“Honey.” Shelby’s hand on my arm brings me out of my head and I focus on her worried face. “I was thinking I’d stay with you tonight. We can watch a movie or jus—”
“Maybe tomorrow,” I cut her off, and her hand on my arm spasms. “Sorry.” I blow out a long breath. “I’m just tired. All I want to do is take a shower and go to sleep.” Sleep forever, sleep until I wake up and don’t hurt anymore.
“I don’t think you should be alone, not after today.” She doesn’t say why. She doesn’t have to. Today, I spread my husband’s ashes out at sea, something his family asked me to do. Something I really didn’t want to do but did anyways, because they wanted me to.
“I need to be alone, since...” I swallow over what feels like shards of glass in my throat and push through the pain of the words I don’t want to say. “Since Gabe… since...” I try to say it, but I can’t. “Since then, I haven’t been alone. I really want some time alone. I really need some time alone.” I feel like I’m suffocating, there have been so many people in and out of my house the last few days, everyone constantly hovering over me, asking what I need, if I’m okay. I know everyone means well, but it’s too much.
“Okay, gorgeous,” she whispers, sliding my hair over my shoulder.
“Thank you.” I roll my lips together. “Thank you f-for—” Tears spring to my eyes and I try—I try with everything in me to fight them back, but it doesn’t work. “Just… thanks.”
“Shhh.” Her arms wrap around me and I tuck my face into the crook of her neck. I don’t want to cry anymore. I don’t think I should be able to cry anymore. I have no idea how my body is still capable of producing tears after the buckets I’ve cried. “It will be okay. I promise it will get easier.” She rubs my back.
“Get rid of everyone, baby. I’ve got her,” Dad says as I’m transferred into his arms, and his familiar scent comforts me.
“Sure,” Shelby whispers.
“Thanks, baby,” Dad replies. I rest the side of my face against his chest and hold on to his waist, squeezing my eyes closed. “If I could take this pain from you, gorgeous, I would.”
“I’ll be okay,” I try to reassure him, because I know he’s worried about me. I know he thinks I’m going to break at any moment. His hand cups the back of my head, and his lips touch the top of my hair and stay there while I listen to Shelby in the living room tell everyone it’s time to go. “I should probably tell everyone thank you for coming over.” I try to pull away.
“Don’t worry about that,” Dad mutters, holding me tighter.
“Everyone’s gone,” Shelby says a minute—or what could be an hour—later, and I open my eyes and watch her walk toward my dad and me. “Your sister and brothers said they’d be over in the morning.”
I nod, not surprised they’re only giving me till morning. The three of them have stuck close to me the last few days. Every time I turn around, one or all of them are right there.
“You sure you want to be alone tonight?” Dad questions.
I tip my head back and my eyes meet his. I hate how stressed he is because of me. “Yes.” I squeeze his waist. “If I need you guys, you’re just next door,” I remind him.
“Right.” He cups my cheek, looking torn, and then his eyes go over the top of my head and he communicates something with Shelby before he looks at me once more. “We love you.”
“I know. I love you guys too.” I swallow down a fresh wave of tears and he drops his forehead to mine, resting it there for a moment before letting me go.
“Don’t hesitate to call me if you need me,” Shelby says, giving me another hug.
When she releases me, I watch Dad take her hand and lead her away. I wait until I hear the front door open and close before I leave the kitchen. I don’t check to make sure the front door is locked, because I know my dad and know he locked it on his way out. I do turn off all the light as I head through the house, because Gabe would lose his mind if I didn’t. He was always going on about the cost of electricity, probably because it was something his mom and dad had drilled into his head from birth. I used to hate coming home to a dark house, but whenever I complained about it to Gabe, he would say something to make me laugh and I’d forget all about hating it. At least until the next time I came home and the house was dark.
