Page 57 of One More Heartbeat
She turns back to Peony. “You, sweet little one, can call me Granny. And who’s that?” Mom points to Poppy.
Peony gifts her one of her shy smiles and cuddles her panda. “Poppy.”
“That’s a lovely name. And I love your name too. It’s so pretty.”
Peony’s smile widens, revealing tiny teeth.
Mom releases a small noise. A noise that says:Oh, aren’t you just the cutest?“I’m so happy to finally meet you. Is it…can I help swing you?”
Peony pumps her legs, the action lacking the coordination needed to get the swing moving again.
Athena nods at my mother, telling her without words to go ahead, and steps to the side. Mom takes her place, and I watch the three of them interact. Peony doesn’t show any signs of being scared of my mother. Just the opposite.
In less than thirty seconds, Mom has won her over. Why is it Peony seems to be accepting of everyone else but still uncertain about me? What have I done to make her treat me like I’m a leper?
Feeling like they’re better off without me standing there, I walk to the bench where Dad is sitting.
He shakes his head in resignation as I sit next to him. “God, I hope your mother’s heart won’t be broken. She was devastated enough when she found out about Lily and about Simone’s hysterectomy.”
I wasn’t there when Simone and Lucas explained to my parents how Simone had been pregnant with Lucas’s baby over eleven years ago—something none of us, including Lucas, had known about at the time. A drunk driver resulted in her losing the baby, and Simone needed an emergency hysterectomy to save her life. I wasn’t there when they told Mom, but I heard afterward how devastated she’d been at losing her only grandchild.
“Mom seems convinced Peony is my daughter.”
Dad blows out a short laugh. “Of course she does. She desperately wants this to be true. But most of all, she wants you to be happy. Are you happy?”
Happy? I’m not sure that describes how I feel. I have a daughter I didn’t know about until recently. A daughter who isn’t particularly fond of me. She’s only eighteen months old—what will she be like when she’s sixteen? Will she resent me more than she does now because I wasn’t in her life from day one?
I rub my neck, trying to ease the growing knot.
“Are you happy?” Dad repeats.
“Ask me that once my current project is in my editor’s hands.” Betteryet, once my editor tells me he loves the story and confirms massive rewrites won’t be necessary.
“Like that, huh?”
Screams of laughter come from the slide, the two other kids running around it, arms up like they’re airplanes.
“I don’t know how single parents manage. At least I have Athena to help me muddle through it. But it’s not making things easy for hitting my deadline.”
“I wish I could say I know what you mean, but I can’t. I missed those early years when you and your brothers were that age.” He dips his head toward Peony. “You won’t miss those precious years like I did with you and your brothers. And the mother of your children won’t have to worry about you dying in action, leaving her with young kids to raise without a father.”
His words, spoken without malice, are a grenade to my heart, shrapnel shredding my insides. Yes, Peony won’t have to worry about her father dying in action. But Clarke’s and Cooper’s children can’t say the same…because I couldn’t save my friends.
Memories flash in my mind. Memories of the day I lost them both.
Sweatdue to the heat from the Afghan desert sun haddampened my hair and dripped down my back. The sweltering temperature had been the least of my problems, what with the recent Taliban activity. My M27 was in position, the butt against my shoulder, as I slowly reversed into the old stone building.
I focused on the dry terrain surrounding the entrance. Cooper and Clarke had been the first to enter the building as we worked to secure it. I was watching their backs. The rest of our unit was in position, ensuring we weren’t ambushed from outside.
I searched around the room, and an unease stirred in my gut.Something’s not right.
An explosion at the back of the house shook the building, shatteredthe windows. I dropped to the ground, covering my head and neck with my arms. Dust and debris landed on me. Something sharp sliced into me just below my ribs.
It took a moment to regain my senses. All I could hear was the loud ringing in my ears. The explosion hadn’t been big enough to level the house, but a thick layer of dust covered the front room.
Coughing, I pushed to my knees and gasped at the pain in my side. Blood soaked through my cammies, but the amount seeping through wasn’t enough to worry about yet. “Cooper? Clarke?” I yelled.
The ringing in my ears drowned out their replies.Please let them be okay.I staggered forward, calling out their names again, using the wall to keep me upright.
