Page 34 of Deep Gap

Everyone is vivacious. I never would have guessed Kimber—pregnant and chasing a preschooler to stop him from chasing Tallulah to feed her what’s left of his spare rib—was as old as Byron. Apparently, so is Holly. The woman with victory rolls and the pin-up girl dress. Yet, a lot of the other women here are closer to my age or younger. And the men run the gamut too.

Other than Byron, I interact mostly with my parents and Mac and Karen. They seem so old in comparison. It must be what we’ve been through that’s jaded my perspective.

“Hey O,” Aidy snags her baby brother’s attention. “Can you finish eating that rib so we can all have cake?”

“Dhere’s cake?” his tolled lisp makes him sound like a drunken sailor.

Aidy points to a double-decker. The top round tier is slightly smaller than the bottom. The ombre frosting swirls from shades of light pink to turquoise. The baker has piped the most adorable sayings in icing like Beard or Bow?, Mustaches or Eyelashes?, and my personal favorite, Cupcake or Studmuffin?

Owen doesn’t need to be told twice. He immediately nibbles the rest of the meat.

Kimber comes to a standstill next to her son. She places one hand on her lower back, relieved, and ruffles another into his already messy hair. Her expression, glancing between her two children, is utter joy and thankfulness.

Kids aren’t part of the package for me. But what I wouldn’t give for an ounce of the happiness Kimber feels.

Morgan swoops in to scoop Owen up and Aidy excuses herself to wet a napkin for the little boy’s face.

Byron slips his arm around me. “You’re smiling,” he says low enough no one else will hear. “I caught you.”

“Look at her. She’s surrounded by support. She’s so lucky.”

“I’d rather watch you.” He places a kiss on my collarbone where the skin peeks out from my dress. “Take a step back, Greer. All these women are supporting you. There are people who love you, too.” Byron reminds me he is one of them.

Thank you. The response is reflexive.

The words I love you are on the trip of my tongue. They swell inside of me, building to a point that the overwhelming emotion gets trapped in my throat. I wasn’t ready to say them to Byron just now and am not sure I ever will be. Risking my heart again is foolhardy. It isn’t even fear that he’ll change his mind and not love me back. I can’t love someone and lose them again. Keeping that emotion bottled up stops the universe from serving up retribution for even attempting to love.

Yet there’s an ache to staying silent. Creases wrinkle Byron’s forehead. I cup his cheek, running my fingertips against the stubble. The golden light in his eyes dims, betraying his sorrow. I touch my lips to his in sweet benediction.

I wish I could spit out what he needs to hear with an air of nonchalance that falls on fate’s deaf ears. But that bitch listens. And I’m not ready to let him go and it’s inevitable the better things get, the worse it’s going to hurt when that happens.

A commotion near the rear of the house has everyone turning their heads. Scads of tiny blue M&Ms scatter onto the cement pad where the cake table rests. Owen chases the candy, squashing the shells under his shoes. He reaches out with frosting-covered hands, popping them into his mouth.

“Yummy!”

“Owen, no!” Aidy yells.

He’s ripped the side off of the cake, spilling the proverbial beans.

“Trig, they’re blue. All of the candies falling out at the bottom are blue!” Kimber grabs her husband by the collar.

“Hell, yes!” he bellows, taking a handful of cake for himself, and then offers Kimber a sticky lick from his finger.

She’s beaming when Trig shout-announces the babies’ names are Finn and Kennan.

“Is the top layer different?” Aidy’s scooping up M&M’s, trying to stop O from eating them off the ground.

“No!” Kimber shrieks, excitedly hugging her adult daughter. “Owen made a mess when he snatched a bite. The side of the cake is gone. It’s two boys!”

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16

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Here’s the thing: I’ve never thought much about having kids. I’m an only child raised alongside a barn full of animals. If I got lonely, a goat, or flock of chickens were there to listen to my troubles and horse around with. My parents were great. I didn’t lack for attention or affection. I didn’t lack for a damn thing until they passed on and I was left with their property and the proceeds from their life insurance. It was then I recognized stuff doesn’t make up for people.

I had great people in my life while I was in the Army. I still do. And I’m fine with being a Doggy Daddy in perpetuity. I freaking flew Jovie across the globe for the chance to take care of her and it has meant the world to me.

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