I ran my fingers over the hem of my polyester uniform, the skirt above my knees. “I like long drives and slow dancing and summer nights.”
He turned up the music and got out of the truck, and I closed my eyes, knowing what would happen next. Because I knew Ledger. Knew that he was the part of my heart I’d been missing. He opened my door and took my hand, and we danced under the stars.
“You’re crazy,” I told him, my heart catching in my throat. Scared. Everything I knew about men was bad. And you don’t slow dance with a girl you just met, under a swollen moon, unless you’re trouble.
“There are worse things to be,” he said, spinning me around the parking lot.
“Like being alone,” I told him, voice cracking, unable to hide my emotions. Not wanting to. He held my gaze and he understood. That giving my heart to someone was no simple thing. It was everything.
“You ever been in love?” he asked, his lips brushing against my ear.
“No.”
“But you believe in it?”
I nodded, looking up at him, his hands slipping tighter around my waist, drawing me close. “I believe in all sorts of miracles.”
He blinked back emotion then — but I saw the tears before he pushed them away. “So do I, Penny.”
The song ended and I stepped back. Knowing what was going to happen next didn’t need to take place at the diner, I slid into the passenger seat, my heart racing.
“You always so skittish?” he asked, putting the truck in reverse.
I frowned. “I’m not skittish.”
“You jumped like a rabbit.”
“No. That was me being excited.”
He laughed. “You always so honest?”
I nodded. “Always.”
“Good.”
“Are you?”
“I try to be.” Ledger drove me to his motel, parked the truck. Killed the engine. “I don’t do things halfway, Penny Carpenter. When I want something, I go all in.”
“And you want me?”
He clenched his jaw, a smile impossible to suppress. “So damn bad.” He took my hand in his and we walked to his room. Outside the door, he asked if I was sure.
“I’ve never been so sure in my life.” It was the truth. I was so good at doubting who I was, what I was… Inside, I felt destined for big, beautiful things, but on the outside, I was a girl who didn’t come from much and who just wanted a man to love her. Really, truly love her.
“What are you doing in Riverport?” I asked him, sitting on the edge of the motel bed.
“On my way home,” he said. “Passing through town.”
“And where is home?”
He sat down next to me on the bed, the weight of his body causing the cheap mattress to dip. Forcing me to fall closer to him. I was glad. I wanted to be closer. Close enough to kiss.
“Home isn’t a place, it’s a state of mind.”
I smiled. “And your state of mind, Ledger, where is that?”
His lips met mine then, and we knew — we both did. All it took was one kiss and he’d come home. Ledger’s place was with me.
“It’s going to be okay,” Cheryl says, driving toward my house, turning left down my street. “He’s going to make it.”
She grips the steering wheel so tight her knuckles have turned white. Her words don’t comfort me at all because I saw the truck on the television screen. Destroyed and broken, just like all of our plans.
“You truly believe that?” I ask as my house comes into view — the house I share with the man I love, the man who is my home.
“I’m choosing to,” Cheryl says. “Penny, you have to be strong. For the twins.”
“I know I do,” I say, my shoulders shaking. “But I’m not sure I know how.”
Cheryl parks in my driveway and it feels like the world has shifted again. Like the night Ledger and I met.
It feels like I’m falling again. But this time it’s not love, it’s loss.
And Ledger won’t be there to catch me.
Chapter Four
Bethany watches from her front yard as Cheryl drops me off. She’s barefoot with Neva tied to her chest in a sling. Even from my driveway, I see the concern in her eyes, the questions. “Will you go tell her?” I ask, pushing open the door of the Fiesta. “I can’t deal with people, even my best friends.”
“Of course,” Cheryl says. Her eyes are rimmed with red, and she turns off the car. “You take care of yourself, Penny. Know we’re all here for you.”
Numb, I step over the green hose that winds around the half-dead grass of my lawn. The chipped paint on the front door is not exactly welcoming, but certainly familiar. Inside my house, I groan, realizing I left the fans off this morning. The air is thick; the heat of the summer day persistent.
At the kitchen counter next to the fridge, I move aside the bowl of bruised apples I got at the Grocery Outlet and plug my phone into the charger, triple-checking that it’s on full volume. I’m unable to process that Ledger won’t be texting and apologizing for not calling sooner. That he won’t tell me his phone died and he forgot to plug it in. That he loves me. That he loves Tiny and Benny. That he will be home soon.
So soon.
That he’s only four hours away and that maybe we should get pizza from Romeo’s tonight. He always orders extra cheese because that’s what the twins love most.
It’s impossible to believe he won’t send another text two minutes later with emojis peppered with innuendo that make me blush and lick my lips, that make me think yes, thank God, he is coming home. Because being on the road for two weeks is two weeks too long. I miss him.
The front door opens and I startle, phone bouncing from my hands. My silent prayer that it will ring goes unanswered and I set it down, bracing myself for the onslaught of whatever comes next. Breaking my children’s hearts; cracking them both open with a single sentence that can never, ever be taken back.
Mom rounds the corner, her face ashen, dropping her purse to the floor. She’s the strongest woman I’ve ever known, but no one is strong enough for this. And she covers her mouth, gasping when she sees me. The kids are in their swimsuits, wet hair leaving droplets of water on the floor, as if my mother just pulled them from the pool. I wish that we could all go back to the complex, jump in the swimming pool, and splash all day. I wish I could let them be children but that is all about to change.
I can’t protect them, and it’s all I want. To keep them safe. Innocent. For just a minute longer. But more than that, I need them in my arms, breathing them in, refusing to let them go.
I fall to my knees and draw them close. My uniform clings to me the way I cling to them. My children need a father. Ledger has to be alive.
“I haven’t told them yet,” Mom says.
“What happened?” Benny asks in a whisper, his green eyes round and glassy.
Tiny’s slender shoulders shake. I squeeze them harder. I know they are scared but I’m scared too and I don’t want to do this alone. I need Ledger.
“Papa was in an accident,” I say, my voice catching on the words as they leave my mouth. “A very bad accident.”