As I make it to the hall just outside the master bedroom, I stop and stare into the dark room. I close my eyes and will my feet to move forward, but they refuse. Giving up, I turn and head upstairs to the top floor. I grew up in this house with my dad and brother. When my dad and Shelby got together, we all moved into her house right next door, and they kept this house for the extra income they earned from renting it out. Then when Gabe and I married, they sold it to us.
When I get upstairs, I go to the bathroom, strip out of my clothes, and climb into the shower, letting the hot water run over me until it starts to become cold. Stepping out, I wrap up in a towel then go to my old room, where I grab a pair of sweats I haven’t worn in years along with an old sweatshirt and a pair of thick socks. I settle into bed and lie there forever wide-awake while staring out the window before giving up on sleep.
Needing some air, I go back downstairs, grabbing a blanket off the back of the couch on the way to the front door. As soon as I step outside, I move to sit in one of the chairs on the porch, put my feet up on the rail, and then toss the blanket over my lap. The night is clear, the stars so bright you can see every constellation without the help of a telescope. I know for certain the view I have right now isn’t something many people will ever experience. I lean my head back and close my eyes, breathing deep and letting the cool night air help fight back the pain that seems to engulf my chest every time I take a breath.
“Bre.”
My body jolts upward, my eyes spring open, and my hand covers my pounding heart as I stare at Denver’s shadowy figure at the bottom of the stairs. “You scared the crap out of me,” I breathe, taking in his dark hair and the beard covering the lower half of his face. Except for the last three days, I have rarely seen him since the night Gabe asked me to be his girlfriend, and when I did see him, he kept his distance. I kept mine too, but every now and then, I’d ask Joe about him. She never tells me much, just that he’s doing well. Still, I’m always happy to hear about him.
“Sorry. I saw you out here and decided to come over and check on you.” He takes the steps up onto the porch and sits down in the chair next to mine. “I would ask how you’re doing, but I don’t think I need to.”
“You’re probably right,” I mutter, putting my feet back up on the railing. “I… I saw you yesterday at the wake and earlier tonight. Thanks for coming. I… I probably should have… I just—”
“Stop.” He rests his hand over mine, and I jerk it away when his touch seems to burn me.
“Sorry.” I shake my head, feeling like an idiot for reacting to his touch like that.
“Don’t apologize.” He leans back in the chair and places his booted feet up on the rail next to mine. “Why are you out here?”
“I couldn’t sleep.” I rest my head against the back of the chair. “Why are you out so late?”
“It’s only ten. I was over at your parents’ with Mom and Dad. I came out to have a smoke and saw you out here. Wanted to check on you.”
“Oh, I thought it was later than that.” I look over at him. “You smoke?”
“On occasion.” He shrugs.
“You should quit,” I inform him, wanting to add that smoking kills, but I don’t, because nowadays it seems like everything has the potential to kill you. Pollution in the air, exposure to the sun, chemicals in the food you eat and in the water you drink, or an unexpected brain tumor could end your life suddenly. Really, it’s a miracle people are living past the age of twenty.
“I should.”
“Pardon?” I ask, confused by his statement.
“I should quit smoking.”
“Right, sorry.” I shake my head, looking at the night sky and the dark clouds rollin
g in.
“When was the last time you slept?” he asks gently, and I focus on him once more.
“Last night.”
“Okay, let me rephrase that. When was the last time you had a good night’s sleep?”
“A month ago.” My throat starts to get tight and I close my eyes. One month is all I had. Gabe had always had migraines, but recently they became so bad he’d get sick and be unable to get out of bed. It took me forever to convince him to go to the doctor for help, but I finally did. The doctor in town didn’t like the symptoms Gabe described and decided to send him to Anchorage to run some test. That’s when we found out he had a tumor. Not just a tumor, one that was already at a Stage Four. The doctors and specialists in Anchorage wanted to do chemo and radiation and Gabe agreed, but he didn’t even make it to his first treatment; he had an aneurism and died suddenly while at his parents’ house.
