Page 27 of Saltwater Cowboy

“I will sure do my best.”

We sat with the conversation hanging in the humid air.

“I just had a thought. Feel free to say no.”

“Oh-kay…”

“Why don’t you come work at the Coastal Cup? The newest barista we hired is graduating from college and is taking some time off, so we could really use another set of hands.”

“Charlie, I—” I interrupted. They were already letting me live in their house for free, I couldn’t have them pay me at work.

“You’ll be paid the same as all the other employees. There won’t be any favoritism. You’ll have to help clean the bathrooms like everyone else.” He paused, “Plus, it’s not us paying you, it’s Larry.”

“Who’s Larry?”

“The guy we hired to do all that HR and payroll stuff. He’s a bit of a jack of all trades.”

“I don’t know…” I trailed off.

“You don’t have to decide now.” He comforted.

I changed the subject. “Are you happy to be having a boy?”

A wide smile, “Yeah. I am.”

“I know this all really sucks for you, but I have something that might cheer you up.”

“What’s that?”

“The name of your nephew if you’re interested.”

My heart leapt in my chest, “Abso-freakin-lutely.”

“His name is …” Charlie paused dramatically. “Silas Wells.”

I burst into tears again and wrapped my arms around his neck. “Come here, you oaf! That’s the most precious name I have ever heard.”

Charlie was beaming. “We really like it.”

“I do, too.” I paused, taking in the beautiful evening. “I’m really happy I get to be here for all of this. The thought of missing everything was tearing me apart inside. Finding out Blythe was pregnant over a video call and not in-person sucked. I should’ve been here. I should’ve moved here when she asked after she did.” I gave a heartless laugh, “Would’ve saved me some heartbreak.”

“All paths lead to lessons learned—both good and bad. What matters is you’re here now and don’t have to live in the ‘what ifs’ anymore. Move on from Thad. Start over here in Wippowa. No one really knows you, so it’s a clean slate. Take chances. Step outside your comfort zone.”

There was a spark of something inside me.

“Maybe.”

YOU’RE LOSING ME

One Week Later

After my conversation with Charlie, something in me started to shift. I still felt unmoored, like a plastic bag caught in the wind, but I was beginning to surface—stepping out of my room for longer stretches, breathing in the world beyond my own walls.

Most afternoons now, I sit outside with Wren after school, coloring in the soft afternoon light. It’s a small thing, but it grounds me.

I’m not healed. The wounds still run deep, raw in ways I don’t fully understand. I don’t know if I’ll ever trust again—hell, if I’ll ever love again—but I’m taking it moment by moment. Some days, it feels like I’m drowning. Others, I catch glimpses of something lighter, something that almost feels like hope.

This afternoon, Wren is humming next to me, her legs swinging beneath the picnic table as she presses a blue crayon hard against the page. The sound of it scratches through the silence between us, and for once, I don’t mind. It’s comforting, in a way.