Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 106538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106538 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
“What if she’s not?” I might be crossing a line, but I have to know. If Maren doesn’t make it, and I didn’t do everything I could to get to her, I would never forgive myself.
Lola’s blue eyes fill with tears, but she doesn’t do the grown-up thing of hiding them. With one blink, the big drops of emotion fall down her face.
“Lola.” I squat in front of her, taking her hands in mine. “If something happened to me at work, and I got hurt really badly, would you want the ambulance to take me to the hospital to save my life?”
She sniffles, blinking out a new round of tears. Her lack of an immediate answer shows me how underdeveloped her ten-year-old brain is, even if she’s smart for her age. Lola can’t reason this properly. My question shouldn’t require much thought, but it does for her.
“The answer is yes, Lola. Of course you’d want me to go to the hospital. The same way I’d want you to go to the hospital in an ambulance if you were hurt. And if I were at the hospital, and you knew there was a chance I could die, wouldn’t you want to come tell me goodbye?”
“I’d ride my bike.” She pulls her hands from mine and wipes her tears, but her lower lip quivers.
“What if you couldn’t? What if the hospital were too far away?”
“It . . .” She shakes her head while tugging at her hair. “It doesn’t matter because it’s not real. Stop making me feel bad. You promised you would never make me feel bad. You promised you would never make me get into a car. And you promised you would never get into one either.”
“Lola, sometimes people have to break their promises.”
She releases her hair and balls her hands at her side. “No. You don’t have to break your promise. Maren’s coming home. She’s going to be f—”
“Lola, you don’t know that!”
Lola jumps, eyes wide and refilling with tears.
I sigh, turning my back to her and lacing my fingers behind my neck as she releases tiny sobs behind me. “Lola.” I turn back toward her, lowering my voice. “I love Maren. My feelings for her are like the feelings I had for your mom. It’s not the way I love you. Nothing can compare to how a parent loves their child, but my love for Maren is strong. My heart hurts so much right now. And I’m not saying any of this to make you feel guilty or to pressure you into being okay with me flying to Canada to see her. If you can’t handle this, if it’s too much, then I won’t go. And I’ll never make you feel bad about it, no matter what happens to Maren. But I have to be honest by telling you I want to go, or I’ll regret not having this conversation, not trying. And I’ve told you to live without regrets, so I must do the same.”
Tears cover her red cheeks, and that adorable lip won’t stop quivering. It’s all very heartbreaking.
“I-is it o-okay if you d-don’t go?” It’s not just her lip; her whole body is shaking. “She’ll b-be f-fine. I p-promise. If God w-wanted her now, H-He would have t-taken her.”
I lower to my knees and wrap her tightly in my embrace. The world is big, but my world fits perfectly in my arms. She always will.
“I’ll stay,” I whisper in her ear.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Maren
When I was thirteen, I got a remote-controlled airplane for Christmas. Brandon wanted to try it the following spring, and he crashed it. So my dad made him buy me another one. It took all his money and a two-hundred-dollar loan from my parents. My brother swore I’d eventually crash it too.
I didn’t.
I was a natural. Dad said it was my delicate touch. Sometimes, the wind would get a hold of it as I tried to land it, and he’d say, Gentle, Mare. Don’t panic. If you panic, you’ll crash. If you stay calm, you’ll find a suitable place to land it. Easy. Stay calm. That’s it. You’ve got this.
Sometimes, that suitable place was a tree. Once, it was a pond. And more times than I could count, I landed it in a cornfield. Sure, there were a few scratches and the occasional repairs needed, but I never nose-dived the eight-hundred-dollar toy into the driveway, as Brandon had done.
Gentle, Mare.
Don’t panic.
Easy. Stay calm.
You’ve got this.
Over my years of crop-dusting and fighting fires, I’ve repeatedly replayed my dad’s words in my head, but now I hear his voice, and it’s not in my head. I don’t know where it’s coming from.
“My sweet girl, you’re it. You’re all we have left. I know you’ve been hell bent on chasing Brandon, but now is not the time. This is not your time. I won’t give you my blessing to leave us. Do you hear me?”