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Cass stared at Joe’s hand for maybe a second longer than he should, the heaviness of the phone in his pocket making him hesitate. It should buzz. It should buzz now, soon, with a short text back from Ash. Hey, yep, sorry! Just got busy yesterday! And then they’d carry on chatting about whatever it was they’d been chatting about. Bagels, he thought it was. Yeah. Ash insisting that bagels should be considered an essential food group. But it didn’t. His phone stayed still and silent.

Joe stepped closer, the eagerness in his eyes perfectly clear. “The flowers are a little much, I know, but—”

With a smile, Cass shook his head. “No, I, uh . . . I’m just . . .” He really wasn’t even quite sure what to say, and so instead, he just reached out and took Joe’s hand. It was a pleasant feeling. All warmth and softness. And Joe’s smile deepened. He gave Cass a gentle squeeze and then guided him the rest of the way to the table, let his hand go, and pulled out the chair for him. Cass felt heat rise in his cheeks. “You don’t have to do all this, you know.”

“I know. But I want to.”

The words were said with a complete sincerity that Cass could feel, and he dipped his chin and nodded. Then he took his seat and tried to push away all of his anxious thoughts about his friend from Seattle so he could enjoy the rest of his evening with Joe.

Shaina (Sunday, January 2, 2022 – 12:45 p.m.): Just landed at LAX

Shaina (3:26 p.m.): Call me anytime, day or night or whatever, for any reason at all. I’ll answer. I love you. YOU CAN DO THIS

Chapter Seventeen

Ash

“You’re sure she’ll be okay? Maybe I should stay for a bit, just to be sure, or—”

Ash’s frown deepened as he twisted again to look through the window into the infant room. A sweet, older-looking woman was cradling Bri, rocking her gently as they moved around the room. There were two other infants in the room with her—one was in a crib, napping quietly, and the other was lying on their stomach on a colorful rug, trying to pull their knees up under them. Bri’s eyes were wide, and she had one hand stuffed in her mouth, but she wasn’t crying or upset. In fact, she looked perfectly fine. And somehow, that bothered Ash almost as much as the thought of her crying.

“It’s completely normal to be worried.” The woman at the front desk, whose name Ash couldn’t remember, stood and joined him near the window. Ash glanced at her and saw her looking in at Bri, a soft smile on her face. “But I’m sure she’s going to be just fine. Lorraine is really wonderful with all of them. She’ll take very good care of your daughter, and—”

“She’s my niece,” Ash corrected immediately, an all-too-familiar nausea rising up in his chest. He quickly shook his head. “Sorry, I just, um . . . This isn’t easy.”

“Oh, I understand, dear, believe me,” the woman said gently. She stayed there with him for another moment and then stepped away, back to the desk, as though giving him the little bit of space he needed.

He wasn’t okay. At all. He wasn’t okay with leaving Bri with these strangers, who seemed completely wonderful but were still strangers, and he wasn’t okay with knowing it would be nearly four hours until he’d see her again. And he just wasn’t okay, in general. He was so close to breaking down, probably for good this time.

He’d been a mess since Christmas. Well, since mid-November, really. But Christmas had torn him apart more, if that was even possible.

He cleared his throat and forced himself away from the window. “So, I have two classes this morning, but I’ll be back just after noon. Can I, um . . .” He trailed off as the woman smiled and nodded.

“Feel free to call and check on her at any time,” she replied, as though she’d known exactly what Ash had been about to ask. “I’ll be here, or Susan might. We can even put you through to talk to Lorraine if she’s not busy.”

The lump in his throat didn’t go away, but Ash nodded anyway. He needed to get to school, because he needed to do well in his classes so he could graduate, then get his master’s, then get a decent job—all to ensure Bri would have the best life possible. And so, he needed to leave. His first morning class started in only—he glanced at the clock on the wall—twenty minutes, which gave him barely enough time for the walk across campus.

With a final look into the infant room, Ash took a deep breath in some lame, unsuccessful attempt to steady himself. Then he shifted his backpack on his back, shoved his hands into his pockets, and headed for the door.

The chill of the early January morning bit at his ears and nose as he walked, head down. He crossed Pacific and weaved his way through the walkways of the campus, and as he did, he found himself wishing he felt even the tiniest shred of optimism. After all, several very important things had fallen into place in the last week and a half, starting with Joanna helping him navigate Washington state’s government-assistance programs. Even with the poor timing of the holiday season, he’d applied and quickly been approved for a heavily subsidized childcare program, making something as impossible as affording daycare for Bri actually quite manageable. Then, he and Shaina had toured several daycare facilities, and he’d lucked out in that department, too, just barely squeaking in when an opening became available at his number-one choice—a highly regarded daycare center right near both his apartment and campus.

He should be happy about all of that.

Yet every single thing that went right was just another reminder of how much had gone wrong.

There was an underlying hurt to everything he did now, and while realistically, he knew it hadn’t been that long and healing from grief and loss took time—hell, he’d been through it before when his parents had passed—this pain didn’t seem like it was going anywhere anytime soon. Especially because he didn’t have the time and space to actually deal with it.

Every waking moment he had was spent taking care of Bri, studying, cooking, cleaning, shopping, budgeting. Every night, he collapsed into bed, desperately hoping Bri would sleep so he could sleep. Every day, he was exhausted beyond belief, and any time his thoughts strayed at all to his sister, it was like his heart broke all over again. And since Bri, even at not quite five months now, looked exactly like her mom, those moments happened much, much too often.

Shaina had helped him schedule an appointment with a therapist, which he knew he desperately needed, and yet, even that had been derailed when Bri had gotten sick right before Christmas. He hadn’t gotten a chance to reschedule yet.

He rounded a corner and pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time, his stomach clenching as it did whenever he looked at his phone now. Because that was another thing that had happened.

Christmas Day. An ordinary text from Cass. Words that hadn’t been meant to hurt but that had been yet another reminder of his loss at an already much-too-difficult time.

Awww, baby’s first Christmas!

Ash’s steps stuttered, and he gripped his phone tighter.