"I know, but I'm just not hungry, baby." I leaned my head on her shoulder. It felt good to have my children again—good to have Gray here. It was as if Malou had orchestrated the last days of her life so I could repair my family, bring us together.
"She told me she was your guardian angel, and you were hers," Willow whispered, stroking my hair.
"Some guardian angel I was."
"Fuck cancer."
"Yeah," I chuckled.
"Mike's sorry he couldn't be here."
"I know, he called me this morning. He liked Malou too. Everyone liked her. You couldn't not."
"Just like you, Mama." Willow rocked us. "You're loved by everyone, you know that? Mike. Even Uncle Holden."
"But not Bonnie," I pointed out teasingly.
"Well, Aunt Bonnie is a Big B."
I laughed.
"And Grandma was a piece of work."
"True."
We stood watching the waves of the Atlantic quietly for a short while.
"Mama," Willow broke the silence, "I love you."
"I love you too, my baby."
"No, Mama, Iloveyou. You taught us to say that to each other, but it's been a while since I realized I said that to you because I just stopped spending time with you. But I wanted you to know that without you, we wouldn't be the family that hugsand kisses and says I love you. We'd be like Uncle Holden and Aunt Bonnie with children who're starved for affection."
"We look ahead," I said softly. "No looking back anymore."
"You have thebiggest heart."
"You, Jude and Gray have helped me become who I am."
"And Malou."
"She was the sister of my heart. I'm going to miss her so much." I broke down into tears, and Willow held me. Soon, I felt Jude's arms around me and then Gray's. We stood together as a family, holding each other, grieving.
THIRTY-TWO
GRAY
A month later, on a warm February day, we laid Malou's ashes to rest, offering our final farewells.
The sun spread a brilliant sheen over the ocean, transforming the water into a sprawling canvas of gold and azure. It was a surprisingly warm day for the time of year, and the breeze carried the scent of salt and the faint call of seabirds overhead. Rose and I stood side by side on the deck of the small boat we had hired for the day, our hands linked, both of us facing the horizon with a blend of resolve and quiet reflection.
As the captain steered us to a spot that Malou had always loved—a peaceful stretch of water where dolphins were often seen—I felt an undercurrent of serenity amidst the waves of emotion. It was here, surrounded by the vastness of the sea, that we intended to honor Malou's final wish of joining the sea.
Rose handed me the urn, her fingers lingering on the smooth surface before letting go. Together, we opened it, and as we scattered Malou's ashes into the sea, the ocean seemed to welcome her with open arms, the sparkling waters a fitting tribute to her vibrant spirit.
"We'll miss you, Malou," I said quietly. The wind swept my farewell away. Rose squeezed my hand, her eyes glistening with unshed tears but shining with a fierce, quiet gratitude.
"Life is too short," Rose murmured, leaning her head against my shoulder. "We need to live, Gray. Really live. Not just for us, but for her, too."
