‘There’s my hero,'' my mother says as I enter her living room to find both her and Aunt Joan each working on their own projects. Mom quilting, my aunt crocheting, the two of them could fill their own store with all the finished projects they’ve made.

  “How was your shift?” She asks as I lean over to kiss her cheek. “And why didn’t you bring my sweet granddaughter to see me?”

  “Haven’t even gone home yet.” My mother’s place is on the way. “I thought Chloe was here with Lay for dinner last night?”

  “She was,” my ma smiles, “but I can never get enough time with our sweet angel. She keeps this Granny happy when I’m feeling down.” Her eyes filling with tears.

  “You never answered me,” my mother hurries to clear away her emotions. “Was your shift good?”

  “Nothing crazy, which is a good thing.” You never want to say the word quiet in a firehouse, but it was definitely that. Made for a lot of time to think, a lot of time to reflect.

  “What’s troubling you?” I glance over at my aunt to find her watching me. A knowing look on her face. Immediately I look back at my mother to find she has now stopped what she was doing and is now watching me too.

  “I’m good,” I swallow hard, trying to rid the burning sensation in my throat.

  “And you have never been able to lie to me,” my ma smiles, reaching out her hand. I give her mine and she offers a squeeze.

  “Is everything okay with you and Chloe?”

  “Chloe is amazing,” I confess without pause. “I still can’t figure out how I got a girl like her.” It’s true, every single day when I look at her and Allayah I think to myself, I’m one lucky man. They are the light in my life, the good in every bad. They make me a better man.

  “Because you are a good man,” my aunt interrupts my thoughts, regaining my attention. “So if it’s not Chloe then what is it?”

  I realize the two of them have no intentions of letting go of my slip-up. I didn’t come here to bring anyone down, but honestly it didn’t hit me until I walked through the door and into this living room. Seeing my father’s chair in the corner with the very came blanket he always tossed over his lap wrapped over the arm.

  “It just feels so empty,” my vision clouds with unshed tears and I hate that I’m falling apart. My mother doesn’t need this, not now. She lives here, she sees him in every room, hears his boots against the hardwood floor, the smell of coffee every morning because the man was up before the roosters on a daily basis.

  “It does,” I glance at my mother to find she too has unshed tears in her eyes. Immediately I feel the guilt swarm my chest. “But it also feels like he’s still here with me. It’s in every little detail of this place. The chip in the countertop where he dropped the hammer, the scratches on the door frame where he tried to move out the old television stand on his own and misjudged the width.” She smiles as if she can almost picture that very day.

  I don’t know if I’ve ever truly grieved the loss of my father. I know I cried, I know I sat in a room staring at nothing in particular unable to fathom he was no longer near, but I’m not sure I ever broke.

  “I wish he was here to see Allayah grow up.” I confess and I guess that’s the biggest hurt of all. I want her to know my father. I want my daughter to grow up with his impact on her. He was a hard man, but he was also so involved. I imagine him to be a doting Grandfather and I can picture Allayah old enough to walk and dragging my father around by his hand.

  “I don’t understand why this is all hitting me now?” I look to the floor at my feet and fight the urge to cry. I need to be stronger for my mother, I know this. “I should go.”

  I start to stand and she grabs my arm, forcing me to remain where I am.

  “He was so proud of you,” I let out a slow shuddering breath at her words. “I know sometimes he was unreadable and that made it hard to determine just how he felt, but one thing I can assure you of, is you were his greatest accomplishment.”

  Tears fall, and I don't even try to stop them.

  “You are so much like him,” I laugh and she smiles. “I know at times the two of you butted heads but that is because you were cut from the same cloth. Family was everything to him and seeing you with Chloe and Allayah I know that runs through you too.”

  “And you Ma,” I tell her, our gazes lock. “You mean everything too.”

  “I know this,” Aunt Joan is quietly observing us. She never had any children so when she lost her husband the only one she had left was my mother.

  “You fall apart if you need to, yell, get angry, whatever you need. Then you go home to your girls and you love them like your father loved us. Don’t let a day go by that they don’t know just how much they mean to you. Even when your father and I were angry with one another he always ended the night with an I love you. Yes, the tone may have been less affectionate at times, but he never ended a day without saying those words.”

  I remember those times, him pretty much yelling it out, even with his nostrils flaring and I can laugh about it now.

  “We will always miss him, there will never be a day that it doesn’t hurt, but we love like he’d want us to. We lean on each other when needed because he would never want us to suffer alone.”

  eight

  Chloe

  It’s late when Landon gets home. I’d already put Allayah to bed and just stepping out of the shower when he enters our bedroom. There I stand in the doorway with a towel wrapped around my body and instantly I can tell something is wrong.

  His shoulders sag, and he has a sadness in his eyes that make my chest ache.

  He holds my stare, and I don’t move, only give him the time I believe he needs.

  He takes a deep breath then moves toward me, cupping my face with his hands. “I love you,” his voice is shaking and his lip trembles. Seeing him like this does something to me, something I can’t quite put into words.

  Landon is not the kind of man that bears his heartaches. He is strong and sure and this, this is crippling.

