A Forever Family

by Jamie Sobrato

  He wandered into the living room, to the front window with its majestic view of the redwoods, and he stood there staring out as he chanted, “Ohmmm…ohmmm…ohmmm…”

  At first, he felt ridiculous, but after a half minute or so, he could feel himself starting to relax. He sat on the floor, crossed his legs, rested his hands on his knees, closed his eyes and continued to chant.

  He forced his mind to focus on nothing but the sounds he was making, finding a rhythm between his breathing and his chanting. No more crazy-making thoughts. He pushed them away and pushed them away and pushed them away. They kept trying to return, but he guided his mind again and again to the rhythm of his breathing and the sound of his exhaled, “Ohmmmmm.”

  He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he opened his eyes again, but he felt calmer than he had in months. The tension had drained from his body, and his mind wasn’t stuck in overdrive. He was having one thought at a time, none of them neurotic, none of them overwhelming.

  It was as if he’d hit his own reset button.

  Okay. So, all he had to do was drive to the store and buy some coffee. He could do that. He would simply take it one thought at a time, one step at a time, and not anticipate too far in advance.

  His helmet. In the closet. He found it there, put it on. Found his boots, put them on. Found his wallet, stuck it in his back pocket. Found his keys, went to the door. Walked outside. Locked the door. Walked across the porch, down the steps, across the path to the driveway where his bike was parked.

  For a moment, he had a sensation of free-falling, of being out of control, but he stopped, forced his mind back to the present moment, what he had to do next. Get on the bike, put the key in the ignition, start the engine…

  The battery—what if it had died from sitting for too long?

  The engine started, no problem. Nothing to worry about.

  He could do this.

  He gave the engine a little gas, and everything else was second nature. Before he knew it, he was on the main road, headed toward town.

  Terrified and exhilarated.

  He was doing this.

  He had forgotten how much he loved to ride. The wind against his face, the bike rumbling beneath him—there were few things as exhilarating. This moment, right now, felt like a miracle, compared to how he’d spent the past few months.

  He had gone from being a shut-in to being his old self on a motorcycle in a matter of days.

  But not quite. As he neared the edge of town, the traffic increased until he was sitting at a standstill. He realized he was going to have to navigate the throngs of people crowding the streets and sidewalks for the parade that kicked off the festival. He was going to have to park at the edge of town and walk to the store.

  And this thought nearly sent him back in the opposite direction toward home.

  No.

  He’d come this far. He wasn’t going back without the damn coffee.

  His body was stiff with tension again as he parked the bike on the edge of the road as close to the town center as he could get. He had to keep meditating as he went if he wanted to actually get through this without another anxiety attack.

  Walking meditation…he didn’t know how to do it, but it had to be kind of self-explanatory. Just walk and focus on his breathing, in, out, in, out, one foot in front of the other until he was at the store.

  He wove his way through the crowd, trying his best not to look at anyone. They were all just trees, noisy trees he needed only to navigate until he had his hands on a bag of coffee grounds. But it had been so long since he’d been to town—and even then, he hadn’t spent much time there—he couldn’t quite remember where the grocery store was.

  There had to be a convenience store somewhere nearby. He got caught by the parade coming through and he had no choice but to stop among the onlookers as a group of clowns on stilts toddled precariously past them.

  Breathe in, breathe out, he told himself. Slowly, steadily…just breathe.

  The clowns passed, and there was a break in the slow-moving procession for him to cross the road. On the other side, he was thrilled to see the sign for People Food, the co-op that had been delivering his groceries to him. He made a beeline for the front door, and was relieved by the relative quiet once he was inside.

  A woman with a pierced nose and a tattoo of a queen of hearts card on her chest stood at the counter. She looked up from the magazine she was reading and said, “Hey.”

  “Hi,” Aidan croaked, his throat dry.

  “Pretty crazy out there today.”

  “You’re missing the parade,” he said dumbly.

  “I hate crowds.” She smiled, and he nodded.

  “I hear you.”

  “Can I help you with anything?”

  “I need coffee.”

  She pointed. “Far left aisle.”

  Aidan followed her directions and grabbed five packages of fair-trade coffee, just to be sure he wouldn’t run out soon. He made a mental note to stash some in an out-of-the-way cabinet so that he’d always have some in reserve from now on.

  The clerk eyed the coffee when he set it down on the counter. “Need to stay awake for the next three months?”

  He smiled…even, almost…chuckled. She smiled back at him.

  “I’m Lena,” she said. “You here for the weekend?”

  Was this pretty little Goth chick with her dyed black hair and her barely-twenty-something body actually flirting with him?

  He nearly froze up for a second, but the jolt of adrenaline from this positive, uncomplicated interaction with a pretty woman was too intoxicating not to enjoy.

  “I’m actually living here, have been for months now…But I don’t get out much.”

  Her red lips curled into an ironic little smile. “Too bad,” she said, then turned her attention to ringing up his purchase.

  Aidan let his gaze linger on her for a moment. Her cleavage, below the tattoo, drew his attention. She had small breasts, tantalizing the way they were pushed up and together, their upper halves revealed by a tight black tank top. She was too young for him, but her little bit of flirting had the odd effect of reminding him that he was alive. He was a living, breathing man who could actually be attractive to women, not just a nutcase who couldn’t leave his own house.

