Page 25 of The Compass Series

KENNEDY - PRESENT DAY

I went out to the field of flowers every day that week. I’d sit in the middle of the beauty and practice my breathing. One breath in, one breath out, heart still beating, I’m still here.

I’d stay in that field as long as possible, feeling as if I was returning to my roots, getting back to the person I used to be.

Late one evening, as I sat amidst the daisies, Jax appeared, looking a bit shaken up.

The moment he noticed me, he took a step backward, as if he was going to retreat, but some kind of heaviness sat in his eyes as he stared my way.

I wondered if he saw the heaviness in my eyes, too.

I patted the spot beside me for him to join, but I had strong doubts that he would take the invitation.

My breath caught in my throat as he took a step forward and walked in my direction.

In the stillness of the night, Jax sat beside me.

After that night, I learned when he traveled to the field, and he learned my periods of meditation, too.

I couldn’t stop myself from arriving whenever I knew he’d be there, and he kept showing up whenever I was sitting upon that bench.

Time would speed forward and somehow stand still all at once when I was out there with Jax.

When it felt as if nothing in the world made sense, at least sitting in that field calmed me.

We didn’t talk out there. It was as if words weren’t even needed for us to find our common thread of peacefulness.

His stillness felt so comforting, as if his silence was the warmest blanket he was wrapping around me.

Never in my life had I known silence could feel so good until I sat beside Jax Kilter.

It wasn’t until late one afternoon, after about an hour of sitting, that I built up the courage to finally break our silence with words. It was quiet, almost a whisper. If nature hadn’t been so still, he would’ve missed the words falling off my tongue.

“Daisy,” I said, staring out at the field of flowers. “My daughter’s name was Daisy. I named her after my favorite flower.”

Jax turned toward me with a perplexed look on his face. “So when you came upon this field…”

I sniffled and brushed my hand beneath my nose, then nodded.

“It kind of knocked me backward. The day before, I’d asked my parents for a sign, a sign that everything would be okay, that somehow I’d find my footing again, and then I went for a walk in the woods and found a field of daisies.

I figured that was the sign my parents sent me. ”

His elbows rested on his knees, his hands clasped together as he stared forward. “I don’t believe in signs.”

“What do you believe in?”

His brows furrowed, and a vein in his throat throbbed as he stayed quiet.

Nothing.

He believed in nothing.

That had to be hard. If I didn’t have my little beliefs, my small trusts in the universe, I was almost certain I would’ve died a long time ago right alongside my loved ones.

“It must be tough…not having anything to believe in.”

“I’ve made it through this far.”

“That doesn’t mean it was easy.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t. It’s good that you believe in signs. I wish I could myself sometimes.”

I smiled. “It’s never too late to start believing in something.”

“It probably is for me. Old dog, new tricks and all.” He scratched at the scruff on his chin and cleared his throat. “So, the tattoo on your wrist is for her?” he asked. “Your daughter?”

I looked down to the daisy tattoo with the backward D inside it and nodded. My mind went back to my last night with Penn when Marybeth asked about my tattoo—the way he scolded me for being unable to control my emotions, the way he shamed me for falling apart.

“Yeah, it is.”

“Why is the D backward?”

“It’s…I…” My chest tightened, and I felt myself starting to lose the battle with my mind.

Jax must’ve realized it. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” he said.

But that wasn’t it. I wanted to talk about it.

I needed to talk about my little girl. It was how I’d been able to keep her alive in my mind, but Penn was so against any conversations that related to her.

He said it made it too hard for him to move on.

Maybe that was our biggest problem: he wanted to move on while I wanted to hold on.

We were pulling one another in two completely different directions.

Of course it wasn’t going to last. It was only a matter of time before our seam ripped.

“No, I want to, it’s just that I get emotional talking about it. My husband hated that about me—how emotional I became when I talked about our daughter. He hated whenever I brought her up.”

“No offense, Kennedy, but your husband sounds like an asshole.”

I laughed. “He had his moments. I’m sure I wasn’t the best wife in the world. I didn’t make things easy for him.”

