Page 5 of Worthy of Sunsets and Second Chances

Loving Wife, Mother & Daughter

As always, I give him privacy as he whispers words to her. I take my time laying out the food I prepared for today: all of Mom’s favorite things. Fruit salad with extra strawberries and a drizzle of honey, Nana’s sun tea, turkey club sandwiches, sugar snap peas with hummus for dipping, and oatmeal cookies without raisins. I don’t know why I bring the snap peas every year, Pop and I hate them and they go untouched.

He settles down next to me on the blanket and uses his warm, rough thumb to swipe the tear rolling down my cheek away. I wasn’t even aware it had happened, but being here today always has that impact on me. My eyes wander between my mom’s headstone and my grandmother’s, the weight of the loss of the most important women in my life bearing down on me like a heavy hand that won’t let me open my lungs fully to the fresh summer air.

I let my tears fall and allow the one man that has always been there for me my entire life to hold me the way he always has. Together we laugh, cry, and love each other through the grief that has never gotten lighter, but we learned how to carry anyway.

“I know going every year must be so hard,” Lainey says later that night at Sutton’s, “but I think it’s a really special tradition that you have with your dad.”

Tired of all the tears, I snag a tissue and dab my eyes. I can’t get them to stop today. Some years are so much harder than others. Some months, some days, some hours, some minutes. Grief can sweep in and snuff out all the other emotions, demand your attention, and consume you in a way that makes you feel as if you are suffocating on absolutely nothing at all.

“Thanks,” I manage to whimper out. “My dad is so strong, I don’t know what I would do without him. Going there any other day feels like a peaceful visit. Like a place I’m usually drawn to. I even bring the grave blanket, put it between Mom and Nana, lay there and talk to them, or even read a book. This day, it’s just not the same.”

“Of course it’s not.” Sutton grabs my hand, rubbing it gently. If anyone knows the depths of grief, it’s her. So fresh, thick, and heavy it rolls off her in waves most days like a fog. I look down at her forearm, the battle-worn angel wing tattoo with a sword through it, rippling with her movements: a memorial for her late husband.

“I also don’t know what I would do without you girls.”

Our soggy group hug is interrupted by the ringing of Lainey’s phone.

“Hello?” Lainey answers, standing and pacing. “Remington, what’s going on?” She looks at us, eyes going wide, our worry immediate.

Sutton and I grasp hands and scoot closer together on the couch. Rem is a firefighter with Fox Grove Fire Department, so there are plenty of reasons for us to worry about a phone call that causes such a reaction from Lainey.

“A WHAT!” Lainey shrieks.

See . . . Nothing good can come from this day.

4

Eli

“Want to get some drinks tomorrow night?” I ask Rem. “The Grind?”

“Can’t. Lainey and I have to meet up with the contractor and pick out our countertops for the kitchen and the bathrooms, and then I am taking her out to dinner.” He rubs his neck and stretches out his shoulder.

“Man, that house is going to be so nice when it’s done, but I don’t envy all the decisions y’all have had to make these past months.” I wince. After Lainey’s psychotic brother tried to burn their home down with her in it, now they are rebuilding and starting fresh on their own terms. Literally from the ground up.

“It’s been so much work. Way more stressful than either of us thought it would be, but I know that if we survived Cal, we can make it through anything. Plus, imagining life with her in that new house makes it exciting.” The fucker gets all glossy eyed and his head is immediately in the clouds . . . I’ve lost him.

“Yeah whatever, you go off to the ball and chain. I am going to the Grind, having a whiskey or two, finding a gorgeous woman that knows the score, and getting my dick wet for one night. It’s been too long.” I slap him on the back as we make our way to the fire station gym.

“One of these days that shit is gonna get old. Don’t you want more?” Rem asks me, which he usually avoids. But ever since he’s fallen in love and is all happy and whatever, he wants me, his best friend and brother for all intents and purposes, to get hit with Cupid’s arrow too.

“No fucking way. Bachelor life and banging is just fine for me, thanks. Zero commitments, all the fun.” I wink at him, pull out my jump rope, and cue up the song I’ve been working on.

Jump rope used to just be another exercise tool in my arsenal to keep this six-four body in tip-top form . . . but it turned out ladies apparently love a good thirst-trap video, and who am I to deny them? I started out posting a few regular fitness videos, but the ones that really popped off were of me jumping rope. That motivated me to learn more, practice my perfect ass off, and gain almost half a million followers and counting on social media. What I didn’t expect was to get so much satisfaction from helping to inspire a lot of other guys on a path to wellness too. Not necessarily to get ripped but to just move their bodies, try something new, different, and live a healthier lifestyle.

And turns out making the videos, learning the routines? It’s pretty fun.

Right as I am about to start my warm-ups and Rem is doing his own thing, an alarm blares throughout the station.

But this is not a normal fire call alarm . . .

This is the alarm that goes off only when the Safe Haven Baby Box has been activated. Meaning, someone has opened the door from the outside of the fire station, taken the resources left for them in a special bag, placed a baby inside of the box, and securely shut the door. Once the door is closed, it’s locked from the outside and triggers the special alarm inside of the fire station.

Being in the gym, Rem and I are the closest ones to the box. We rush out to where it is in the hallway, between the gym and the common room area of the station. I go to turn off the alarm while Rem opens the inner door to the box, revealing a tiny newborn baby, wrapped in a pink blanket. I assume it’s a girl because of the blanket, and she has lots of dark brown hair, her lips are set in a full pout, and she is fast asleep, unbothered by the noise.

Scooping her gently into my large hands, I cradle her in the crook of my elbow, bouncing her slowly, hoping it will keep her sleeping. As I rock, a cream-colored envelope falls from her blanket onto the floor. Rem picks it up, rips it open, and quickly begins to read it aloud to me, both of us eager for any information on this little peanut.