Ember

by Emma Renshaw

  “I’m sorry, Gunner,” she said and stood on her toes to kiss my cheek. I turned my head, planting my lips on hers, devouring her lips for maybe the last time. She returned the kiss just as fiercely, running her fingers through my hair. Her tears slid down her cheeks, hitting our locked lips until she pulled away.

  “I’m sorry,” she said again before heading inside and shutting the door.

  37

  Delilah

  I brought a plate of cookies to the front registration desk and placed them on the counter. The booking software was open and my heart stalled.

  Gunner had checked out.

  He was gone. It was too early to leave for Spring Training, so I didn’t know where he was. I couldn’t imagine him curling his large body onto his mom’s love seat. She’d also go crazy with him hovering.

  He cared so much.

  My nose tickled with the oncoming emotions, but I shut it down before it could go further. I needed time. That’s all. Just to figure all this out and get my ducks in a row with Tucker. If Gunner ended up leaving us too, I knew I wouldn’t be able to cope and didn’t think Tuck would either. It was best to cut it off now. Cut it off now before I lost it all. Lost even more.

  I glanced at my watch. It was time to leave to pick him up from school. Usually, Mom did it, but lately, I wanted to be the one to take him and pick him up. My kitchen staff was picking up a lot of my slack. I couldn’t stop myself though.

  Every night before I went to bed, I walked around the cabin and tested the fire alarms to make sure they had batteries. Nothing had happened in the weeks since the fire, but I was on high alert and continuously wracked my brain for who wanted to harm us.

  I gathered my keys and purse and headed to my vehicle. I scanned the lot looking for Gunner’s truck, even though I knew he was gone.

  “Hey, bud,” I said when Tuck got into the SUV.

  “Hey.”

  He had been forlorn, but each day there were moments when I saw his smile poke through. It would take time, but we would get back to our routine and his spirits would come back. I wanted him to feel like a kid again instead of someone who had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

  “How was school?”

  “Did Shayla love me?”

  I slammed on my brakes at a stop sign and turned around to face him. “What?”

  “Did Shayla love me?” His eyes were focused on mine. I scanned his face, so similar to my own, but I saw Shayla there too. He still had bags under his eyes, and his shoulders were drooped instead of his usual confident stance.

  I closed my eyes and opened them, staring at him until a car behind me honked. “Want a brownie sundae?”

  He didn’t answer—and I didn’t expect him to—as I turned on Main and drove toward the ice cream parlor. He got out of the car after I parked and met me on the sidewalk.

  We ordered our treats and sat at the table. Through each minute that passed, I wondered if I was equipped to handle this. I felt so out of my depth, but I knew my son needed me. It was why I’d pushed everything else away, right or wrong. It was instinctual to surround and cocoon Tuck.

  “Yes, Tuck. She loved you. Shayla loved you a lot.”

  “Why didn’t she stay?”

  His spoon ran through the ice cream, pushing the sprinkles further into its depths. I assumed he meant when he was born, not now. It hadn’t been her choice to leave us now. I didn’t have the answers, but I though I knew. I had to surmise what I could from what I knew of her to give him some comfort. It wasn’t easy.

  “When Shayla was a little older than you, her parents died. She came to live with us. She was already my best friend and cousin. During those years, though, she became my sister. We did everything together, and we totally tortured Colt,” I joked, hoping for even a ghost of a smile.

  It didn’t happen.

  “She had some troubles when we were teens and did things she shouldn’t have done.”

  “Like what?” He peeked up, tilting his head.

  I sighed. “She started using drugs and drinking. It led her down a bad path, one she had trouble leaving. When she had you, she did what she thought was best. And that was leaving you for me to raise. It was her most selfless act of love. She loved you,” I said. “She wasn’t in a good place when you were born, and it could’ve gone very differently. It took me a long time to realize that her leaving was the best thing for you. And for us. Maybe even for her. She wanted to be better.”

