The wind cut sharply across the street, smoke still curling up from the wreckage as the fire crews battled the last of the stubborn flames. The sirens had quieted, but the crackle of ruin still echoed in every corner of my mind.
Eunice and Vance Wilder came rushing up in pajamas and tightly wrapped robes, faces drawn with worry. They didn’t speak at first, only pulled each of us close, as if they could somehow shield us from what we’d already seen.
In hushed tones, Eunice took Magnolia aside, her voice low. Vance did the same with Lee, his hand firm on his son’s shoulder, nodding as if already forming a plan—whether to rebuild the bar, find Dane, or simply figure out how to keep us all standing.
“Y’all come on back to the house,” Vance said after a beat, loud enough for all of us to hear.
I looked to Magnolia, needing her cue. Her eyes were flat, her shoulders slumped, the fight gone out of her. She gave the barest shake of her head.
“All right,” I said. “The fire chief wants to talk to us anyway.”
She didn’t argue as she stared back at the crumbling shell of the bar like she was watching a funeral.
As the Wilders led us to their car, I turned for one last look.
O’Malley’s stood in ruin—smoke curling from the remnants of the collapsed second floor, windows blackened, the old neon sign hanging sideways like it, too, had given up. The whole place looked like the life had been sucked out of it—like it had been sucked out of my sister.
It wasn’t only a bar. It was where my momma was born. This is where I said goodbye to my parents, where I climbed the narrow stairs to that stifling little apartment and tried to piece together a life after everything fell apart.
And now, watching it burn, it felt like everything had fallen apart all over again.
Like maybe the life had been sucked out of me, too.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
TALLY
ItwasfreezinginNewnan, the kind of cold that bit through your gloves and stung your lungs a little when you breathed in too fast.
I wasn’t sure what I was doing in town, other than trying not to go completely stir-crazy in my parents’ mausoleum of a house. The McMansion, as Dig had so lovingly dubbed it years ago, had too many rooms and not enough warmth. My bedroom might’ve been a tomb to my youth, but nothing else in that house made me feel like I belonged. Not anymore. Maybe not ever.
I passed the square and slowed, the giant glittering New Year’s display still half up in the plaza. Most of the folks were at work,or enjoying the last few, blissful days of their holiday break, but a young couple sat huddled on a bench, wrapped in matching scarves, bouncing a squishy, wide-eyed baby on their knees. Every time the baby squealed, they’d look at each other and laugh, really, trulylaugh, like being parents was the funniest, best thing that had ever happened to them.
And I stood there like a creeper, watching.
It hit me harder than I expected. Not jealousy. Not even regret. But a sharp ache for what I’d never really had, but still wanted the chance to make right.
I bought a hot chocolate from the café on the corner, even though it was more whipped cream than anything, and wandered toward the gazebo at the far end of the park. It had been rebuilt since the infamous ride-on mower incident of my youth, and the freshly painted white wood gleamed against the gray sky.
I sat carefully on the bench, both hands wrapped around my cup, the warm cardboard pressed to my ribs.
Nancy Reagan curled up at my feet, her fluffy head on my boots.
“Okay, baby Aden,” I said softly, pressing a palm over the curve of my belly. “Here’s the deal.”
My breath came out in a little cloud. The wind rushed past the gazebo, rattling the tiny lights still strung up from the holidays.
“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. But I’m gonna figure it out. Not because of your dad, or your grandparents, or whatever the universe thinks it’s got planned for us.” I blinked up at the sky. “Because ofyou.Because you deserve to be somebody’s everything. And I’m gonna be that person. Messy, dramatic, broke... but yours. Always yours.”
A tear slid down my cheek, but I didn’t wipe it away.
“I’m gonna be the kind of mom who dances in the kitchen with you. Who reads every book you love, even the weird ones withthe scratchy textures. Who teaches you how to be soft and brave and loud and kind. And when you fall—because you will—I’ll be right there, steadying you. Just like I’m trying to steady myself now.”
I paused, pressing the cup to my lips. It tasted like fake cocoa powder. But it was warm.
“I love you already, kid. That’s the thing no one ever tells you. You fall in love with someone who hasn’t even arrived yet. And it changes everything.”
Nancy let out a huff, as if she agreed.
