“This is more than I ever could have imagined. Complicated. Hectic at times. But good. I’m happy. Satisfied.”
Todd smiled. “Yeah, me too. I love you, Ben. Let’s go find her.”
Ben nodded. “I’ll get her guitar and her songbook. You grab the rum and a blanket?”
“Yeah, some snacks too. She hasn’t eaten today.”
“Yes, good idea. Hey, Todd?”
“Yeah?”
“Love you too.”
Chapter Seven
The hammock she’d found herself in, staring blindly out over the water, swayed slowly. In another circumstance it would have been relaxing. She’d tried to rock herself back and forth, to find a way past this wall of grief she’d slammed into.
Since Todd had come back into her life she’d been able to prepare herself for the anniversary of Adele’s murder. She’d made it into an event so she could recognize it and not let it overwhelm her, rendering her an incoherent mess. Before then it had been a haze of weeping, too much alcohol and crippling guilt.
And after Todd, then Ben. And after them, there’d been Alexander. Such a joy. And with him, through him, she could find a way to remember Adele without this part.
Maybe she’d been wrong on that. Maybe she owed Adele this pain. Maybe she’d grown too comfortable and needed a slap of reality to help her realize that.
Her eyes hurt so much she was grateful for the sunglasses she’d worn to breakfast. Her stomach hovered at the I’m gonna puke line. Her nose ran and she still didn’t feel any better for all the tears she’d shed. No matter how much she cried, Adele was still gone.
Would there ever be a day when she didn’t think about her daughter? A day when she didn’t have at least a moment when the ache of Adele’s absence didn’t cut her to the bone?
Alexander was a lot like his big sister. That was a comfort in so many ways. Other times the way he cocked his head or snuggled up into her side when she read to him was so much like similar moments with Adele that it knocked her off balance.
She’d had a lot of wonderful in her life, and it felt ungrateful to fall to pieces like she had.
The guilt of forgetting the date crashed into her again, sweeping her under. Nothing should hurt like this. The loss of it, the stupid, senselessness of it seized her muscles. She closed her eyes against it and tried to get through.
* * *
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been out there, but after a bit she heard Todd and Ben approaching. They made enough noise that she’d hear them and not be startled, she knew.
Which only made her feel worse. She was f**ked up and broken and she’d thought she’d gotten past it all. She wasn’t worthy of any of the wonderful stuff they brought to her life.
She wasn’t okay. And she really didn’t want to hear she’d be all right. Because she wasn’t. She never would be.
She considered not responding to their calls of her name. But they’d given her the time she’d asked for.
And she needed them.
“I’m over here,” she managed to respond.
Moments later they came around the corner on the trail and found her. So much worry on their faces. Her belly twinged at the sight of all that concern.
Todd had her guitar in one hand and her pad in the other. He approached, kissed her, handed her the stuff and stepped back. “Hey, honey. We thought you might like these.”
Ben had a basket the resort staff had put lunches and snacks in, as well as a blanket. “Rum in the basket, along with some food. You didn’t have breakfast. You should eat.” He bent, kissed her and moved back to spread the blanket out.
They both laid the food out, talking quietly to each other, leaving it up to her to join them or not.
She watched them for a bit, loving the way each of them looked. The curl just behind Ben’s left ear. The pale network of scars on Todd’s chest where he’d been shot in the line of duty years before. Each man had the scruff of a vacation beard.
The rumble of their voices soothed her without nettling. And she let herself give in, let herself need them.
She moved to the blanket, sitting with her guitar in her lap.
Ben made a plate for her, setting it within her reach. She took his hand, kissing his wrist before she took a bite of the fruit and cheese he’d stacked for her.
They ate in relative silence. It was a silence she’d needed. Instead of having to put up a false front that everything was okay, they let her be.
Even after years with them both, it surprised her just how well they knew and loved her.
The ocean murmured off to their left. The give and take, the ebb and flow of all that force and energy filled the air with ambient white noise.
She strummed, picking her way through a song she’d had in her head for a while. She’d held off, knowing it would be difficult to work through, not having the energy to face it.
But it was the right time.
She took a sip of the dirty mai tai Todd had created for her before diving in.
They cleared most of the food, tucking away the leftovers and leaving out some snacks before lying back to watch her work.
* * *
Her sunglasses didn’t hide the tears in her voice as she began to create the song. Ben had been a fan of her music for many years. Long enough to know the smoke and whiskey just then was the taste of grief.
The sun on his skin, the sound of the ocean and the salt on his tongue did little to temper the knot in his throat as she sang about a wasteland of emptiness.
His woman was vibrant and filled with the joy of life. Creative, sexy. The most charismatic person he’d ever met.
