Page 25 of Against All Odds (Ember Falls #3)

nineteen

Everett

V iolet passed out a few minutes after lying on the couch, and I followed shortly after. Yesterday was a long day in general, but last night really added to it.

First, Mom came to the house after wandering the property, saying she couldn’t find Brutus, and then Violet and Mom saw each other.

It went better than I thought, but I try not to bring new people around her without at least giving her some prior warning.

She doesn’t like surprises.

Neither do I, but, man, I was hit with quite a few in a row.

However, dealing with Mom was so much easier with Violet. Maybe it’s not about my days looking different or worrying about the future, but having someone beside me that matters.

I grab the coffeepot, pouring another cup that tastes like shit compared to Prose & Perk. I think Hazel puts some kind of magic in her beans, because no matter what I try, I can’t get it to taste the same.

Violet is still passed out, so I head over to see my mother.

When I get inside, I can feel the energy is off. “Mom?”

“I can’t handle it!” she yells, and I hear something fall to the floor.

I walk back to where she is and find her pulling everything out of the chest at the end of her bed. “Mom, what are you doing?”

“Where is it? Did you take it, Everett? Where is your father’s jacket? He had it with him. I need it.”

“Which jacket?” I ask carefully, although I know what she’s referring to.

My mother was adamant that, when we cleaned out the main house, my father’s belongings also needed to come with her to the barn. She wanted parts of him to remain with her. We kept a few shirts, pants, and his favorite jacket he wore when working on the farm.

We kept everything in that chest to try to avoid my mother falling apart daily if she saw his things hanging in the closet.

“His jacket. I need it.”

I crouch down next to her. “I’ll help.”

Her eyes find mine and I see the tears welling. “I don’t know where it is.”

“We’ll find it.”

She shakes her head. “I ... I think ... I had it.”

“His brown one?” I ask.

“Yes, that one.”

“Okay, we’ll find it,” I assure her again.

Sometimes she likes to go through the chest, and then she forgets what she was doing or why the clothes are out. It’s very stressful for her when they aren’t returned here. If by any chance one of her friends were here when she last went through them, they may not have known how to put them back.

I haven’t checked in for at least a week, which is my fault.

I know better than to not go through the rooms every other day to ensure everything is the same.

As I empty the chest, she sits on the bed, her hands clutched in her lap, and she rocks. This is going to send her spiraling if I can’t find it soon.

“Check the dresser!” she says quickly.

I go there first. I check the drawers, but there is only her clothing. “Not here, Mom.”

“Oh, Everett, please. I need his things, I can’t forget him. Please.”

I walk over, resting my hands on her shoulders. “You will never forget him.”

“I forget things,” she says, and her voice cracks.

“Sometimes you do, but never the important people. Do you always know me?”

She nods. “And do you know your friends and nurses?”

“Yes.”

“And when you look at that photo”—I point to the one on her side table, showing the three of us at my last baseball game—“do you know who those people are?”

“Of course,” she breathes.

“Okay, then. Don’t worry about forgetting Dad. I don’t think you ever could.”

He lives inside her.

“Everett?” My mother’s eyes soften.

“What?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For being like this. You should be married and have kids. You shouldn’t be living like this. I’m a burden.”

I crouch down, taking her hands in mine. “You are never a burden. You took care of me from the day you found me. You and Dad loved me no matter what and worked to always make sure I had whatever I needed. I’m exactly where I need to be, Mom. I love you.”

Her lip trembles, and she brushes my hair back like she did when I was a little boy. “I love you with my whole heart.”

“Good. Then let’s find Dad’s jacket, put the room back together, and then we can have breakfast.”

I stand and head to her closet. Sure enough, there’s a pile on the left of all his clothing. I bring the pile to her, and she sits there and folds his things in neat order, at times brushing the fabric with a smile on her face.

“He loved this shirt.”

My heart aches for her and the love they shared. I don’t know that there were ever two people who were meant to be together more than them.

I can remember walking in on them kissing in the kitchen, absolutely disgusted, but now I see it so differently.

“I think he loved that you bought it for him.”

She chuckles. “That man didn’t buy a single thing for himself. If I didn’t get him new jeans, he’d wear the torn ones until they’d fall apart. He wanted us to have everything.”

Mom extends the shirt to me, and I take it as carefully as she handles it. “He never let me see how hard it was for him.”