“I thought we had more time,” I whisper as wet tears trek down my cheeks.
“I’m sorry, Bre. So fucking sorry.” He wraps his hand around mine.
“Me too.” I don’t pull away. I flip my hand over and lace my fingers with his, allowing his warmth and strength to comfort me.
“He called me.”
“What?” I open my eyes and meet his gaze.
“He called me.” He looks away, and my heart starts to beat funny inside my chest.
“What did he say?”
“He said he was dying.” I try to pull my hand free, but he doesn’t let go. “He asked me to be here for you.” He pauses. “I would have done that anyways.”
“Why would he ask you to do that?” I whisper my question, not expecting him to answer.
“He knew I cared about you.”
My head jerks to the side. “We haven’t even spoken in years.” I finally tug free from his grasp, his words rolling though my head, my mind trying to figure out why Gabe would ask Denver of all people to look after me.
“You’re right; we haven’t, but I had my reasons. I think you get that.”
“Do I?” I ask sarcastically, trying to cover the new pain I’m feeling.
“Yeah, you do,” he growls, holding my gaze.
“You’re wrong. I don’t get it.”
“You know, Bre. You fucking know why I had to cut you out of my life.” His words are harsh and filled with pain.
“I don’t,” I deny softly, even though part of me does know why he stopped talking to me after Gabe and I got together. The same reason I started to avoid him.
His eyes close slowly and he shakes his head. “This isn’t the time for this,” he says gently, keeping his eyes off me. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.” He rips an agitated hand through his hair. “Fuck. You don’t need this bullshit right now.”
I want to tell him it’s okay, but he’s right. I don’t need this right now. I don’t need a painful walk down memory lane to top off the misery I’m already feeling. I don’t know why Gabe called him, but I’m also not surprised. That was Gabe. He was always trying to take care of me. Always.
I lean my head back and close my eyes. I must fall asleep, because when I wake up, I’m in my bed with blankets tucked around me. Morning light is filtering through the blinds, and my conversation with Denver feels like a dream.
_______________
Aubrey
Five weeks later
“The tests you took aren’t wrong. You’re pregnant. And from the information you gave us about your last menstrual cycle, I’d say you’re just about twelve weeks along,” Dr. Haze says, studying me closely with a concerned look in his bright blue eyes.
I really didn’t think that five tests could be wrong, but I honestly didn’t think they could be right either. Gabe and I had tried unsuccessfully for three years to get pregnant while he was alive. Each month when I had my period on time, we were both devastated. We talked about seeing a specialist but knew we would have to save in order to do that, since the only specialist in Alaska is in Anchorage and we would have to fly out for any appointments. We were saving, but it was going to be another year or two before we were able to start treatments.
“Aubrey.” His hand wraps around my knee, bringing me out of my thoughts.
“Sorry.” I blink to clear his blurry image. “This is….”
“A shock, I’m sure,” he says gently.
I nod, thinking, That’s an understatement. Then I look down and rest my hand over my stomach. Gabe left me with a piece of him. “I’m going to cry,” I whisper.
“That’s understandable.” He hands me some tissue, and I press it to my eyes and cover my face.
I don’t know how long I sit there and cry, but it’s a while before I’m able to regain control of my emotions enough to leave the office. When I arrive home, I tell my family the news. And for the first time in months, I have something to look forward to.
Chapter 1
_______________
Aubrey
CURLED UP ON THE COUCH in the living room with a cup of coffee in my hands and a fire burning in the fireplace, I stare at the dying flames as they flicker and dance, then smile when I hear the sound of tiny feet coming my way. When I see my Lyra come around the corner, rubbing her eyes, my heart melts. My girl looks just like me, from her blonde hair to her blue-green eyes.
