Pulling her to my side, I place my hand over her rounded belly. Lowering my head a touch, I say “Did you hear that?” A gentle kick responds. “Mommy wants you out.”
“Stop making her kick. It’ll make me have to pee again.” Smiling at me, she pops a kiss to my cheek. “I’m proud of you. You know that?”
“Yeah, I know. I’m kind of a big deal,” I joke and everyone around us laughs.
“All right, all right. You think you can fit that giant head of yours through the door. We’re taking you out to celebrate.”
“I can turn sideways.” My joke is met with a light, playful slap on the arm from Grace and a snickering laugh from everyone else.
“This is where you took me on our first first date,” Grace says as she lowers herself rather clumsily into a chair.
In the years since my accident, Grace has told me some stories of what our life was like beforehand. But as the days moved on, the past became less and less important. The only thing that mattered was today, the here and now.
And here and now is pretty amazing.
Ian boasts about his latest run, telling me I need to get my ass in gear. “Yeah, well, I challenge you to a furniture assembling contest. That’s a real challenge.” Having spent the last few weekends putting together a crib and other assorted baby gear, I’ll never look at a completed nursery lightly again.
Holding up his hands in mock defense, he concedes, “Fine. You win. I wouldn’t even know where to begin with that. Babies and whatnot. That’s some real scary stuff right there.”
Slapping him on his arm, Jade says, “Don’t listen to him. He’s as excited as the rest of us for this sweet baby girl to get here.”
“Not as excited as I am,” Grace says from her seat. Standing up, she excuses herself to the bathroom once more, complaining about it until her voice melts into the rest of the noise.
As the crowd of our friends and family move around us in the small Italian restaurant, a warm feeling of happiness settles in me. When Grace returns, I rest my hand over her belly. I smile at her, knowing that choosing to bury my past, the parts I couldn’t remember at least, was the best decision I ever could have made. Weighed down by the before kept me from stepping into the after. It was only through Grace’s love that I was able to move on and stop thinking I was somehow broken.
Through the meal, she tells me of that first date, seemingly forgetful that she’s told me the story before. I don’t mind though. Sharing her happiest memories with me is something I’ll never get tired of.
After everyone leaves sometime later, Grace and I step out onto the street. With my firehouse right in front of us, we look up at the brick-faced building. Gallagher slaps me on the back as he walks toward the station. “We’ll miss having you around here,” he admits. “But you’ll make a damn good lieutenant in the new house, too.”
“Thanks, Cap.” Shaking his hand, I never thought he’d ever show an ounce of emotion.
“Want to walk a little?” Grace asks, looping her arm through mine. “I want to take you somewhere.”
Leaning down, I kiss her softly. “Well, how can I argue with that.”
It’s a slow pace, but luckily our destination is only a few blocks away. The warm glow of the lights at the 9/11 Memorial shimmer in the early evening sky. With the anniversary of the attacks in just a few days, the site feels more somber than usual. The area where the bomb that nearly destroyed me is restored, much like my own life. Wordlessly, we walk around the wall of names, stopping in front of the section where the men’s names who perished from Squad 18 are etched.
In a moment when memories mingle with the present, Grace and I stand in silence, watching the water pour into the center of the pool of tranquility. “You promised her you’d never forget,” Grace says, tracing over the name of the firefighter who shares my name. “His mother. You promised her as long as you live that you’d never forget. That’s why you were here the day of your attack, so that you could honor his memory.”
Nodding, I squeeze her hand in mine. Words elude me, the enormity of it all too much to process. After a few more minutes of silence pass between us, I ask, “Why did you want to come here?”
“Because . . .” Pausing, she turns away from the water, looking only at me. Her eyes sparkle, so blue and pure, it hurts to look right at them. “I wanted you to know that no matter how many tomorrows we get, I will spend the rest of them by your side, remembering all the things you may have forgotten along the way. I promise to never forget right along with you.”
“I love you, Gracie. So damned much it hurts sometimes.”
Resting her head against my heart, she tells me she loves me back.
But I don’t need to hear the words. Her heart will always be in my heart.
I’ll carry it there forever.
