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“I am here, where I belong and where I’ve wanted to be from the jump. You’re the only one who invades my thoughts, who my heart beats for,” he continued quietly with a slight smirk playing on his lips as he glanced down at her mouth for a brief moment before meeting her gaze again. “Because I’m willing to risk everything for the possibility of having something real with you. If you’re willing to do the same. We can take it as slow as you want. Just knowing you want to try is enough for me right now.”
Reid’s heart pounded so hard against her chest that it mirrored the rhythm of the jazz music coming from the club. Fast and intense.Overwhelmed with emotion, she leaned into him, closing the gap between their bodies and hearts.
She looked up at him one more time before whispering in a tender tone, “I’m willing to take that risk with you too.” A small smile played on Grayson’s lips as he tilted his head slightly.
Their lips met in a sweet kiss under the moonlit sky. Their first date was the start of something beautiful and terrifying. Reid had everything to lose if Grayson changed his mind, and everything to gain if he didn’t. Without a doubt in her mind, body and soul, he was the man for her.
FIFTEEN
NADIA
Summer slowly faded away. Lorraine and Sienna had returned to their lives. As had Reuben. Cleo and Otto had kept their distance, which bothered Nadia. They still had two other grandchildren, and she needed their help. Warren came to visit every other weekend, taking the train from DC to Boston. His visits were short and mostly came from a need to make sure the house didn’t require repairs and the lawn stayed mowed. Everything in Nadia’s life continued to evolve and change, but none of it was for the better. People who’d cared and expressed grief over Rafe’s passing, or brought food for them in the days after, no longer called or stopped by. They had all forgotten, while Nadia and the girls continued to live with the crippling grief.
When Nadia returned to her classroom for the first time since Rafe’s passing, it wasn’t the same. The substitute had taken down all Nadia’s decorations, boxed up the pictures of her girls and Rafe, and made her classroom unwelcoming. The wall dedicated to the American Revolution and the history of Boston was blank, the bookshelves bare. The books had been piled in stacks, in a disorderly fashion. She felt out of place, like she didn’t belong in the room that had been hers for years, and she definitely didn’t want to be there. Not yet at least. She spent most of the first week putting things back where she wanted them. Atask that should’ve taken her hours took her five days. Nothing was as it was, and she couldn’t make it the same, no matter how hard she tried.
It was just like her life.
By the time staff meetings rolled around, she had found some kind of groove. It wasn’t the one she was used to, though. Gone was bubbly Nadia who loved life. In her place was a sad, sullen woman who had trouble getting out of bed in the morning and found every excuse to stay home.
Nadia dreaded the first day of school, a day she used to look forward to. She used to love meeting new faces and seeing returning students who took her advanced class. Teaching history was her thing, and she’d thought living in a place that had done everything to preserve it was something people should embrace. The annual field trip they took, walking the Freedom Trail, had always been a highlight of her year. So had been stopping at Boston Common to ride the carousel, weaving their way through history, knowing that the men and women who’d forged our country had battled in the same spots they walked; then they’d eat lunch at Quincy Market. Their field trips led them to Marshall Street, where they would visit the Green Dragon Tavern, which dated back to 1654. It was where Paul Revere penned his memoirs about his clandestine meetings with Samuel Adams, John Adams, and others. It was where they sat and eavesdropped on British troops who openly discussed war plans.
She needed to find a way to get back to the Nadia of old, which was easier said than done when she felt so empty on the inside.
The first day of school also meant they’d each embark on a new school year with a change none of them had expected. Their morning routine would be different. Rafe wouldn’t be there to wrangle an overly excited Lynnea or calm Gemma’s nerves. He wouldn’t kiss them goodbye and wish them the best first day ever or tell Nadia to teach history in a way the students would never forget. He wouldn’t share in their first-day-of-school breakfast or be waiting for them when they camehome, eager to hear the tales of new teachers, friends, and the smelly boy who pulled Gemma’s hair.
Nadia would be the one to fill out the paperwork, pack lunches, and make sure the girls were presentable for school. She’d look over their homework, help with their bath time, and tuck them in at night, all while grading papers, making dinner, starting laundry, and picking up after them. The help she’d had with her family coming and going since the accident was gone. They wanted her to be independent, which she understood. The problem was, she had never done parenting by herself. She and Rafe had been a team, from the onset.
At night, she talked to his photo, telling him her fears and how she felt inadequate as a mother because she had trouble coping. This was her form of therapy. She didn’t need a head shrink telling her she was a shitty mother or hung up on the death of her husband. Nadia had that one figured out for herself. For fifty bucks an hour, she could tell you everything that was wrong with herself, the girls, and herself as a mother—she’d lost her husband and the girls their father to a freak accident that had been preventable. You don’t move on from that in days, weeks, or even months. You don’t cope and move on because society doesn’t allow it.
If Nadia intended to get through the school year, she would need help. As it was, she couldn’t afford a part-time babysitter on her salary alone, and the life insurance policy hadn’t come in yet. If it hadn’t been for the city, donations, and their parents, Rafe’s funeral would’ve been held in their backyard. People had come through for them, and she needed one more to do the same.
She picked up her phone and pressed Cleo’s number and waited for her mother-in-law to pick up. In the past five months, since Rafe’s funeral, Nadia hadn’t seen much of her in-laws. They came around, but nothing like they used to. That needed to change.
“Hello,” Cleo said in her singsong voice, which for some reason made Nadia mad. She shouldn’t be cheery.
“Hi, Cleo,” Nadia said and then took a deep breath. Asking for help wasn’t something she was comfortable with.
“Are the girls okay?”
Only the girls? Not me?
“They’re the reason I’m calling. School starts tomorrow, and they finish their classes before I do. I was hoping you or Otto could pick them up for me, and stay at the house until I get home?”
“Every day?”
Don’t sound so enthused to spend time with your grandchildren.
“Until I can find someone part time who isn’t working every day until five.”
“I didn’t know you were looking for someone?”
How would she? It wasn’t like she called, stopped by, or stopped blaming Nadia for donating her son’s organs. Nadia sat there, unable to come up with something to say. She wanted to scream and tell her Rafe wouldn’t appreciate the way she acted, but he would’ve expected this from his mother.
“It’s fine, Cleo. I’ll figure something out.” Nadia hung up before her mother-in-law could say something. She didn’t need her or Otto, even though she loved Otto dearly. Her next call was to Hazel.
“She hates me,” Nadia said when Hazel answered. “And she’s taking it out on the girls.”
“I think you knew this was going to happen. She isn’t like your mother. I have no idea how she raised someone like Rafe.”
