Her forehead touches mine, and I wrap my arms around her waist. “I don’t know how much longer I’ve got, but I’m holding on for dear life.” She kisses my forehead again and stares into my eyes. “I need to know you’re okay. Before I go, I have to know Bubba and Johnny are here, and that you’re going to be happy.”
“I will be,” I whisper. “Once I get them back, I promise, I’m going to be happy. You don’t have to be scared about that.” Around me, the rainbow road goes dark in the distance, and the darkness slowly creeps in. “I’m going to be okay with them, but I don’t know how to be okay without you. I don’t know how to be in a world without you.” I guide her hand to my heart. “You’ve been here all my life. How do I keep going when you’re not here anymore?”
“Oh, Ezra. I’m always in your heart. Even when I’m not warming it anymore, I’m still there. I’m part of you.” She touches her tummy. “I made you, baby. I carried you right here, and I baked you from scratch. Even if I’m gone, my love never is, because I poured my heart into you for nine straight months.” She gives me a final kiss on the cheek before pulling me in for a hug as the darkness creeps up around us. “I am so very proud you. Momma loves you, baby.”
“I love you,” I tell her, needing her to hear it again. I don’t know how much longer we’ve got, because I feel myself stirring in my sleep. So, I tell her again. I say it so many times it feels like the only soundsleft in the world are my weak, shattered words, and the way she says them back on an endless loop.
“I love you, Ezra. I always will.”
My heart is breaking in my chest, but I still feel Mom’s warmth, so I know she isn’t gone yet. If she wants to see me happy, there’s only one way to guarantee it. A sure-fire HEA to save the day. In order to get my happy ending, I’m going to have to remind Bubba and Johnny why they love me so much, and whythey should never let me go.
Cue the theatrics.
“You call that a high kick? For God’s sake, Evangeline, we’ve practiced this at least sixty times.”
“My name ain’t Evangeline, it’s Maybelline, and we ain’t never practiced this dance before. You just woke me up, dragged me out to the field, and told me to dance like my life depends on it. I don’t even know what the heck that means.”
“Yes, well, you’re easily twenty-six years old. If you need me to give you step-by-step instructions, I don’t know what to tell you.”
She furrows her brows. “I’m six. I’ve said it a whole bunch of times.”
“Six going on sixty. And don’t think I didn’t see the way you half-assed your backflip. Honest to God, it’s a wonder you didn’t fall flat on your face.”
“I already told you, I don’t know nothing about tumbling. I didn’t even want to do this, Momma and Mamaw are making me.”
I gape at her, because that makes no sense whatsoever. When I mentioned it to her, she was goddamn giddy. She went around to the family at the dinner table, one by one, telling them she was going to be a quote-unquote Las Vegas showgirl. I don’t know how the fuck she knows what about Las Vegas showgirls when no one here even knows what a Tylenol is, but it’s another mystery for another day. Right now, I’m stuck on the fact she doesn’t want to be here.
“You don’t want to do this? You seemed so enthused when I asked.”
She shrugs. “I don’t like the dancing, but I like hanging out with you. You’re fun.”
“I am?”
“Yeah. You make funny faces and say stupid stuff.”
“I don’t say stupid stuff.”
“All you ever say is stupid stuff.” She hops up from where she’s lying on the ground, places her hands on her hips Wonder Woman style, and gives me a decided nod like she’s more sure of this than she’s ever been sure of anything. “I bet you’re thinking of something real stupid to say right now, aren’t you?”
I scowl at her. “I am not.”
She thumps my nose. “Are too. That’s okay though, Ezra. I don’t mind when you say stupid stuff. You always sound real pretty when you say it.”
I hold a hand over my heart. “Be still my beating heart. What a lovely thing to say. Thank you, Mistress Maybelline.”
“You’ve got real neat hair. Did someone ever tell you that?”
I can’t argue with facts, so I just nod. “A few men, actually. I used to use a lot of product in it. You know, before your father and Mamacita—”
“Mamaw,” she corrects me.
“Mamaw,” I agree. “Before your father and mamaw kidnapped me. I’m feeling a bit lost without it, to be completely honest.”
Her smile stretches wider across her face. “I love when you talk like that. Like something out of a book. We only got three books, and they’re all real boring, but the words are pretty sometimes, when Momma reads them to me. You’re gonna make a really good husband, and I promise, I’m gonna be the best wife ever.”
“Oh, Jesus. Not this again.”
“And we’ll get married by the mud puddle, just past the cornfield. We can wear rubber boots.”
