Page 113 of Forever Flames: Padraig & Stevie
The air between us is suspended with every word we’ve never said, every memory we’ve never let go of, and every loss we’ve carried alone. Grief lives here too. Threaded through the years, binding us as much as it’s carved a canyon.
I inhale his scent. Clean cotton. Leather. Baby powder.
We don’t speak. We just hold.
Until Isla tugs at my sleeve. “Mom? Who is this man?”
I pull back slowly, not ready, but knowing I have to for the sake of my kids.
“This is Padraig, Isla,” I remind her. “He was my next door neighbor and best friend.”
Padraig swallows hard. He looks down at her. “Hi, Isla. You’re so grown up.”
She blinks up at him, uncertain.
“You met him at Grandma Lucinda’s birthday a few years ago, remember?” I prompt.
She scrunches her nose. “Um…sort of.”
“This is Lila.” I gesture to my youngest daughter, nodding to where she’s now staring at Rafferty like he’s a toy she wants to steal. “And Jude.”
Padraig gives a small, awkward wave.
“Why is your baby in a backpack?” Jude points at Padraig’s chest.
“It’s a baby carrier.” Padraig chuckles. “His name’s Rafferty.”
Lila peers up at him. “Raf-fer-tee.Weird.”
“I know,” Padraig says. “It’s Irish. It means abundance and prosperity.”
Behind him, I realize Mara is hanging back, watching the scene. She doesn’t interrupt. Or insert herself. She politely stands to the side with a fixed, practiced smile pasted to her lips like she knows exactly where she fits in this moment.
Outside of it.
“Hi, Mara.” I take a small step toward her, bridging the space.
Her smile brightens before she frowns. “Hi Stevie. I’m so sorry for your loss. I can’t imagine what this year’s been like for you.”
I’m used to hearing this sentiment. A polite, measured thing people say when they don’t know how to address such a devastating tragedy.
“Thank you, we’re getting through,” I reply on autopilot before switching subjects to her. “How are you doing?”
“Oh, better now. A change of scenery has helped a lot.” She lets out a breath. “Still getting my bearings, but I like it up here.” She glances toward Padraig, then back to me. “I recently started at KOMO. Field reporting for now. I hope to work toward an anchor spot once I rebuild my reel. I’ve had a few years off.”
“Wow, how exciting.” I try to exude positivity, though the words carry a strange weight.
A fleeting thought slips in before I can stop it. I chose not to follow Padraig and, as I understand it, Mara gave up her career to follow him. The irony isn’t lost on me.
Now, here we are, all of us starting over.
Did I make the wrong call all those years ago? I glance over at Isla, her braid slipping over her shoulder. Then, Lila watching all of us with wide eyes and Jude’s ice cream-sticky smile. Little Rafferty is strapped to Padraig’s chest.
None of them would exist if we’d stayed the course.
Something akin to peace washes over me. Some things happen because they’re meant to. Even if they break you first.
Padraig shifts Rafferty in the carrier, steadying him with one hand while the other brushes against Mara’s back. The touch isn’t romantic, it’s stabilizing. Like he’s bracing her the same way he’s always steadied everyone else.
