Page 41 of Embrace Me Forever

“Not now, okay? But the doctors will help you walk again,” I affirm, convinced she understands me.

She relaxes into me, and I pull her back against my chest. “I’ve got ya,” I murmur near her ear. As she settles into the comfort of my arms, forming a makeshift cushion and safety net, she seems content. Her eyes light up with curiosity as she reaches up to explore my beard.

“Yeah, it’s grownup stuff,” I comment lightly.

As she keeps stretching, her sleeve slides up, revealing the prick marks from numerous IVs and injections. My body hurts, yet she remains upbeat, laughing, apparently savoring even the littlest joy, her tiny fingers tangling in the coarse hair. Then, her small hand drops to the top of mine, delicate and trusting.

“I love you too, baby,” I whisper.

When dinner is ready, Georgia-May reappears in a simple dress that casts her in an endearingly domestic light, igniting a wish for her to be mine. If only things were as simple as two people being in love with no concerns in the world.

We gather at the table, Anne sitting right next to me as Georgia-May settles Coco into her highchair. Anne has prepared a delicious clam linguine. The meal starts with Georgia-May feeding Coco first, the scene a glimpse of family life I never knew.

Georgia-May watches me twirl the pasta around my fork, her smile barely noticeable.

“What?” I ask.

“You’re left-handed?”

I almost need to double-check that I’m holding the fork in my right hand, just like her and Anne.

“I mean, the direction you’re spinning the pasta,” Georgia-May says, nibbling her lower lip to stifle a smile.

“Aha!” I exclaim, surprised by her keen observation. “Yes, I’m a proud leftie.”

Her eyebrows shoot up, clearly turning this over in her mind. I can’t help but wonder what kind of left-handed conspiracy she’s cooking up in there.

“So, Blake,” Anne says, her voice casual as she butters her bread, “your bosses are okay with you staying here, dealing with these so-called complications?”

Indeed, the complications run deep. I respond, “They’re on board. They want Georgia-May and Coco safe as much as I do.”

Anne probes further, “And what makes you qualified to handle these ‘complications?’”

“Anne…” Georgia-May interjects tentatively, trying to curb the interrogation, but Anne presses on.

“I’ve been a private investigator for quite some time,” I continue, meeting Anne’s gaze squarely. “Before that, I was in law enforcement. I’ve faced a variety of challenges.”

“Law enforcement?” Georgia-May exclaims, a note of surprise in her voice. “I didn’t know that.”

“I was a trooper in my home state of Alaska, then became a detective.”

Georgia-May’s eyes sparkle with intrigue. She tells Coco, “You hear that, Co? Blake is from Alaska. Do you remember what we learned about Alaska?” Slowly, with a touch of whimsy, she curves her fingers atop her head, mimicking the silhouette of bear ears.

“Bear!” Coco interjects, her arms soaring into the air like little wings.

A chuckle escapes me as Coco’s delight in bears from a faraway land washes over me. “Yeah, there are brown bears, polar bears, and black bears in Alaska,” I say, my tone morphing into that of a storyteller, weaving a tone of enchantment to ignite her wonder.

“Black!” she declares with the same enthusiasm.

Her sheer delight in the wildlife from the landscapes of my youth brings a lighter air to the room, momentarily distracting me from the tense undercurrents at the table.

But Anne isn’t letting up. As her sister continues helping Coco eat, she probes, “So, what made you move to California?”

Talk about the interrogator becoming the interrogated!

“Anne, be gentle with him,” Georgia-May chimes in, attempting to sway her sister’s approach, though a hint of amusement dances in her eyes.

“Work,” I respond succinctly, careful to keep the more complex layers of my past with Flo well hidden, far from Anne’s prying curiosity. “But to be honest, I do miss the slow beat of my hometown.”

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