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There’s so much I want to share about this story, about the people who inspired it, about what it means to me, about how it came to be. My uncle was a firefighter in the FDNY. Unfortunately, he was one of the 343 firefighters who perished on 9/11. When the idea of writing a story in his memory came to me, I didn’t know exactly how it would go. In fact, I started From the Wreckage back in 2013 after I completed my first book.
It took me twenty-seven months to finally get to “The End” and it truly was a labor of love. I’m so very proud of this story. It’s the life I wish my uncle could have had—one filled with love and happiness, a wife and some kids. I miss him every day and I thought about him a lot while writing this. If you’ve made it this far, I hope you’ve thought about him and the other victims of 9/11 at some point as well.
And that’s why the notion of memories played such a large role in the story. There comes a certain point after you lose someone close to you when you remember who they were, but you get caught up in wondering who they could have become. You remember larger things about them, their laugh, the color of their eyes, but you begin to forget some of the smaller details. They get lost in the fog of time. And that’s why David and Grace’s story is so important to me. Like the love they’ll always carry in their hearts, I will always carry the memory of my uncle in mine.
I am so fortunate to have such an amazing team at my side when it comes to writing and publishing. Without them, I know I wouldn’t have been able to accomplish half the things I have.
My beta readers—Kristy Bruno, Jennifer Diaz, Nasha Lama, Mayas Sanders, Pam Schaeffer, Emily Bentz, and Ashley Griffieth. Thank you all so much for taking the time to read and help me fine-tune From the Wreckage. I can’t begin to express how valuable I find your feedback.
My editing team—Thank you, Becky Johnson and your Hot Tree Editing team. I can’t imagine publishing a book without your help. Thank you for taking care of my baby and helping me make it the best it can be. And thank you Chris Parece for taking one last proofread through From the Wreckage and catching everything my tired eyes couldn’t.
My formatter—Tami, simply put, you are a genius. Thank you for doing what I would never have the patience to do. And you make it all look so pretty. Even though I had a million and one tasks for you this time around, but they were never an issue for you. I owe you so much. Thank you, thank you, thank you!
My cover designer—Staci Brillhart at Quirky Bird Designs. Seriously, you do such phenomenal work. I’m so happy I took a chance on someone new. You most definitely are a rare talent and I’m so proud to have your work on as my cover.
My street team—I am so unbelievably thankful for your help and laughter every day. This group has come to mean so much more to me than simply a group of readers. You’re my friends and I couldn’t go through this process without you.
My blogs—The fact that the list of blogs who help me is ginormous is such a lucky problem to have. Whether you have 50K fans or 500, I am eternally thankful to each and every one of you for helping me get my work out to readers.
Whether you reviewed or simply shared a post, I am lucky to have you as part of my team.
My authors—I am so blessed to have as many author friends as I do. Their support and comradeship through this crazy process is more helpful than they can know. To all my Author 101, #WriteClub, and C.O.P.A girls, thank you. Jennifer Berg, I can never thank you enough for your undying support in everything. Your friendship means more to me than I can put to words.
My P.A.—Ashley—I really can’t thank you enough. You have faith in me when I don’t even have it in myself. You are so much more than an assistant; you are truly my best friend. There simply isn’t enough room in here for me to say all the things that need to be said. Thank you for just being there.
My family—Jamie and the boys. I love you with everything I am.
Uncle David—I miss you and I hope I did your story justice. Until we meet again, I’ll carry your heart in mine.
Let Love In: http://mybook.to/LetLoveIn
Let Love Stay: http://mybook.to/letlovestay
Let Love Heal: http://mybook.to/LetLoveHeal
Let Love Shine: http://mybook.to/letloveshine
Let Love Be: http://mybook.to/LetLoveBe
Let Love Live: http://mybook.to/LetLoveLive
Box Set 1: http://mybook.to/LoveBoxSet
Box Set 2: http://mybook.to/LoveBoxSet2
Tangled Vines: http://mybook.to/TangledVines
On Solid Ground: http://mybook.to/OnSolidGround
Repaired: http://mybook.to/Repaired
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Table of Contents
Dedication
Part One ~ Remembered
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Part Two ~ Forgotten
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Epilogue
About From the Wreckage
Acknowledgements
Other Works
Social Media Links
From the Wreckage Page 29