The Last Letter(131)

“Now I’m like you, Mom.”

“How, baby?”

Her eyes stayed locked on Colt. “We both have brothers out here.”

Another wave of grief came for me, dragging me under waves so thick I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see my way to the surface. How did anyone live through losing a child? Why didn’t the pain simply stop my heart as it constantly threatened and send me with him?

Maisie’s hand found mine, and air trickled into my lungs.

“We do.” I finally found the strength to answer her.

“Beckett matches us, too.” She turned her attention to where Beckett was nodding and shaking hands with the last of the line. “Both his best friends are here.”

I swallowed for the thousandth time, trying to dislodge the permanent lump in my throat as I watched him. He stood strong and steady, handling what I couldn’t, even though his grief matched mine. He was simply that strong.

Soon it was just Beckett, Maisie, and me sitting on the bench, facing the house Beckett had built for us.

“Are you ready?” Beckett asked. “We can stay as long as you like.”

I couldn’t bear to watch them pour dirt over my little boy, to block out the sunlight on his face. It felt too final, too wrong. “Yeah, let’s go.”

We walked past where the workers were adjusting Colt, and I stopped at Ryan’s headstone, putting my hand on the smooth granite surface. “He’s with you, now. And I know you never really wanted to be a parent, but you have to be, just for a little while. Until we get there. Make sure he plays. Teach him everything, anything he wants to know. Hug him, and love him, and then let him shine. He’s yours for a little while.”

My vision blurred, and Beckett took my arm. I turned to see Maisie kneeling at the edge of Colt’s grave, her shoulders shaking. I moved forward, but Beckett stopped me. “Give her a second.”

I heard it then, her little voice talking to him. I couldn’t make out the words but knew it was just for the two of them, like so much had been while he was alive. Beckett stood silent, supporting me until Maisie was ready.

How do you say goodbye to the person who shared your soul? Who had been with you through every heartbeat of your life?

She stood up, tall and sure, then turned to us with a sad smile. Then, she wiped her eyes and stopped crying. “He’s okay now. We both are.”

And somehow I knew she meant it. She’d found her peace with the certainty that only a child could have.

It felt like a blink, but we were back in the house. Ada had organized the reception in the main house, so mine was quiet and empty, which was exactly what I needed.

I sent Beckett up to the house with Maisie, and simply sat, trying just to be. Havoc lay at my side, curling her head in my lap as I forced air through my lungs, concentrating on the simple mechanisms of living.

There was a knock at the door, and then Captain Donahue entered. “I’m so sorry to bother you. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling, nor will I pretend to know.” He stood in front of me and then dropped to my eye level. So much like Beckett. “I know this might not be the time, but we’re shipping out, and I don’t know when I’ll get back to Telluride. So this is for you.”

He handed me a white envelope with Beckett’s handwriting on it. It was addressed to me.

“What is this?” I asked, peeling back the paper.

“Don’t read it yet. Now isn’t the time. Some of the guys asked me to keep their last letters. I kept Mac’s for Gentry, and I kept Gentry’s for you.”

“For me?”

He nodded. “I’m leaving it with you in case you start to feel lost or forget how much he loves you. Like I said, not for now. But for someday.”

He left, but I didn’t remember the act of him leaving, or anyone else returning. The steady rhythm of my breathing was all I could concentrate on, counting to ten over and over, trying to live through the pain. I sat there, drank the water that was handed to me, ate the food that was prepared, and faked a smile when Maisie said it was time for bed.

I pulled myself together enough to tuck her in. I brushed her hair behind her ear with my fingers and put my hand over her chest as she drifted off, the day taking its toll on her tiny body. The beat of her heart gave strength to mine, the knowledge that she was still here because I’d fought like hell to keep her alive.

But God hadn’t given me that chance with Colt.

I found Beckett in the hallway, leaning in the doorway of Colt’s room.

“It’s like some kind of cruel joke,” I said, startling Beckett. “Like this isn’t real.”

He turned back toward me. “I keep expecting to find him in here. Like I can tell Havoc to seek him, and he’ll pop out from wherever he’s hiding.”

I nodded, my words failing me.

“Let’s walk,” he suggested.

I didn’t object as we walked outside, the fresh air stinging my raw, salt-wounded cheeks. Across the water, my son lay next to my brother, and I still couldn’t grasp the reality of it all. The fog that had surrounded my brain since the fall began to clear with the breeze off the lake, leaving room for other emotions for the first time in days.

This. Wasn’t. Fair. None of it. Colt deserved better.

“I fought so hard for Maisie,” I said, bracing my hands on the wooden banister of my deck. “I kept saying that she needed me, and that Colt would be okay, but Maisie was dying. How damn stupid was that?” My voice broke.