  Tucker bit his lip and stared at me. His sprinkles slowly slid down the side of his melting ice cream, and his cherry had fallen to the table.

  “She loved you,” I repeated. “Even if she was never there and never saw you. She did what she thought was best, and she did it for you.” I knew, deep down in my bones, that Shayla had left so I could care for him, because she knew she couldn’t.

  His life could’ve been so different if she’d left the hospital with him. If he had been lost to us all this time too. There would never be a day when I didn’t thank Shayla for giving up Tuck.

  “Am I adopted?”

  “It’s complicated. I’m your guardian, but I was unable to adopt you when I wanted to because we couldn’t find Shayla. It would’ve needed her approval. We didn’t know where she was for a long time.”

  “Can you adopt me now?”

  “Yes. And I’m going to. I’ve already contacted the lawyers, and the process has started.”

  “Good,” Tucker whispered. “If you marry Gunner, will he be my dad?”

  I sidestepped the question but answered with honesty. It hurt hearing Gunner’s name. The pain sliced so deeply it robbed my lungs of their breath. I missed him. I wanted him with me. But I needed to focus on Tuck. “Anyone I marry would technically be your stepfather, yes. If that ever happens, they could adopt you, but we’d decide as a family.”

  “I wouldn’t mind if Gunner was my dad.”

  I pursed my lips and spoke in a shaky voice. “He would be a good father.”

  “If you didn’t know where she was, how do you know she loved me?” Tucker asked, thankfully taking the conversation away from Gunner. I didn’t know how long I could talk about him without breaking down.

  “Because I knew her, honey. She had a lot of trouble, but she was working on getting her life back on track.” I took the watch and sobriety chip from my pocket and pushed them across the table. Tucker picked up the chip.

  “That’s a sobriety token,” I said. “When someone has an addiction, like Shayla, and they try to stop, they count the days. Shayla was thirty-five days sober when she saved you. She was getting sober so she could get to know you.”

  “I wouldn’t have wanted to live with her,” he whispered before finally taking a bite of his melting ice cream.

  “I know. I had that fear, but I know now that she only wanted to be a part of your life. That fear was why it took me so long to tell you the truth. I’m sorry, honey. I shouldn’t have waited. I should’ve been honest.”

  He nodded. I wasn’t sure if he was ready to hear my apology or knew how deeply I meant it but, moving forward, I would be better. It was instinctual to protect him, but he needed honesty from me. “She gave me that to give to you. The watch was her father’s. Your grandfather. I’m going to give it to you when you’re older and it fits on your wrist. It belongs to you. And this.” I fingered the gold necklace with the rose pendant. “Was her mother’s. Your grandmother. I’m going to wear this every day as a thank you for the gift she gave me.”

  “What gift?”

  “You, Tucker. She gave me you, and it’s the best gift I’ve ever been given or will ever be given. And she did it twice. She saved you when Gunner and I couldn’t get to you. She gave you to me twice. She always loved you, even if it was from afar.”

  38

  Gunner

  “You’re not a very fun chemo buddy these days,” Mom said and nudged my shoulder. I shook out of my stupor and gave her a little smile.

  “Is chemo ever fun?”r />
  “Well, the first time you came, you had everyone in the room fawning all over you and kept me laughing. So, yeah, usually you’re fun.”

  These past weeks without Delilah had been miserable. I couldn’t stay in the cabin and give her what she thought she needed. I had to restrain myself every day from going and knocking on her door to demand that she talk to me. She “needed time”? Fuck time.

  I missed Delilah. I missed Tucker.

  “There’re cards in your bag, want to play a game?” I asked. I was usually more fun while we were here. I did anything I could think of to keep her distracted from what was happening. I ran a hand through my hair. I was failing. On all counts.

  “No, I want you to talk to me. What happened with Delilah?”

  I didn’t even know. I’d been wracking my brain trying to find out why she needed time, why focusing on Tuck meant she had to cut me out of both of their lives. My gut told me she was scared. Scared of losing someone else. Scared of Tuck losing someone else.

