, there would be no Luna. She never would have given up that little girl, even knowing how it ended.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed as he turned away and scrubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
After slowly rising to my feet, I moved into his space. “If we’ve learned anything recently, it’s that life is short and its impact isn’t measured in years. Buy a piano, Eason. Write the songs. Be the star. Flip the entire music industry on its head. But most of all, show Luna that if you work hard and never give up, dreams can become a reality.” I quickly wiped away the tears streaming down my cheeks. “And you know what? After this nightmare, I could really stand to see a dream come true.”
Emotion sparkled in his light-brown eyes as he turned back to face me. “Are you sure? I mean about me being here all the time and watching the kids. We are two very different people and parents, Bree. This won’t be as easy as it sounds.”
“Yeah, I know. But we can do it together. Let’s just try it without the hating-each-other thing this time.”
“I can do that,” he vowed with so much hope in his tone that it made my chest squeeze.
“Just promise no more syrup.”
Smiling, he wrapped his hand around the back of my neck and stared deep into my eyes. “I swear never to feed your children anything they will actually enjoy again.”
I let out a half laugh, half cry, and then, with a gentle pressure at the back of my neck, he pulled me against his chest.
That man—always a hugger.
He rocked us from side to side, more like he was trying to calm a crying baby than slow dance. “We got this, Bree. Me and you. We got this.”
And for the first time since our world had exploded, I felt like maybe he was right.
EASON
One year later…
“Rawr!” I yelled, jumping out from behind the couch.
Madison squealed with laughter, racing down the hall with her nightgown brushing her ankles.
Luna stopped dead in her tracks, pinning me with a menacing glare that no nineteen-month-old should be able to produce. “No!” she said, pointing her finger at me. “No, Daddy.”
I lifted my hands in surrender. “Okay. Okay. I’ll be nice.”
She smiled and brought her hand to her nose, but kept the fingertip leveled on me. “No. Scay. Una.”
It was crazy how fast the kids grew. Gone was my slobbery baby who’d thought pocket change was an acceptable snack. Stop judging. It happened one time and I’d fished the quarter out of her mouth immediately.
No. I did not tell Bree. All of our lives were safer that way.
With her short, curly, brown hair and a set of teeth so straight they looked like baby dentures, Luna was a big girl now. Or so I told her while trying to convince her to potty train with Madison. We were still working on both girls, slowly and surely making progress toward a diaper-free paradise.
“Did you find it?” Bree asked, walking into the room.
Luna turned to look at her, and while she was distracted, I pounced. Springing off the floor, I scooped my daughter into my arms.
She fell into a fit of giggles as I tickled her. Squirming and flailing, she extended her arm out to the side. “Bwee, help! Help!”
“Oh, no.” Bree caught Luna’s hand and brought it to her lips for a kiss. “You are on your own when it comes to the Maxwell tickle monster.” She lifted her gaze to mine. “However, if we expect them to be in bed by eight, the tickle monster might want to start singing a lullaby instead.”