  “I love you so much that I can barely breathe at the idea of one day not having you, or not being here with you,” he shakes his head, unable to finish his words. I am baffled, I don’t know what’s happened but I know whatever it is has left him shaken.

  His lips press against mine and I close my eyes accepting his kiss.

  “You are my world,” he whispers against my lips. “You and Allayah, I adore the two of you. You are my light.”

  With that he carefully loosens the towel around my body and it falls to the floor. His hands roam over my body, stopping at my hips to lead me over to our bed. Feeling the mattress at the back of my legs he hooks my waist and lowers me to the bed.

  I stare up at him, as his gaze roams over me slowly. I watch in awe as he grabs his shirt and lifts it over his head, dropping it to the floor.

  My pulse quickens, my body comes alive as I watch him remove the rest of his clothes and he crawls up the bed, positioning himself over me.

  He holds my stare, and part of me wants to ask him what’s happened, but knowing more than anything he needs this. I know he’ll tell me, he always shares his bad days, needing to get out what’s eating him up inside, but first he needs to feel grounded. I ground him.

  The very moment he pushes inside of me, my back arches and I hold my breath, trying to adjust.

  “You and me, baby,” he whispers, “you and me.” He repeats as he begins to move, my thoughts bouncing all over the place. Landon makes love to me, there is nothing hurried about his movements, nothing frantic or desperate. I feel like this is more of an emotional connection than a physical one, which only terrifies me more.

  Landon is a sexual man; he shares his feelings but it's rare, as he thinks he has to remain strong while everyone else falls apart. I hate that he places all that on his shoulders, one can’t keep things bottled up without one day bursting. I don’t want him to burst, the idea of that frightens me. Not because I’m scared, but more worried of what that may do to the man I love.

  Hours later, after he is spent and lightly snoring at my side I remain fully awake, unable to shut off my racing mind. He is withdrawn, normally he holds me close, almost like he needs to feel me to sleep soundly. Only now he sleeps on his back, slightly turned away, his arms and hands tucked in close to his body and his legs on his own side of the bed.

  My chest feels so tight.

  I don’t like this separated feeling.

  I fight the tears pooling in my eyes and I know I’m on the verge of falling apart, so I slide out from beneath the covers and tiptoe out of our bedroom, finding my way to the couch. Grabbing the oversized blanket I wrap it around me securely and tuck myself into the corner, leaning my head on the back of the couch.

  The moon shines in through the back windows, as I stare at the family photo on the table near the back wall. Landon sits on the floor, me sitting between his parted knees, leaning back into his body as I hold Laya and we are both looking down at her. Our little angel, created in love and that is the moment I find it impossible to hold back any longer.

  The tears spill over and run along my cheeks.

  “What are you doing?” My body jerks in response to the sound of his voice and I hurry to right myself. Quickly wiping away the tears, I look through the darkness of the room and see Landon standing in the opening of the hallway, with his hands on his hips. He wears only his boxers, his hair sticking out all over from sleep.

  “Nothing,” I say, realizing I have yet to answer him. “Just couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to wake you.”

  Landon doesn’t say anything, but instead starts to walk across the room toward me. I focus on my breathing, hoping that he doesn’t pick up on the fact that I’ve been crying. I know the man I married that will be a breaking point, he hates to see me cry. He hates it worse when he knows it's triggered by him.

  “Baby,” the tone of his voice confirms that I don’t hide my worries well.

  Within seconds he’s on the couch next to me, reaching out to pull my body in closer to his. Brushing my hair from my face and rests his forehead on mine. “It’s not us,” he says and my lower lip trembles. “You and me, we’re unbreakable.”

  I nod, though I’m unsure, because right now I feel like the two of us are so far apart.

  “I miss him,” Landon sounds confused and I feel his body sag against mine. “My father and I butted heads daily, we were both stubborn as hell and neither felt we should give in, but damnit Chloe, I even fucking miss arguing with the man.”

  I lean back and see that his eyes are shining with tears.

  His father.

  Landon has been so closed off regarding the loss since the day it happened. He sat in the funeral home while so many offered their condolences and held his mother up. He never broke, he never cried, at least not where I or anyone else could see.

  “Don’t you for a second think that there is ever a chance you and I wouldn't be an us. I’m not good at the feelings thing, you know that, but I need you to know that we are solid. There’s nothing in my life more whole than our little family. I love you Chloe, I love you and my little girl fiercely. I never meant to give you doubt, babe. I just don’t know how to face that he’s gone.”

  “I’m not worried,” the last thing he needs right now is someone else to take care of and soothe. He needs to feel, he needs to know that it's okay to be upset and maybe even fall apart a little.

  “You were, and you still are,” he kisses me softly. “Because if you weren’t you wouldn’t be out here by yourself with only your thoughts to keep you awake. I didn’t handle this well and I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay,” I quickly attempt to regain my composure.

  “It’s not,” he says, smiling for the first time since he came home hours ago. “But it will be. As long as I have you and Laya, it will be. You girls give me everything I need.”

