Page 36 of Stepping Into Tomorrow

Nash probably thought she was pathetic. I’m thirty years old, a single mom of an autistic tween with a baby on the way, and I don’t even have my own place to live. She missed Robert and she was still angry at him, which only made her feel more guilty.

She took out her phone and pulled up the list he’d made and sent to her.

1. Cry until you can’t possibly shed another tear.

2. Laugh. Find something that makes you happy every day and hold on to it.

3. Throw out my tennis shoes you hate so much. You’re welcome.

Isabella’s laugh burst into a half sob, half cry. She’d hated those over-worn shoes. They were stained green from him using them to mow the lawn and even duct-taped in some areas. She’d loathed those shoes and begged him so many times to get rid of them and buy a new pair. But after Robert had passed, she’d found it a lot harder to throw those sneakers out than she’d imaged.

4. Take a year off.

5. This is a two for one. Don’t obsessively watch the video messages I left for Eli. And don’t beat yourself up with what I didn’t get to share with you two. You gave me a gift, one that I can never thank you for enough—our son. More than that, your friendship. You have always been an amazing wife and mother. I wish I had more time to watch you find a man who will love you the way you should be loved.

A sob tore from her chest. Isabella hugged her arms around her. The warm breeze picked up, brushing against her hot cheeks, drying some of her tears. Sniffing, she skimmed down the list to the note left under the last item.

When everything gets overwhelming and you don’t think you can do it by yourself, promise me you’ll step into tomorrow.

She tipped her head up towards the far-off constellations. “I miss you, Robert.”

The sound of insects and the rustling leaves of the forest behind her were her only replies.

“I wish you were here, but I’m glad you’re not suffering anymore.” Slipping her phone into her pocket, she continued, “Eli is happy to spend time at the marina with Mama and Papi. He’s become even more obsessed with boats and fishing. I think it’s his way of trying to stay close to you. His way of remembering all the times you took him on special trips on the lake.” She laughed and then shook her head. “I don’t know what I’m doing with him. You always had a special way of getting through to him. And I . . . feel so lost.” She hiccupped and wiped her face, sniffling.

A twig snapped somewhere in the woods behind her. She jumped to her feet, heart racing. Is it a bear? A coyote?

Isabella wasn’t going to wait to find out. She scurried back towards Nova’s house, giving the sky one last lingering glance before she blew a kiss, and with it, a wish.

18

NASH

The following weekend, Nash closed the smoker, quickly checking the thermometer for the pigs cooking inside. A couple more hours and these hogs would be ready to take to the Juneteenth celebration in Green Park.

A firm slap thumped against his back.

“Hey, big brother. Smells good,” Ricky said.

Nash filled his lungs with the scent of hickory and savory meat. “That’s ’cause I know what I’m doing—unlike some people.”

“It was one time. It’s not my fault no one’s let me try again to prove that it was a one-off,” Ricky argued, crossing his arms across his wide chest.

Nash chuckled. “You forget that one time ended with four suckling pigs that were black as charcoal on the outside and raw on the inside. Still not sure how you managed that.”

Ricky smirked. “It’s a talent really.”

“What are you two assholes talking about?” Roman asked, coming around the barn.

“Ricky here was offering to help,” Nash answered.

“Oh, fuck no. You don’t go anywhere near that smoker,” Roman said.

Ricky shook his head. “Speaking of smoking, have you seen Nova’s new roommate around?”

“Why?” Nash asked, picking up a whetstone and his knife to sharpen, pretending not to be interested.

Ricky rolled his eyes. “Well, Nash, I know you’re really taking this grumpy hermit thing to heart, but some of us have eyes. Isabella is a MILF.”

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