A black Mercedes had sped out of her drive four days ago, and I knew without asking who it was. So, when the dust cleared and I saw her on the porch, trembling hands covering her mouth, big green eyes wide and scared, I couldn’t help it. I ran to her, and she ran to me, and then she stole every ounce of confidence I had that I could let her go with just one kiss.
The nights had been harder since that day, because I knew she was leaving—in just three days—and the chances I’d ever see her again were about as good as winning the lottery. Our lives didn’t fit together, and yet I wanted her in mine. I wanted to be in hers.
But then I’d think back to Dani’s grave, when I let her go, and the sense of peace I had felt in that moment. Because as much as it was true that I’d miss Wren, it was also true that she hadn’t left my life without completely changing it—in possibly the best way anyone has ever changed my life. She’d opened my eyes again, and I’d never forget her for that.
Still, I was trying my best to at least get back some part of my routine before her. So, though the sun was nearly setting, Ron and I were still tinkering away on his old truck. I’d been there since sunrise, only running home for a brief lunch before getting right back to it.
Sometimes I wondered if Ron even needed his truck worked on. Did he just break parts here and there so we’d have something to do? Did he say he wanted upgrades that he truly couldn’t care less about? I didn’t know, and I didn’t ask, because I was thankful for the distraction, no matter how small it was.
“Momma Von stopped by while you were eating lunch earlier,” Ron said out of nowhere. We’d barely grunted out more than five words to each other all day, so the full sentence made me pause where my hands were working on the water pump.
“Yeah?”
“Mmm,” he answered. “Wanted to know if I could help her hang a going away sign out at Wren’s cabin here in a few days. Guess she’s heading back to the city, huh?”
I swallowed. “She is.”
Ron pushed out from under the truck, using the bumper to stand while I urged my hands to keep moving. They were frozen still.
“My Margie loved the city,” he said, leaning back against the front hood. He stared off down the drive while I stared at my hands. “She was so happy when we got stationed here in Washington. Don’t get me wrong, she was a good ol’ country girl,” he added with a smile. “But she loved the city. Used to con me into taking her to go dancing any time she could.”
Finally my hands shifted back to life, and I worked away while Ron leaned there beside me.
“Wren kind of reminds me of her,” he said, and though I was on edge, I pretended like I wasn’t, reaching into my toolbox for a different screwdriver and getting right back to my task. “She has the same bright blonde hair, same green eyes. My Margie was a little curvier, but hey, that’s how I liked her,” he added with a grin and a nudge to my elbow.
I smiled. “I bet she was something else.”
He nodded. “She was. She really was.”
He was quiet for a moment, but I felt heavier words waiting to be spoken. I wasn’t even sure what I was doing under that hood anymore.
“You know, Margie and our baby boy were taken from me much the way Dani was taken from you. And let me tell you, the healing I’ve seen you do this summer is more than I have done for myself in the twenty-eight years since I lost them. I know you still miss Dani, and that you love her, and that you’ll always have a hole in your heart from her leaving this Earth too soon. But you learned how to live again this summer,” he said, turning to face me. The setting sun cast a golden hue over his weathered features. “Wren showed you how, didn’t she?”
I tossed the screwdriver back in my box and reached for the dirty red rag that looked more pink now from days of use. I wiped my hands on it, keeping my eyes there as I answered him. “She did.”
“And now you’re just going to let her go?”
I gritted my teeth, wiping the last of the grease I could actually remove from my hands before tossing the rag back over my box. “I don’t really have a choice.”
“Bullshit.”
I finally looked at him, and his face was stone, jaw set. I shook my head and threw my hands out toward him.
“What am I supposed to do, Ron? She just got a divorce, she came here to get away from her life and find clarity. And I’m fucked up—in almost every possible way, but especially when it comes to relationships. I was a distraction and a release for her, just like she was a light of hope for me. We both needed each other this summer in different ways. But now the summer’s over, and she has to go, and I have to stay. So this is where it ends.”
“But why?” he probed, pushing off where he leaned on the truck to follow me around the garage as I cleaned up. “Did you ask her if she wants to live in Seattle forever? Did you ask yourself if you really wanted to stay here in Gold Bar? And so what if she just got a divorce or if you’ve been a zombie for seven years? Life doesn’t exactly give us what we need when it’s the perfect time. It’s not a pitching machine straight over the plate. Life throws curve balls—hard and fast, unpredictable. But you still have to hit that sucker or strike out swinging.”
I shut the hood of the truck, the sound echoing through Ron’s small garage, his words echoing between my ears.
“It’s not up to me. Wren doesn’t want this,” I said, throat constricting. “She’s still getting over her ex and trying to figure out who she is. She knows it won’t work, whatever it is that exists between us.”
“So show her that it can,” Ron insisted. “It’s okay that she’s still figuring out who she is. So are you. So are all of us, if I’m being honest. It’s not like she’s going to find the answer in an empty bed in Seattle. My bet is on the fact that she’s learned more about what makes her happy in the time she’s spent with you, because believe it or not, Anderson, you’ve got lessons to teach, too.”
I braced my hands on the hood of the truck, shoulders slumped and head hanging between them. I wasn’t sure I believed what he’d said, but I knew for a fact I believed the next words that came from his mouth.
“And don’t play down what you feel, either. Whatever it is is love, Anderson. I know because I’ve seen it before. I’ve lived it,” he reminded me, and this time it was his voice that was thick with emotion.
He waited for me to look at him, and when I saw the gloss over his eyes, it took my hands on the hood of the truck to keep my knees from buckling.
His bottom lip quivered a bit as he continued. “And let me tell you, if I’d had the chance to fight for my Margie, to go even one round with Death before he took her away... well, let’s just say either she’d still be here or I wouldn’t be. Because I wouldn’t have stopped fighting until she was in my arms or I was in hers.”
He sniffed, rubbing the back of his wrist under his nose before shaking his head just once. It was the most I’d ever heard him say, and he looked exhausted now that he’d said it. His eyelids were heavy, shoulders sagging, and he gave me one last pointed look before clapping me on the shoulder and disappearing inside his cabin.