  He paid for his coffee, said goodbye, and left the store without the slightest bit of regret that Lena wasn’t going to end up in his bed. A few years ago, it probably would have been a different story, but the past year and a half had aged him beyond recognition.

  He thought of Emmy again. Emmy, with her grown-up woman’s body and her just-starting-to-wrinkle hands. He sometimes felt a deep aching when he thought of her, like his soul mourning what it had lost. He thought of her, compared her to Lena—a girl he didn’t know but probably could have taken home and had great sex with if he’d wanted to—and he realized how much he wanted Emmy still.

  In spite of all the heartbreak.

  In spite of the mistakes and betrayal.

  In spite of everything.

  He wanted her. Maybe it was only to wrap up their unfinished emotional business. But no. That didn’t ring true in his mind. He wanted her in his bed as a lover and by his side as a companion. He wanted her in his heart where she belonged.

  His thoughts kept him distracted from the crowd, but he couldn’t move anywhere for a while, as several large floats were passing in front of the food co-op. Aidan was stuck watching a giant mermaid float filled with waving children, followed by a vintage truck pulling a wagon that had a rock band playing on it. The music was loud, and not very good.

  But Aidan managed to hear a kid’s voice beside him say, “That’s my neighbor. He’s a pirate.”

  He looked down to see Emmy’s kid, Max, standing next to him, along with a little blond girl.

  “Hi,” Max said warily.

  “Hi,” Aidan answered.

  His gaze immediately went searching for Emmy, and he found her a few feet away, engaged in a conv
ersation with a tanned blond guy who looked a little too interested in Emmy for Aidan’s taste.

  “Mommy!” Max called to her. “Look, it’s the pirate.”

  Emmy turned and saw them. She’d been smiling, laughing at something the dude had been saying to her. If Aidan wasn’t mistaken, her body language had flirtation written all over it. She had clearly been enjoying the man’s attention, and that thought turned Aidan’s stomach.

  His face burned hot as Emmy’s expression went from smiling to shocked.

  “Aidan,” she said, closing the distance between them. “Wow, you’re here.”

  He tried to speak, but his throat closed up. And he wondered if he was full-on blushing like a sixteen-year-old virgin.

  He was such a goddamned idiot.

  Emmy turned to the guy and said, “This is, um, my neighbor, Aidan. He’s an old friend of the family staying at the main cabin on our property.”

  And to Aidan she said, “This is Devan. He’s an old friend of my little brother’s.”

  The dude extended his hand in greeting, but Aidan was frozen stiff now, unable to move. He grunted something that sounded like hello, and to Emmy he said, “Sorry, I have to go.”

  Then he turned and walked off in the opposite direction without another word. And with every step he took, he felt like a bigger and bigger fool.

  Of course Emmy was with another guy. She was a beautiful, desirable woman. And she’d already made it more than clear that she didn’t want him. Hell, she’d gone and married his best friend to prove it.

  He’d been a fool to think he could heal the old wounds between them and make something newer and better blossom to replace the pain.

  A goddamn fool.

  Fury and humiliation propelled him through the crowd, across the street, onto his bike and out of town. He couldn’t think of anything but getting as far away from Emmy as he could, as fast as he could, until he was back at the cabin, safely away from the crowds and noise and too-intense feelings.

  His hands shaking, he set about furiously making a pot of coffee, cursing himself for being such an idiot.

  Sure, he’d made it into town and bought the coffee. But was that anything to be proud of? Hell no. Any normal adult could run a freaking errand. It wasn’t anything to pat himself on the back over.

  The old Aidan would have responded differently to seeing a woman he wanted flirting with another man. He’d have stuck around and made sure he was the one going home with the girl at the end of the day. He’d never had any trouble getting what he wanted that way. Now he could only run away, cowering in humiliation.

  One minute, he’d been thinking of how he wanted Emmy for himself, and the next minute, he had a prime view of some other guy getting what he wanted.

  Of course Emmy was the key factor there. She had no reason to want Aidan, and every reason to go for a younger, attractive guy without all the baggage.

  Why go for the known quantity, already proven a failure, when there were fresh, promising possibilities to pursue?

  He wasn’t too crazy to know the answer to that question.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  My first day on the ground in Darfur, I still believed we could prevent a great tragedy from happening. I had to believe we might complete our mission there—keep the peace, save innocent lives, prevent genocide from taking root as a way of life—or I would not have been able to keep my own spirits up to do the job. But by the end of that first day, I’d seen enough death and destruction to know that our task was a hopeless one.

  From Through a Soldier’s Eyes

  by Aidan Caldwell

  AFTER THE PARADE, Emmy spent much of the day in her own booth at the festival marketplace, advertising her business, Eco Cabin. This was her opportunity to talk to potential customers, sell them on the ideas behind her green prefab cabins and demonstrate her passion for her work. And people had been enthusiastic and receptive—she’d gotten over twenty leads on potential clients.

  After several hours in the booth, she closed it down and rejoined Devan—who’d been kind enough to keep up with Max once he’d gotten bored hanging out with Emmy—and the kids for the evening.