Todd smiled. “Yeah, me too. I love you, Ben. Let’s go find her.”
Ben nodded. “I’ll get her guitar and her songbook. You grab the rum and a blanket?”
“Yeah, some snacks too. She hasn’t eaten today.”
“Yes, good idea. Hey, Todd?”
“Yeah?”
“Love you too.”
Chapter Seven
The hammock she’d found herself in, staring blindly out over the water, swayed slowly. In another circumstance it would have been relaxing. She’d tried to rock herself back and forth, to find a way past this wall of grief she’d slammed into.
Since Todd had come back into her life she’d been able to prepare herself for the anniversary of Adele’s murder. She’d made it into an event so she could recognize it and not let it overwhelm her, rendering her an incoherent mess. Before then it had been a haze of weeping, too much alcohol and crippling guilt.
And after Todd, then Ben. And after them, there’d been Alexander. Such a joy. And with him, through him, she could find a way to remember Adele without this part.
Maybe she’d been wrong on that. Maybe she owed Adele this pain. Maybe she’d grown too comfortable and needed a slap of reality to help her realize that.
Her eyes hurt so much she was grateful for the sunglasses she’d worn to breakfast. Her stomach hovered at the I’m gonna puke line. Her nose ran and she still didn’t feel any better for all the tears she’d shed. No matter how much she cried, Adele was still gone.
Would there ever be a day when she didn’t think about her daughter? A day when she didn’t have at least a moment when the ache of Adele’s absence didn’t cut her to the bone?
Alexander was a lot like his big sister. That was a comfort in so many ways. Other times the way he cocked his head or snuggled up into her side when she read to him was so much like similar moments with Adele that it knocked her off balance.
She’d had a lot of wonderful in her life, and it felt ungrateful to fall to pieces like she had.
The guilt of forgetting the date crashed into her again, sweeping her under. Nothing should hurt like this. The loss of it, the stupid, senselessness of it seized her muscles. She closed her eyes against it and tried to get through.
* * *
She wasn’t sure how long she’d been out there, but after a bit she heard Todd and Ben approaching. They made enough noise that she’d hear them and not be startled, she knew.
Which only made her feel worse. She was f**ked up and broken and she’d thought she’d gotten past it all. She wasn’t worthy of any of the wonderful stuff they brought to her life.
She wasn’t okay. And she really didn’t want to hear she’d be all right. Because she wasn’t. She never would be.
She considered not responding to their calls of her name. But they’d given her the time she’d asked for.
And she needed them.
“I’m over here,” she managed to respond.
Moments later they came around the corner on the trail and found her. So much worry on their faces. Her belly twinged at the sight of all that concern.
Todd had her guitar in one hand and her pad in the other. He approached, kissed her, handed her the stuff and stepped back. “Hey, honey. We thought you might like these.”
Ben had a basket the resort staff had put lunches and snacks in, as well as a blanket. “Rum in the basket, along with some food. You didn’t have breakfast. You should eat.” He bent, kissed her and moved back to spread the blanket out.
They both laid the food out, talking quietly to each other, leaving it up to her to join them or not.
She watched them for a bit, loving the way each of them looked. The curl just behind Ben’s left ear. The pale network of scars on Todd’s chest where he’d been shot in the line of duty years before. Each man had the scruff of a vacation beard.
The rumble of their voices soothed her without nettling. And she let herself give in, let herself need them.
She moved to the blanket, sitting with her guitar in her lap.
Ben made a plate for her, setting it within her reach. She took his hand, kissing his wrist before she took a bite of the fruit and cheese he’d stacked for her.
They ate in relative silence. It was a silence she’d needed. Instead of having to put up a false front that everything was okay, they let her be.
Even after years with them both, it surprised her just how well they knew and loved her.
The ocean murmured off to their left. The give and take, the ebb and flow of all that force and energy filled the air with ambient white noise.
She strummed, picking her way through a song she’d had in her head for a while. She’d held off, knowing it would be difficult to work through, not having the energy to face it.
But it was the right time.
She took a sip of the dirty mai tai Todd had created for her before diving in.
They cleared most of the food, tucking away the leftovers and leaving out some snacks before lying back to watch her work.
* * *
Her sunglasses didn’t hide the tears in her voice as she began to create the song. Ben had been a fan of her music for many years. Long enough to know the smoke and whiskey just then was the taste of grief.
The sun on his skin, the sound of the ocean and the salt on his tongue did little to temper the knot in his throat as she sang about a wasteland of emptiness.
His woman was vibrant and filled with the joy of life. Creative, sexy. The most charismatic person he’d ever met.
