He shoves me, and I laugh. Damn, it feels good to loosen up and be here. It’s one place I don’t tend to feel so bogged down with what Ishouldbe doing.
“Despite your attitude problem and your Juniper View superiority complex, I forgive you and I’m glad to see you.” He smiles, then his head snaps to the side and in a heartbeat, he’s running.
Not running, butsprintingtoward a woman who’s exiting her vehicle. I recognize her as his wife, Liz, and she’s grinning just as widely as he no doubt is.
In seconds, he reaches her, hauls her into his arms, and kisses her. I watch for a beat longer than I probably should, then realize I’m being a creep and turn away.
“All this monogamy’s gonna make me ill,” Ethan mutters.
“You have a problem with monogamy?” Kieran, my typically broody, quiet cousin asks.
Granted, lately he’s been considerably less broody.
Ethan glances over at Kenny and Liz, still locked in an embrace. When he turns back, he sighs. “Other than envying it, I don’t suppose I do.”
Kieran and I exchange a look. Ethan tends to be rather sunny, so this tone from him is unusual.
“I get that.” Kieran slings his bag over one shoulder. “I certainly do.”
Ethan takes off, and Kieran does soon after, but not before I tell him he should come to Friday dinner. It’s terrible timing for him since his primary work is bartending at his family’s pub and weekend nights are the busiest, of course. But he promises he’ll try to make it over to JV soon, and with the woman who’s got him considerably less closed off.
And then it’s just me, loading up my bag, trying to ignore the pangs of longing and envy. I wouldn’t wish for Kenny or Eddie or Wilder or Adam oranyof these peoplenotto have their person.
I’m hit with the inescapable reality that I want that for myself. It rams into me, square in the chest.
In my time with Michelle, that’s where I thought we’d end up. Neither of us was in a hurry. We were committed, but I didn’t realize we didn’t have a future together until she left. And it wasn’t simply that we didn’t have a future—it was that I hadn’t actually planned for or even anticipated the future with her. I’d taken it as a foregone conclusion and likely made her feel unwanted. I kept thinking maybe after the next deployment, next leave period, in the new year… at some future point, we’d reevaluate and make a plan. We were so comfortable together, and committed, but not married. Not everyone takes that step, but it’s also something I assumed I’d do one day after growing up with parents who were basically obsessed with each other.
I hadn’t recognized my desire for closeness and devotion like I see these friends enjoying until the possibility of it was ripped away. Reeling from the death of my friends, havingtwo kids I wasn’t sure I knew how to love, I looked up a few days into everything and asked her if she wanted to get married. Like a complete idiot, I folded her into the mess instead of making her feel special, loved, and chosen outside of the crisis.
After that, my focus shifted to keeping two small humans alive and figuring out how to braid hair and pack lunches and hold the three of us together long enough to make it back to JV.
My watch beeps, notifying me of the time, and I pick up my pace. I can get a few hours of work in before it’s time to get the girls before dinner.
And in the meantime, I can practice being happy. Why should I be ungrateful and soppy when I have two amazing daughters who love me? Why would I ever feel so wistful when I’ve been given a life far fuller than I could’ve cobbled together on my own?
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Grant
Brian saunters in and sets a cup of coffee down in front of me.
My side eye has him holding up his hands before I even speak.
“I know, I know. I would never dare to get coffee anywhere other than Corner Coffee, but it was closed.”
My gaze narrows. “Closed? May never closes this time of day.” Saturdays are her bread and butter. Normally, I’d grab a coffee after soccer, but I’m off. Finn was MIA, I’ve had too many deep thoughts about life for one morning, and burying my face in some work felt like the best option.
He shrugs. “Well, there was a little sign with a clock on it that said We’ll be back! and said noon. So, I had to go over to The Pizza Shop, and what did I hear but the old vets gossiping about how the ‘pretty new waitress’ was out with your little brother earlier.”
I blink. “Dec?”
I just saw him. He would’ve mentioned seeing her, wouldn’t he?
He seems pleased with this response. “Nah, Finn, of course. He is a charmer, that’s for sure.”
My attention shifts back to the computer in front of me and I continue the slow work on a report I need to present to the county commission at the end of the quarter.
Did Finn skip soccer practice for a date with Sam? That doesn’t make sense. He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t miss soccer for a date, for one, and he wouldn’t… he wouldn’t date Sam.