  For such a young guy, Devan was surprisingly mature and easy to talk to. He seemed to know a little about everything, and he had a great sense of humor. She hadn’t intended to spend so much time with him, but they’d bumped into each other early in the day—although she had the vaguest sense he’d actually been looking for her—and now it was already six in the evening and the festival was winding to a close.

  Max and Zoe had played together beautifully all day, as far as she could tell. Now that they were face-painted, sticky from cotton candy and exhausted from the heat and activity, both kids were looking like they could use the dinner-bath-and-bed routine sooner rather than later.

  Emmy considered inviting Devan and Zoe back to the cottage for a quick dinner, but then she thought of Aidan, and without analyzing why, she decided against it. For whatever reason, entertaining Devan under Aidan’s nose—even with the cover of the kids—seemed cruel and unfair. She’d been so busy, she hadn’t had much time to ponder his appearance at the parade. And now that she did, she wasn’t sure why she felt as if she’d lost something when she’d watched Aidan walk away and disappear into the crowd.

  Part of her had wanted to run after him.

  She should have gone after him.

  How had he even gotten to town? Had he actually driven himself? Was he safe to drive?

  She thought of the coffee, of how desperate he’d seemed that morning, and she wondered if he’d really broken his exile for that alone.

  Max tugged at her hand, jarring her back to reality. “I’m hungry, Mommy,” he whined.

  Clearly on the same train of thought, Devan said, “Would you guys like to grab some pizza or something with us?”

  Emmy smiled. “Sure, that would be great.”

  She followed Devan and the kids as they crossed Main Street and headed left toward the local pizzeria. It would probably be jammed with people, but there was outdoor seating by the lake, and as they got closer, Emmy could see that there were still a few tables available.

  They found a table right next to the lake, where the kids could play until the food arrived, and once they’d placed their order, they sat watching Max teach Zoe how to skip rocks.

  “So you and Max’s dad…you been split up long?” Devan asked.

  Emmy had never had this kind of conversation with a guy before—having to explain her divorce to someone she might be romantically interested in. But Devan had obviously been through a break-up with the mother of his child, so he would understand better than someone who hadn’t.

  “Two years,” she said. “It’s been a rough time.”

  “Yeah, kids sure make it harder than you can imagine before you go through it.”

  “How about you and Zoe’s mom?”

  “Three years since we split. We never got married because we both always kind of knew we weren’t right together. But when she got pregnant, we both wanted to keep the baby and give it a try. We spent half the time during her pregnancy and Zoe’s first two years at each other’s throats, until we finally realized Zoe would probably be happier if she didn’t have to grow up around two parents fighting so much.”

  Emmy nodded. “Do you get along better now?”

  Devan smiled. “A hundred percent better. Hannah is a great mom, and I’m happy to have had a daughter with her, but we’ll never be more than coparents.”

  “It’s wonderful you can get along with her now. My ex…” Emmy paused, never quite sure what to call Steven these days. “Max’s dad, I mean, he kind of bailed out.”

  “Where is he now?”

  “On a spiritual quest in Tibet.”

  “Some guys never grow up enough to be fathers.”

  Emmy resisted the urge to make any cynical comments of agreement. Since her divorce, she’d struggled against feelings of bitterness, and she’d reminded herself that she wa
s at least as much to blame for the failure of her marriage as Steven was. It took two people to have a relationship, and it took two people to screw it up.

  But her ex’s behavior made it difficult sometimes not to rail against him. Like how he’d promised to call Max as much as possible, then hadn’t, leaving their son to wonder why his daddy didn’t keep his promise.

  “Max misses his dad a lot, but he seems to be doing okay here. The move has given him a lot of new things to be distracted by, for now.”

  “Hey, I know it’s not the same, but I’d be happy to hang out with him occasionally and do guy stuff with him. It would do me good, since Zoe is bored to death by fishing and rock-climbing and all those other boy things.”

  “Thank you,” Emmy said, genuinely happy at the thought of Max getting to go fishing with another guy.

  But when she pictured Max fishing it was Aidan beside him, helping him cast and reel in. Aidan, who could barely leave his cabin. Aidan, who hadn’t shown the slightest interest in Max since they’d arrived at Promise Lake. Who had, in fact, only behaved with hostility toward her son.

  He’d never think of offering to take Max fishing or anything else, for that matter. Why would she even want him to? The answer to that question didn’t warrant scrutiny because it hinted at dreams and longings she’d abandoned when she refused Aidan’s proposal all those years ago. Her life was different now and she wasn’t going to let thoughts of him intrude on this perfectly nice moment in the company of a perfectly nice man.

  The waitress brought them their drinks, and Emmy took a sip of her cold beer. She’d had a few over the course of the day, but she figured since she’d spread the drinking throughout the afternoon, she wasn’t going to get too tipsy.

  While at the same time, part of her wanted to get tipsy and see what might happen. With her inhibitions lowered she wouldn’t have to worry to death how to react to any advances Devan might make.

  “How are you doing though? Since the divorce, I mean. It was probably harder on you than on Max, I’ll bet.”