“Yeah, well, I still get to hate him. But go ahead,” he said, nudging my leg. “Talk about her.”

I inhaled deeply and released it. “She was with me for six beautiful years. When she began writing her name, she’d write her Ds backward, every single time.

I’d correct her over and over again. One day when I was telling her yet again that she was writing it wrong, she told me, with her hands on her hips, ‘It’s fine, Mommy.

Don’t take life so seriously. Ds can be backward, too.

’” I laughed, wiping the tears that had fallen from my eyes.

“I got the tattoo to remind myself of that idea, that I shouldn’t take life too seriously.

I’m still working on absorbing that message. ”

“What else?” he asked me.

I arched an eyebrow. “You want to know more about her?”

“Yes, if you want to share.”

My broken heartbeats began to take shape again.

I shifted around a bit and sat up in my chair.

“Well, okay. She loved—and I mean loved—bubbles. Whenever we were upset, we’d blow a million bubbles into the air and keep doing it until we were laughing.

It became a fact to us that you couldn’t be sad if there were a million bubbles surrounding you. ”

He smiled.

Jax smiled.

Gosh, I hadn’t known I needed his smile until he gave it to me.

“What else?” he asked me.

“What do you mean?”

“What else do you want to share about her?”

I arched an eyebrow. “You want to know more about her?”

“Yes. If you want to share.”

I gave him more. I gave him all the details about my sweet little angel, and the way she changed my life for the better.

From her favorite television shows to her favorite color.

From the way she loved butterflies and chocolate cake.

Then, he let me talk about my parents. How Mama’s singing voice sounded like an angel.

How Daddy would tell the worst jokes in the world, and they would still be funny.

How Mama snorted, how Daddy laughed like a hyena. How Daisy loved to dance in the rain.

Once the words started pouring out of my mouth, the tears that were falling turned into laughter. Laughing. I was laughing from the memories. When the laughter died down, we both sat there quiet as the sky grew darker and darker.

He cleared his throat. “I have to go visit my father at the nursing home.”

“Oh, okay. Do you need anything? Is there anything I can do? If you need someone to talk to about?—”

“Sun.”

“Yes?”

He gave me a sad grin. “I’m not there yet.”

I could respect that.

He stood to his feet and held his hand toward me. “Can I walk you home through the woods?”

I took his hand. The spark was there—it never left.

We walked in silence, and when we reached my house, I thanked him.

His hands were stuffed in his pockets, and swayed back and forth in his shoes as if he had something on his mind that he was trying to share.

“What is it?”

“Daisies were my mother’s favorite flower. I planted them out there for her and to hear that that was your daughter’s name makes it feel…” He snickered to himself and shook his head. “Kismet.”

I smiled ear to ear. “What is this? Is Jax Kilter believing in destiny as we know it?”

“Don’t hold your breath. I’m just saying.

” He shifted uncomfortably as he stared at my yard.

“I can help you with the landscaping at your place if you need a hand. I’m sure Lars pulling out made it tricky to find someone else.

My mother was a landscaper. I used to help her when I was younger, and I did the work in the woods.

If you need a hand, I can do the landscaping for you. ”

My mother was a landscaper.

The word ‘was’ stood out more than I wanted it to.

Oh, Jax.

Let me hug you.

My lips parted in shock from his offer. “Really?”

“I don’t need the commission. Connor will help me out with the project.”

“I…that…” I fought the urge to wrap my arms around him and breathe him in. “Yes. Please. That would be amazing.”

“I’ll get supplies and get started later this week. If you have a plan, let me know. Otherwise, I can whip some blueprints together to go over with you. Just make a list of your favorite flowers and what not, any concepts you want included, and we can go from there.”

“That would be great.”

“Okay. I better get going.”

“Thanks again, Jax—for listening to the stories about my parents and my daughter.”

“I’ll listen to every story you ever tell about them whenever you want to share.”

He disappeared back into the woods, and the butterflies he left with me? They kept on fluttering.