“Hey, baby.” I set down my coffee cup and hold out my arms to her. She climbs up onto the couch and settles against me, closing her eyes and resting her head on my chest. I run my fingers through her soft hair, studying the side of her face. The last four years have flown by in a flash. One minute, I was pregnant, and the next, my girl was turning three, and tomorrow, four. I don’t think you realize how quickly time flies until you become a parent and watch your child grow up before your eyes.
“Can I have pancakes for breakfast?” she asks.
“Sorry, baby, no pancakes today. I already made you oatmeal.” I run my fingers down the side of her face then grin when her bottom lip pops out.
“Can I have pancakes tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow, you can have anything you want for breakfast, since it’s your birthday,” I say, and she pulls back to look at me.
“I can have cake for breakfast tomorrow?” she tests me hopefully.
I smile. “Let me rephrase that. Tomorrow, you can have any breakfast food you want in the morning.”
“Can I have Denver’s scrambled eggs and your pancakes?”
At her question, my chest feels funny. Denver has been a steady fixture in Lyra life since the day she was born. I really didn’t expect to see him much after Gabe’s death, but he moved back to town not long after I found out I was pregnant, and since then, he’s made it a point to be part of Lyra’s life. And mine—well, as much as I let him.
I wish I could say things between us aren’t awkward, but they are, and over the last four years, that awkwardness has only become worse. At first, things were strained because of our history and Gabe’s passing. Now, things are awkward, because I find Denver seriously attractive but know that there is no future for us.
“Can I?” Lyra’s softly spoken question brings me out of my head and I focus my attention on her.
“Sorry, baby. What was your question?”
“Can I have Denver’s scrambled eggs and your pancakes tomorrow?”
“I don’t know what Denver’s plans are tomorrow morning.”
“Will you ask him?”
“I’ll ask him,” I agree, knowing without question he will agree, since he seems to live for giving Lyra whatever her heart desires.
“Okay,” she grins happily before she rests the side of her head against my chest once more.
I press my lips to the crown of her head and breathe in her scent. I live for these moments—times when she wants to cuddle, times that are just ours. Nowadays, it seems like she’s always going a million miles an hour, trying to suck in as much knowledge as she can. I think she asks “Why?” and “What is that?” a billion times a day.
“You need to eat, baby. I n
eed to get you to Grandma’s so I can get to work.” I stand with her, then set her on her feet. I grab my cup of coffee then follow her to the kitchen.
“I wish you didn’t have to work,” she says, climbing up onto one of the barstools and resting her bottom on her calves.
I smile. “I wish that too, but I’ll be off tomorrow for your birthday, then off for the weekend.” I fill her bowl with oatmeal and place it in front of her along with a cup of orange juice.
“Can we go sledding?”
“Sure, if there is still snow on the hill and maybe I’ll see if Grandma and Grandpa want to come too.”
“Yippie!” She shoots up, tossing her arms in the air and making me laugh.
I refill my mug of coffee and add a splash of hazelnut creamer then lean against the counter, watching my baby eat her oatmeal before hustling her back upstairs to get dressed. Once we are both ready, I take her over to Shelby, who’s watching her today, and drop her off.
I make it to the office at twenty till ten, clocking in before heading outside. I walk the five blocks to the docks, where I work as a glorified gas station attendant. I don’t personally fuel the boats that come in to port, but I keep track of how much gas each boat uses, log the information, and bill them at the end of each month. My job is in no way exciting, but I do get to make my own hours for the most part, which is a win for me as a single mother.
When I almost make it to the little shed I work in at the very end of the docks, I see Barry, an older fishing captain, chatting with Lulu, Seaside Petroleum owner’s wife. Lulu and her husband Ben are two of the kindest people around, and you would never know by meeting and chatting with them that they have more money than they could ever spend in a lifetime. Not only do they own Seaside Petroleum, but they also own two of the four hotels in town and a restaurant on Main. I’ve known them both my whole life, which helped me land a job working for them at seventeen, way younger than any of their other employees.
ONE LAST WISH Page 2