  I didn’t want to go anywhere though. I wanted them both. Forever.

  I’d sat in my truck for an hour the day I left the inn. All my bags were packed and in the back, but I just stared at the main lodge, where I knew she was in the kitchen. I wanted to “accidentally” run into her, but I knew she would see through that bullshit excuse and feared it’d be used against me.

  I was giving her what she wanted.

  Time.

  Fucking time.

  But soon, I was coming for her. I’d show her that we only needed each other. That I was the man she needed and I could be there for Tucker too. We’d get through this. Together.

  I was going to push, just not yet. My hands fisted on my thighs. Right now, we were trying it her way.

  “She wants to take care of Tucker and be there for whatever he needs. She said she needed time,” I admitted. Mom knew something had happened. I only uttered Delilah’s name before I invaded her tiny house and crashed on her couch.

  I wasn’t sure how she lived in it. I was constantly running into shit and hitting my head on the bathroom doorway. There was small, and then there was tiny. And it was way too tiny.

  “I could be there for them,” I said, dragging a hand through my hair.

  “You’re an idiot.”

  I turned to Mom, shocked. “What the hell?” I asked.

  “You’re an idiot,” she repeated. “Get off your ass and fight for her. Show her that you’ll be there. So she needs time. I get that. After your dad died, I wanted to wrap you in bubble wrap and not share you with anyone. It was hard. I pushed everyone away. Eventually, I came out of that stupor though. And when she comes out, you need to be there.”

  “I am an idiot,” I muttered. She was right. As usual. I had to do everything to show Delilah I loved her fiercely. And I’d already wasted a week. I wouldn’t be wasting another day. I pulled my phone from my pocket and started my plan.

  39

  Delilah

  Mom popped her head into the kitchen. “There’s a delivery up front for you, Delilah.”

  I wiped off my hands on the dishtowel hanging from my apron string and went to the wash station to wash my hands. I was running on only a couple of hours of sleep. I couldn’t get my mind off of the fire or Gunner. Tucker missed Gunner too. He asked for him every day.

  I paused in the dining room, taking a deep breath while closing my eyes. To the dining patrons, I probably looked insane, but I needed to pause for a moment. I shook off my thoughts. I would deal with them later.

  There was a cardboard box sitting on the registration counter. Mom handed me a pair of scissors. I stood on my toes to get a better look. There wasn’t a mailing label, only my name scrawled across the top.

  “Who dropped this off?”

  Mom shrugged, but there was a hint of a smile there. I shook my head and sliced through the tape holding the box closed before lifting it and setting it on the floor so I could dig through it. My chest tightened as I saw the contents and a note taped to the top flap.

  I pulled it off and opened it.

  Delilah,

  I miss you and Tuck.

  This is just a start.

  I love you.

  Gunner

  Simple and to the point, just like him. He always knew what he wanted and didn’t sway from it. I brought the card to my chest, missing him and wishing he were next to me. Wishing I could’ve caught even a single glimpse of him while he was here.

  I’d been so worried about Tucker when Shayla died. I’d been so worried when Tucker hadn’t been himself that I wasn’t thinking clearly. I knew I had made a mistake. I only hoped Gunner would forgive me.

  I dug into the box. Lying pristinely on top was a new set of chef’s knives, top of the line. I usually lugged my knives back and forth, so they’d been at home when the fire happened. I opened the holder and brushed my finger on the exquisite metal. I set it down and kept digging through the loot he didn’t have to send but did because he cared. A laugh bubbled up in my chest as I took out a gnome donning in a Rattler’s baseball uniform for the inn. I set him down on top of the registration desk.

  I wanted to bash my head into a wall for how stupid I’d been and the time I’d wasted between us.

  He’d included a new glove, cleats, and a bat for Tucker. A set of dishes for our kitchen and a blank recipe book to replace the handwritten ones I’d lost.

