Page 62 of Big Island Sunset
He took a ragged breath. “I’m driving everyone away.”
“Not me,” she said softly, and then her head overtook her heart again. “But you might if things don’t change.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“I think that you need help.”
“What sort of help?” he asked cautiously.
“Maybe you should find a psychotherapist.”
“You think I’m psycho?” he joked weakly.
She let out a single huff of a laugh. “No.”
“I don’t think that talking to a stranger will help.”
“You’re grieving, Ethan. And I want to support you, but I can’t be your therapist. There’s work that you have to do, and the right person can help you.”
“A therapist,” he said thoughtfully.
“I went to therapy for a long time after losing my babies. I’m not sure I could have gotten through that period of my life without help.”
He nodded slowly. “Okay.”
“Okay?” she repeated, not quite believing him.
“I’ll find someone. I need to do better. The people I care about deserve better. And if the right therapist can help me… I’m willing to try.”
She nodded and fully took in his appearance for the first time. There were dark circles under his eyes and several days’ worth of stubble on his chin. He looked exhausted.
“Did you sleep at all last night?” she asked.
Ethan shook his head.
“Leave Theo with me.” She stepped forward and held out her arms. “You go get some sleep.”
“Are you sure?”
She gave him a hard look, and he handed Theo over. The baby arched and grumbled, then settled into her. One of his chubby hands found the pendant at her neck and gripped it tight, and something in her soul settled.
“Go sleep,” she said. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”
18
Tara
Tara turned the burners on her stove down to a low simmer and stepped outside, breathing in the cool morning air. She didn’t spend nearly enough time outside anymore. Aside from rushing through her morning and evening chores with the goats, she basically lived in her little hotbox of a kitchen.
The one day a week that she took off to hike to waterfalls with the family or get in a few hours at the beach replenished her just enough to keep her going — but even so, she felt as if she were constantly teetering on the edge of a cliff. It was exhausting to have so many plates spinning and no real room to rest.
The sun was warm on her face, but the morning was still cool. She wandered aimlessly through the backyard, past the goats and the rabbits, until she reached the aviary.
A sudden guilt pricked her heart as she realized how long it had been since she’d last visited her birds. One of the greenmacaws flew to the side of the aviary and climbed the wall, screeching for her attention.
“Here I come,” she soothed him.
When she let herself into the aviary, Ricky was waiting in the nearest tree. She held out her arm, and he stepped up from the branch. She brought him close enough to cuddle and scratched his neck.
