Mom and Dad embrace on the front porch. Mom’s dark hair spills down her back. As she pulls away, Dad’s hand gets caught in a wave, causing Mom to tilt her head back and laugh. Dad leans in, kisses the side of her neck, and places his hands on her lower back. I hop over the railing, smiling. Dad’s eyes seem to glow as his smile stretches across his face. I love seeing my parents this way. Even Keegan, who’s working on his beat-up, fire engine-red car in the driveway, pauses to watch them. When they’re finished saying their good-byes, Dad hefts his briefcase into his car, blows us kisses, and drives away. I notice how Mom’s shoulders tense as soon as his vehicle disappears down the driveway.
I pad over and wrap my arm through hers. She looks at me, and a thin smile plays at the corner of her mouth. Worry lines etch across her forehead, but I know she’s trying to cover up her feelings. She’s a strong woman, and I admire her for that. I can only hope someday I’ll be like her.
“When will Dad come home again?” I ask.
“In a few days,” she says. She brings my hand to her lips and kisses it. “Maybe longer.”
I frown. “I hate when he leaves us.”
She pulls me in for a hug. Even now, the memory of her rose and honey perfume and the warmth of her flannel shirt comfort me. “I know, honey. Me too. It’s hard on all of us.” She sighs. “But he always comes back, and when he does, everything will be fine.” Yet, she doesn’t make eye contact with me.
“Mom?”
“Yes, dear?” she whispers, tucking a stray curl behind my ear.
“Is Dad the love of your life?”
She pulls away and looks me in the eyes. I watch as a smile, a real smile, creeps onto her lips. “Without a doubt.”
“So, how did you know he was the one?”
She sits on the top step and pulls me close to her side. “Your father is the most kind, honest, and hard-working man alive.” She turns toward me. “He swept me off my feet with his smile and his easygoing nature. He’s smart, but doesn’t treat others less. But you know that already because you’re so much like him.” She winks.
“But how did you know for sure?”
She raises an eyebrow and sighs deep. “I just knew; the way I felt when I was around him … It’s hard to explain. But one day, you’ll meet the one, and you’ll understand what I mean.” She kisses my cheek and hugs me tighter. I can hear the steadiness of her heart and the calm breaths moving in and out of her mouth “Lexi, you’re beautiful, so I’ve got no doubt you’ll meet lots of young men who will want to date you. But the right man for you is the one who makes you stronger.” She grabs my hand. “He’ll be kind. He’ll love you whether you’re having a good day or bad day. He’ll treat you like a lady, yet trust you to make your own decisions. Some will break your heart, but that’s part of learning the pain of what loving someone can bring. But the pain will lessen, and you’ll love again. And when that special guy comes into your life … you’ll be thankful for the ones who hurt you. Because the real guy will mend all the slashes your heart has endured.” She smiles. “That is exactly the kind of man your father is. He filled my heart with the greatest love there is. Honesty and trust.”
I lean my head against her shoulder and watch Keegan as he slides under his car. I hear him tinkering with something and occasionally cussing. I can’t help giggling over the words he strings together, even though I know they’re completely inappropriate. And Mom wouldn’t approve, but if she heard them, she doesn’t let on. A cool breeze ruffles the trees around our house. I breathe in the fresh smell of cut grass and impending rain. The porch creaks as I shift my position and face my mom again. I can see from the faraway expression on her face that she’s thinking of my dad. I squeeze her hand.
“Dad really is the best, isn’t he?”
“He sure is, darling, he sure is.”
My eyes snap open. I’ve been clenching my jaw so hard it’s sore. Remembering my mom that way seems weird now. I’d almost forgotten the sweet times we had before my dad passed. Maybe it’s better if I don’t reminisce too much.
I rub my face with both hands, wondering how long we’ve been lying in this sandy ditch. Cole’s head rests against my shoulder, his eyes closed and mouth slack. His clothing’s completely stuck to him, and he smells like rust and saltwater. We’re in desperate need of a change of clothes. I let my gaze run over his sand-caked skin, neat buzz cut, and long, brown lashes, which flutter occasionally in his sleep. He can’t be comfortable with his neck shanked that way. I brush his cheek with my hand, and his eyes open. He sits up ramrod straight.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” I tell him. “I’m sorry I woke you.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m glad you did,” he says. “How long was I out?”