My baseball aspirations drained them financially. There were games all over the place, travel, new equipment, and leagues that I was adamant I needed to play in. The camp up in New England probably cost half of what they made in a year, but they never said a word. Dad just said he’d make it work.

“Oh, honey, parents don’t want their children to know the truth.”

“Still, it was hard for you both.”

Mom waits for me to look at her again. “Parents do whatever their kids need. It wasn’t easy, but you were worth the struggles.

To see you smile, to know you had what you needed, that’s what a parent does.

It’s what you’ll do someday when you have one.

You’ll sacrifice for them, no matter what they require.

You’ll love them and always put their needs and well-being first, even if it means your heartache.

Do you think I liked watching you go to camp? No. I hated it, but you loved it.”

“I think you did a lot more than most would,” I tell her, thinking of how they gave up their life to take me in.

“Why?”

“Because you and Dad were resolved to not having kids.”

This conversation has gone way deeper than I had planned, but these were things I thought about last night.

She shakes her head. “And? You were my son the moment I held you. The moment I knew you existed.”

“I know.”

I never felt unloved. I didn’t even know I wasn’t theirs, to be honest. People would always tell my parents how much I looked like my dad, to which my parents would smile and rub my head, saying they agreed.

When I found out I was adopted, it was so difficult. I felt like I’d been lied to, but at the same time I was so grateful to have known them.

I think I learned a lot about love at that point as well. Because they loved me, I never doubted that.

I think about what all this means now. How I don’t know what to feel about Violet having a kid and where I thought my life was going. Can I be in her life? In the baby’s life? What would it even look like?

We continue to put the clothes away, both silent as the weight of today’s conversation settles around us and also knowing she probably won’t remember half of it.

She’ll go to watch her show, settle into the routine of today, and forget about the pain of thinking she lost Dad’s things. Again, a small blessing from her injury. She doesn’t hold on to things for long.

“If you could go back, knowing you’d lose Dad, knowing that nothing would be different, would you still love him?”

Her smile is so honest it causes my chest to ache.

“I would love that man if I only ever got one day with him.” She walks over to me, placing her hand on my chest. “Just like you would for Violet. Love is a choice, and yet, for others, it’s just inevitable.

You can be scared of it and run, or you can just feel it and let it take hold.

I can promise, if your father walked in this house and all I could ever have was one more day, oh, I would hold on to that day with both hands. ”

I walk back to the house with more of a fucked-up mind than I had last night after Violet told me she was pregnant.

It was a lot: my mother’s breakdown, the talk after, and then watching her go back to the shell of who she was just a few minutes earlier, finally going into the living room and settling into a normal day.

However, for a little while, I had my mom back.

Even if that mother imparted way too much wisdom in a short span. All I can think about is the last thing she said about getting just one more day with my dad.

One more day isn’t enough.

That’s what I wish I could tell Mom. One more day would only make her wish for one more.

Years ago, when Violet left without a word, I remember yelling about all the things I’d say to her about love and the lies she told.

Then I was just sad, because it felt like I’d lost everything.

When she walked through the door of Prose & Perk a couple of months ago, all of that came back. The emotions, the desire, the love, the anger at how it went, but the biggest part of me felt—hope.

I never stopped loving her.

I sit on my back step, not ready to face her yet.

I don’t want one more day. I don’t want one more week. I want all the damn days. I want her, this baby, a home, a family, all of it is what I want.

Yes, things are a mess, but what in life worth having isn’t a little messy?

One more day will never suffice.

I’m going to be there for her, show her that when you love someone, you fight. She and I can figure this out because I can’t survive her leaving me again.

I was a fucking liar to think that we wouldn’t have any promises or that I didn’t want more.

That’s been my downfall with her since we were kids—there is never enough.

My phone rings and it’s the emergency vet line.

“Dr. Finnegan,” I answer.

“Hello, Doctor F, it’s Courtney. I got a call from the Jones farm. They’d like to know if you can come today to check on a few cows?”

I really needed today off to process this and talk to Violet about her plans and make her see that sometimes not having one can lead to more than we dreamed. As much as I want to say no, I won’t. I never do. If they’re calling the after-hours line, it’s something they feel strongly about.

“Is it urgent?”

“Not emergent, but, yes, urgent.”

“All right, I’ll head there as soon as I can.”

Then I need to figure out how to tell Violet that we’re going to do this together, because I won’t lose her again.