The Perfect Homecoming (Pine River #3)

But wait! That’s not the freaky thing!

So get this—one day, I’m sitting in my room, staring out the window at the birdhouse Sam made and Dad put up so I could see some blue jays—who of course refuse to use our birdhouse, like they are staging some sort of birdhouse protest—and it just came to me. I mean, I suddenly felt all warm and gooey inside, and I had this epiphany, and what Granny Maria had said that day just jumped into my head, and I got it. It was like a door opened in me somewhere and light streamed in, and I got it.

She was telling me that it’s not dark on the other side, that there is light, bright warm light. And there are grass and trees and sunflowers and cows and dogs and places to run. And it’s all for me. There are no chairs, no feeding tubes, no breathing machines. There’s light. Lots and lots of light that goes on for infinity. And there’s me, running. My arms and legs are moving, and I can breathe and swallow, and I feel so damn free.

No shit, I could see all of this in my mind’s eye, I could see me running like Luke and I used to run across that meadow up at the ranch, racing each other. But the totally amazing thing is that I could actually feel it. I could feel my dead legs pumping and my dead lungs working, and I could feel my smile and I could hear my own laughter. You know what? I was happy. I was super happy!

I was running.





TWENTY-ONE

The St. Christopher medal did not go into the leather tote bag with the other things; Emma kept it with her. It wasn’t like those other meaningless things—she hadn’t traded a piece of herself for this one. In fact, this was actually the opposite of that. Cooper had tried to give her a piece of himself, and Emma had refused it. This time, the trinket meant something.

She couldn’t even reason why she’d taken it. To cling to a part of him? Whatever the reason, Emma couldn’t bear the examination of her motives. She was too appalled by what she’d done.

For the first few days after Cooper had left, Emma kept expecting his call demanding his medal. Oh, she knew he’d figured it out. He’d probably discovered it on the flight to LA. She had no idea what she’d say when he reached her. Sorry? No, she wouldn’t say that because she wasn’t sorry. She was ashamed, and that was not the same thing. It’s mine now? No, it was definitely his, and she intended to give it back, just as soon as she could.

But the funny thing was, Cooper didn’t call. And when he didn’t, Emma’s anxiety began to ratchet. She questioned everything that had happened between them. He’d said it was his good luck charm, that he’d carried it for years. Didn’t he want it back? Or was it more like the idea of having a good luck charm appealed, but that actual charm could be replaced? Maybe he’d had a dozen St. Christophers in his lifetime. Maybe he kept a dozen at home in case he lost one.

Or maybe the charm didn’t mean as much to him as he’d said, and he couldn’t care less if she had it or not. Maybe he really couldn’t care less about her, and he’d said those things—those things that were now firmly lodged in her heart—in order to get sex. Could she have really imagined the connection between them? Had she manufactured the thing that had flowed between their fingers and their eyes, turning back on itself and looping again? Was she really so out of touch with the truth of her emotions?

And she suffered the worst doubt—that he was really just like the others. That was more disappointment than Emma could bear, and she hoped to God it wasn’t true.

It seemed liked a lifetime had passed since Cooper had left, and since Leo had returned from Denver and the hospital, weaker than before he’d gone, the toll of another seizure evident in the way he looked and felt. Since he’d been back, Emma had lain in bed with Leo, watching TV. He wasn’t his usual chatty self, other than his ongoing post-game analysis of why the Broncos lost. But even that—armchair coaching, his favorite pastime—was a chore for him. Emma didn’t like the lines of worry around Bob’s eyes, or the way Dani chewed her lip when she came to visit. She didn’t like that Marisol was coming by every day, standing at the foot of his bed with her hand on Leo’s leg. She didn’t like any of it. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair.