Page 19 of Beneath Southern Stars

He’s quiet for a few minutes, my words floating between us. Maybe I overstepped. But I don’t think so. In my heart I knowthis is a topic we’re meant to discuss. A way I can offer support without any questions.

“Losing Katie was difficult for us all but for Pepper, I can only imagine how complicated the process is in her mind. As an adult, I have struggled. Anticipatory grief our therapist calls it. From the day the doctors said no more treatments were available, I began mourning the loss. We can only assume Pepper did the same without us realizing it.”

“The withdrawing?” I ask. He acknowledges with a hum. “I had just turned nine when my parents passed. Some days I can feel the emotions as if it happened yesterday. Be patient with her. Keep doing what you’re doing, and she’ll find her way through the feelings.”

Ryan looks at me, his brows slightly furrowed but only compassion in his eyes. My breath hitches and I have to hold myself back from leaning forward. It’s a pull between us I’ll think about later. Or not. It’s probably best to ignore it completely.

Instead, I share my story.

“It was spring, and my parents were out of town celebrating their tenth wedding anniversary. Staying with my grandparents wasn’t anything new but that weekend was special for me and Gran. It was summer bulb planting. Lilies and dahlias were my favorite flowers back then and I looked forward to starting the process that eventually lead to their blossoms. Of course, Grandaddy and I had plans to sneak out after lunch for ice cream sundaes at Frozen Spoon. Except, when I stumbled into the kitchen for breakfast, there was no sausage sizzling on the stove and no biscuits baking in the oven. My grandparents were sitting at the table with mugs of coffee in their hands speaking in whispers. I knew as soon as I stepped into the room that something was wrong.”

I take another sip of wine and close my eyes, thinking of my parents and how happy they were driving away that afternoon.Never did I expect it to be the last hug and kiss they ever gave me. If I could go back, I would hold tight a little longer. Ask them to stay. Beg them not to leave me.

“It’s funny that you’re here from Nashville. That’s where they were headed. Gran told me once that Mom had always dreamed of seeing the Opry so when Dad presented her with the trip she was over the moon. She said he’d made her dreams come true in so many ways, but other than having me, the Opry was probably the highlight of their relationship. That probably seems silly to you.”

Ryan shakes his head. “Not at all. The Opry is iconic and everyone should experience it.”

“Says the man who has performed on the stage.”

His hand taps my knee in jest and I giggle at the feeling. “I still cannot believe they asked me. It was a surreal moment to say the least. An honor I’ll never take for granted. But long before I was playing before an audience, I wasinthe audience. It’s a wonderful memory.”

“I’m sure my parents would agree with you. At least I like to think they would. Unfortunately, we’ll never know. Sometime that Saturday morning, they left the city and were part of a multi-car accident. It was years before I really knew what happened. A storm, poor visibility, and a jack-knifed big rig started a chain reaction that my parents were part of. Dad was gone on impact, but Mom was taken to the hospital only to pass shortly after arriving.”

As with most times I think of losing my parents, the tears fall freely. I’ve learned it’s okay to let them. Crying helps me express and feel the loss and not push it down. I need to walk with the emotions or they’ll break me. The calloused pad of Ryan’s thumb gently captures a tear, his hand cupping my cheek. It’s an intimate movement and not at all unwelcome.

“I am so sorry you experienced that kind of loss. No child should have to suffer that kind of pain.”

His voice is soft and gentle. Warmth and understanding in each word. Maybe that’s why I lean forward. Wanting to bask in the warmth of his embrace. Whatever the reason, I don’t pull back when he meets me halfway. My heart racing is the only thing keeping me grounded when his lips brush mine. It’s chaste. Barely a whisper of a touch. The contact sends a surge through my body in a way I’ve never felt before.

Before I can question what is happening, Ryan leans forward, the bottle in his hand clanking on the deck before he takes the wine glass from my hand. His free hand slips around my side, pulling me close to him. I slide my hands around his neck, gripping the hair at the nape of his neck, needing to feel him in ways I’ve never wanted before. Maybe it was the banter and barbs we shared early on or the way he listened to my story without judgment, but being in his arms feels like coming home. Every nerve in my body is activated and a need deep in my core is awakened. Our tongues speak for us and what they say should frighten me.

I never believed my friends when they said a kiss could flip your world upside down. I’d never had one of those moments with past relationships. Always believing they were making things up. There was no such fairytale feeling. Except, it’s happening now, in this moment with Ryan. Being in his arms is like waking up after a long winter’s nap.

We slow this kiss, both catching our breaths as we hold on to one another. I lower my hand to his chest and confirm his heart beats as intensely as my own.

“Please don’t make me apologize for that.”

A giggle escapes as he goes in for another kiss, a smile on his face as he does. I sigh into it, letting him take me to that place I never knew before. Like a couple of teenagers, we make outuntil my lips are numb and my mind is the equivalent to silly putty. My eyes are heavy as we cuddle on the bench. Tonight has been unexpected, and part of me knows it’s a stolen moment. Something I’ll remember always but not one with longevity.

When I yawn, Ryan follows suit and then places a kiss to the top of my head. “I should get going. It’s late and I know Pepper will be up long before I’m ready.”

At the mention of his daughter, the reality of who we are comes crashing into me. I won’t regret this moment or being with him, but this isn’t only about us. Together we stand and I pick up our discarded drinks as he motions for me to go ahead of him into the house. We don’t speak as I move to the sink, flipping on the faucet and rinsing the glass. Arms wrap around me from behind.

I close my eyes, wishing the feelings bubbling inside me to go away. “Laney, I don’t know what this means. I just know that being with you feels right. Please don’t shut me out.”

Turning, I lean into his hug, my head resting on his beating heart. I don’t know how I can feel so many different emotions for a man who I’ve known only a matter of days. I’m exhausted. Between work and the Jubilee, I’m overwhelmed, so it’s no wonder I’d seek solace in someone like Ryan. Steady and kind.

Maybe if I tell myself that’s what I’m feeling, my heart won’t break when he leaves.

Chapter Thirteen

Ryan

There wasa time that I dreaded mornings. As a struggling musician, I worked the bar circuit for a few years, taking any gig available. Most days I crawled into bed as the sun rose. My morning coffee was more like mid-afternoon coffee. Even after I found success so playing for a room full of drunks wasn’t necessary, I still found myself as more of a night owl. I wrote my first number one single sitting in an old camp chair on the balcony of our apartment while everyone else in the complex slept.

While Katie appreciated my night owl tendencies after Pepper was born, I loved the one-on-one time with our daughter. And, while she may not know it, we shared some of our best conversations in those early morning hours. It wasn’t until she transitioned from infant to toddler that things changed. I could no longer sleep the morning away. There was a sticky and demanding little girl who wanted my attention.

At some point, I became a morning person. Or at least an adult who recognizes the need to have my shit together by the time my little girl demands breakfast. Like me, Pepper takes a little time to fully wake. Currently, we’re sitting at the kitchen island, her head resting on that haggard stuffed bunny while hereyes flutter half open between yawns. Me? I’m staring into my coffee cup like it holds all the answers to life’s problems.

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