  A tear slipped from my eye, but my heart felt full. I wanted to go to him right now and jump into his arms, kissing him all over. I had to pick Tucker up from school and visit Carol though. She’d been sullen the last time I’d seen her, and I hoped a visit would cheer her up. I took out my phone to message Gunner, but I stopped. It needed to be more than a message. I couldn’t send him away then ask him to come back in a text message. I wanted to wow him, just as he’d wowed me every day since we’d been together.

  I packed the box back up and stood. “Was it a good package?” Mom asked with unfiltered hope in her eyes.

  “Yes, it was perfect.”

  “Don’t let that one get away, dear,” she said and walked away.

  I wouldn’t. I’d hold on to him forever.

  I knocked on the door again. Carol hadn’t answered the first time, but she knew we were stopping by after I picked up Tuck from school. Tuck peeked through one of the windows.

  “I see her,” Tuck said. I knocked again and he tapped against the glass. “She’s coming.”

  Carol opened the door. She looked haggard, tired down to the bone. There were dark purple bags under her eyes, and her skin was sallow. Her hair was knotted near the roots and hanging limply. A stain was smeared across her top, and I wondered when she’d last showered or changed. “Carol, are you alright?”

  “Fine, fine,” she said and ushered us inside, looking out to the street as she closed the door behind us. Tuck tilted his head staring at her.

  “We brought you an apple pie. Want a slice? Pie always makes me feel better,” Tuck said, grabbing her hand and guiding her to the kitchen. I placed the pie on the kitchen table and went to the cabinets to grab three plates. I took some silverware off the drying rack and went back to the table.

  “Oops! A knife.”

  I popped back up, grabbed the knife, and returned to the table, and I started to make a cut. Carol got up from her seat, grabbing the roots of her hair and making frustrated noises. I paused and looked at her. Color was rising in her cheeks, and her eyes were screwed shut.

  “You’re always forgetting things. It’s why you don’t deserve him. You’re not the mother I was.” I had no idea what she was talking about. I never forgot anything.

  I slowly put the knife on the table. “Excuse me?”

  “You don’t deserve Tucker. That boy certainly doesn’t deserve him either.”

  “Carol, what are you talking about? Are you okay?” I asked. I pulled my phone from my pocket and tapped a quick message to Gunner.

  Something is wrong with Carol.

  “I mi
ss Declan,” Carol said. “I was the best mother. I was nothing like you. How could you bring Gunner into your son’s life? You’re no mother at all. He has to pay. He has to.”

  I wasn’t sure what was wrong with her, but we needed to leave. I couldn’t imagine the pain she felt over losing her son, but I didn’t want Tuck to hear any of this. “Tucker, let’s go.”

  I reached out, grabbing Tucker’s hand, and started to rise from the table.

  “No!” Carol shouted. As something hard hit the back of my head and my whole world went black, I pictured Gunner and Tucker.

  40

  Gunner

  I drove up the long, winding driveway lined with towering oak trees. The branches broke off like veins and met in the sky over the driveway, creating a mosaic of lights and shadows. Based on the driveway alone, I was already impressed and liked it more than the other four houses I’d seen that day.

  I’d told the realtor my number one priority was the view. If I didn’t like the house, or Delilah didn’t like it, then I could level it and build a new one. The first house the realtor had taken me to had a view of a manure plant. That wasn’t exactly on my list of picturesque scenery. One look and smell of that place and I left, demanding the next address on the list. The next was okay, but it wasn’t the one. The third was too small. The fourth was almost as bad as the first.

  Delilah was on my mind with each house. I knew she’d live there with me one day. I’d prefer sooner rather than later. I wanted to come home from Spring Training to a house with her in it.

  I hope she liked her package.

  I batted away those thoughts and focused on what was in front of me. Another house to look at.

  The driveway split; one path led to the house, and the other led farther back on the property. There was enough space to build a baseball field for Tuck. The house was a large sprawling one-story made of white stone. The black double front doors were half glass, and the lights inside the house made them look like they were shining.