The Air He Breathes (Elements, #1)(4)

“We are.” I smiled toward her as I folded up the pullout. The night before I hadn’t slept a wink and I stayed up packing all of our belongings.

Emma had a goofy grin on her face that matched her father’s. She screamed, “YAY!” and told Bubba we were really going home.

Home.

That word stung a little in the back of my heart, but I kept smiling. I’d learned to always smile in front of Emma because she had a way of growing sad whenever she thought I was sad. Even though she gave me the best Eskimo kisses when I was feeling down, she didn’t need that kind of responsibility.

“We should make it back in time to see the fireworks on our rooftop. Remember how we used to watch the fireworks on the roof with Daddy? Do you remember that, babe?” I asked her.

She narrowed her eyes as if going deep into her mind, searching. If only our minds were like file cabinets and we could simply retrieve our favorite memories from a neatly organized system whenever we chose. “I don’t remember,” she said, hugging Bubba.

That breaks my heart.

I smiled anyway.

“Well, how about we stop at the store on the way and pick up some Bomb-Pops to eat on the roof?”

“And some Cheeto Puffs for Bubba!”

“Of course!”

She smiled and screamed once more. That time the grin I gave her was nothing but real.

I loved her more than she’d ever know. If it hadn’t been for her, I would’ve definitely lost myself to the grief. Emma saved my soul.





I didn’t say goodbye to Mama, because she never came home from her dinner date with Casanova. When I first moved in with her and she didn’t come home, I would call and call, worried about her whereabouts, but often she would yell at me, telling me she was a grown woman doing grown woman things.

So, I left her a note.

Going home.

We love you.

We’ll see you soon.

—E&E



We drove for hours in my broken-down car, listening to the Frozen soundtrack enough times for me to consider pulling out my eyelashes one at a time with a razorblade. Emma somehow listened to each song a million times, yet had a way of making up her own words to every line. To be honest, I liked her version of the songs the best.

When she fell asleep, Frozen slept with her, leaving me with a car full of silence. My hand reached out toward the passenger seat, palm up, waiting for another hand to lock my fingers with theirs, but the touch never found me.

I’m doing good, I told myself, over and over again. I’m so good.

One day, it would be true.

One day, I’d be good.

As we merged onto the I-64 freeway, my gut tightened. I wished I could take back roads to get to Meadows Creek, but this was the only way into town. It was quite busy for the holiday, but the new smooth pavement of the once broken roadway made for easy travels. Tears formed in my eyes as I remembered watching the news.

Pileup on I-64!

Chaos!

Mayhem!

Injuries!

Casualties!



Steven.



One breath.

I kept driving and the tears that tried to escape failed. I forced my body to go numb, because if I wasn’t numb, I’d feel everything. If I felt everything, I’d fall apart, and I couldn’t fall apart. The rearview mirror showed me my small bit of strength as I stared at my baby. We made it across the freeway, and I took another breath. Each day was one breath at a time. I couldn’t think much further than that, otherwise I’d choke on the air.

On a polished white piece of wood was a sign that read ‘Welcome to Meadows Creek’.

Emma was awake now, staring out the window. “Hey, Mama?”

“Yes, baby?”

“Do you think Daddy will know that we moved? Do you think he’ll know where to leave the feathers?”

When Steven passed away and we moved to stay with Mama, there were white bird feathers scattered around the front yard. When Emma asked about them, Mama said they were small signs from the angels, letting us know they were always close by, watching over us.

Emma had loved the idea, and whenever she would find a feather, she would look up to the sky, smile, and whisper, “I love you too, Daddy.” Then she would take a picture with the feather to add to her collection of ‘Daddy and Me’ photos.

“I’m sure he’ll know where to find us, sweetie.”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “Yeah, he’ll know where to find us.”

The trees were greener than I remembered, and the little shops in downtown Meadows Creek were decked out with reds, whites, and blues for the festivities. It was so familiar yet foreign all at once. Mrs. Fredrick’s American flag flapped in the wind as she fixed the patriotically dyed roses in her flowerpot. Pride bloomed from her entire existence as she stepped back to admire her home.

We got stuck behind the one traffic light in town for ten minutes. The wait made no sense at all, but it did give me time to take in everything that reminded me of Steven. Of us. Once the light switched over, I placed my foot on the gas pedal, wanting nothing more than to get home and ignore the shadows of the past. As the car took off down the street, from the corner of my eye I saw a dog dashing toward me. My foot moved quickly to the brake, but my old, beat-up car hiccupped and hesitated to stop. By the time it finally did, I heard the loud yelp.