Worth the Fall (The McKinney Brothers, #1)(91)

Face the facts, little girl. People leave, always have. And they don’t come back.

Every muscle ached, tense and tired from holding her body so tightly for so long just to keep from flying into pieces. But she smiled and filled her plate with food her stomach was too tied up to accept. After lunch, Marge continued the charade, marking and pinning the girls’ dresses. All she wanted was to go into a dark closet and hide. Scream. She didn’t want to be around people at all. The fact that it was supposed to have been a celebration leading up to the big day made it all the more unbearable.

Her polite words to excuse herself and the kids were cut off by Gracie’s bloodcurdling scream from the backyard.

Abby rushed outside, expecting blood, and found Annie holding one piece of a white wicker basket and Jack holding the other. Gracie, still wailing, stood to the side with a robin’s egg blue ribbon clenched in her tight fist and blowing in the wind.

“She doesn’t need it!” Annie screamed.

“Does too!” Jack screamed right back.

“No, she doesn’t! You don’t need a flower girl or petals or any stupid basket when there’s no wedding!”

Gracie’s cries of outrage changed to pure heartbreak as she dropped to her knees and crawled across the dead winter grass, gathering each pansy petal and clutching them to her heart one by one.

Beth was there, kneeling beside Gracie, when Abby reached the yard.

“I—need them— Aunt…Beth. I do and Annie says I d…don’t.” Gracie hiccupped every word to the woman who would never really be her aunt.

“Of course you do, sweetheart. Here, put them in my hand and we’ll find you a new basket.”

Tony went to Jack. “Come on, Jack Attack. Let’s go see if we can find some more of Grandma’s peanut butter cookies.”

“No! I’m going to look for him.” Jack stood at the edge of the woods. “He’s lost and I don’t care if you help me. I’m gonna find him.”

Annie stood alone, breathing hard, silent tears tracking down her cheeks.

It was time to go. She couldn’t do this anymore.

Taking the destroyed basket from Annie’s grasp, Abby laid it on the railing of the deck. “I’m sorry. I can’t,” she said, meeting Marge’s watery eyes.

Matt’s mother grabbed her into a hug. “Don’t lose hope,” she whispered. “I’ll drive you home. Tony can follow with your car.”

“No. Thank you.”

“Sweetheart. You shouldn’t be alone.”

Abby knew what Marge was seeing. A person shutting down. Closing up and turning off. Because that’s what you did when you thought everything was perfect and then you were blindsided again with No, it’s not. “We’ll be fine. The kids are tired. We’ll all nap and regroup.”

“Okay, honey. If you’re sure.” Marge hugged her again.

She’d come so close to having a mother.

Tony followed her to the car and helped her get the kids buckled in. He straightened and faced her before she could get away, studying her for a moment. “What are you thinking?”

“What?”

“You don’t think he’s coming back. You’re strong. You’re stoic. What are you thinking?”

Abby thought a second, but she really had no reason to lie. “That it might be better for us if we moved back to Raleigh.”

“What? No!” Jack screamed from the backseat. “If we move he’ll never find us!”

“It’s okay, Jack,” Tony said, placating and reassuring him enough to settle down. “You’re not moving. Sit back in your seat.”

Abby started to protest, but Tony interrupted, his voice only loud enough for her ears. “You’re Matt’s, Abby, you and the kids. That means you’re ours. No matter what happens.”

Really? A lovely sentiment if it were true, but she didn’t think she could stand being here without him. She nodded and slid behind the wheel, not feeling at all strong or stoic. More like barely hanging on and aching from the effort.

“He loves you,” Tony said. “You know that.”

Her throat closed up to strangle her but she nodded.

“You can’t give up hope.”

Yes, you can, she thought. And sometimes, in order to survive, you have to.

—

A steady, icy drizzle fell, matching her mood. Not rain, not snow, just an in-between weariness from the sky. How many nights had she stood here looking out this window, watching for him to pull into the driveway? Don’t watch for them. Don’t wait for them. Those had always been her childhood rules. But she hadn’t followed them, not for the past fourteen days.

She stared until the frozen mess falling in front of the streetlight blurred and nothing was clear. But inside everything was clear.

He wasn’t coming back.

She tried to tell herself not to worry. He’s a U.S. Navy SEAL, practically unkillable. But no one was immortal, not even Matt.

Even with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, she shivered against a bone-deep cold. She’d told everyone she had the flu so she could be alone, but now she wasn’t so sure. Maybe she was really sick. Or maybe this was what a broken heart felt like.

Mary made a sound from the cradle but quickly settled. Marge and Anthony had taken Charlie for the night. Annie, Gracie, and Jack had gone with Tony and Beth. Thank God for Matt’s family. She needed a break from the questions that were killing her. From her precious Gracie constantly reaching out for reassurance.