  “It’s okay to miss him ya know,” I lift my hand and drag my thumb along his jaw. “It’s okay to be sad, and it's okay to feel Landon. You don’t have to spend every minute of each day taking care of everyone around you. You need to take care of you, You need to allow yourself to grieve. Your father was a good man, he was so good to me from the start.”

  “He always took your side on everything.”

  I laugh remembering how many times he’d stand behind me against Landon just to get a rise out of his son.

  “Smart man,” I add and again Landon smiles. “Anyone on the outside could see how much he loved you.” I notice the way Landon’s throat bobs as he swallows hard. “You need to allow yourself to feel,” he nods though I’m not sure he’s truly hearing me. “Fall apart for once and let me hold you.”

  He lifts his gaze to meet mine and I offer him a soft nod, just before he moves in and wraps his arms around me. Within seconds I feel his body tremble and I know for once; he’s letting himself cave to the ache he feels inside.

  And... I’m grateful.

  nine

  Landon

  “Are they here yet?” I ask looking around the diner in search of Chloe’s parents. I’m not sure if she told them that I was having a rough time, but Ben called this morning insisting we meet him and his wife for breakfast.

  “Over there,” Chloe points and starts in the direction of her parents.

  Laya wiggles in my arms, already trying her best to break free and I hold her tighter. She is much like her daddy and hates to be restrained in any way. She loves her freedom to kick and wail.

  Ben stands when we reach the table and Leann follows. Both of them are eager to take their granddaughter. It is obvious. Neither one of them is looking at me or Chloe, but staring at Laya with smiles.

  “How’s my little bug?” Leann is almost giddy, her fingers wiggling and she is humming with excitement.

  “I’m good Leann, thanks, how are you?” I smile, Chloe giggles and Ben too, smirks.

  It takes a moment for Leann to catch on and she rolls her eyes, but smiles too. Repositioning Laya I pass her off to her grandma and once again it's like no one else exists. Leann sits, holding the baby close to her chest, kissing the top of her head.

  “How’s work?” Ben asks as we all sit down.

  “Good,” I say as I reach out to help Chloe remove her coat. “Brooklet is normally quiet until it's not.” I chuckle, and he agrees. “Mainly minor calls, long nights of the guys heckling one another out of boredom, you have to sleep with one eye open for sure.”

  “What can I get you two to drink?” Our waitress stands at the edge of the table with her notepad in hand.

  “Coffee,” I say, then look over at my wife.

  “I’ll just have ice water.”

  The place is packed, with people standing in line waiting for the first available table. The conversations are swarming around us, people laughing and the clinking of glasses and plates echo over the dining room.

  Reaching under the table I place my hand on Chloe’s thigh and she rests hers atop mine. Offering me a gentle squeeze I feel my nerves begin to settle. I’m not even sure why I feel so flipped around, all I do know it's Chloe who grounds me.

  “I had a really nice visit with your mom and your aunt this morning.” I look toward Leann to find she isn’t looking at me but at my daughter. “I have a friend Margaret in Statesboro who owns a store called Whisper.”

  I’ve heard of it, mainly from the ladies in the family talking about how each piece is unique and no matter what you buy from there, no one else will ever have the exact replica.

  “She has people from all over the world, submitting online orders.”

  I’m still not sure exactly why Leann is telling me this, but I continue to listen and wait. I’m sure there is a point.

  I glance at Leann and she is looking over the menu, both Chloe and her father are chatting back and forth. It's then I know that Chloe expressed her concerns and this isn’t just a casual breakfast.

  “I showed Margaret your mother and your aunts work.” Leann finally lifts her gaze to meet my own. “She was in awe.”

  My mother has always loved quilting and crocheting but she's been more active with it now and I know it's to help with the fact that she misses my father so much.

  “She is going to display both your mother and your aunts work. There is also a company that goes around to all the hospitals both here and in other states offering blankets to patients undergoing cancer treatments and dialysis. They are interested in working with them as well, after Margaret sent them images of the blankets they make.”

  I feel my chest grow tight, knowing that this is Leann watching out for my mother too and I am so thankful. Ben and Leann are good people. They are kind and caring and I swear it makes me love them more. They are family.

  "I know you worry about your mother.” This time it's Ben that speaks. “Hell, Landon, I know you worry about everyone and you push yourself to the point of exhaustion to make everything perfect for our daughter and granddaughter. That right there is why I don’t worry quite as bad about them. I know that you protect them and care for them like no one else could. But in order to continue to do that you have to take care of yourself.”

  I nod, feeling like I can’t form words.

  “You miss him all you need to,” Ben adds. “Don’t ever feel like you can’t give yourself that. You need to get rid of some anger and frustration you come find me. We’ll work through it together.”

  It’s hard for me to accept defeat. But losing my father, it's gutting me, but something I can’t do is let it destroy me.

  “Thank you,” I say looking at both Leann and Ben. “Both of you” I clarify and lean over to kiss Chloe on the cheek. I know it’s because of her I am where I am, surrounded by people that only want to support me. People that love me, and I need to let them do just that.

  I look up from my place on the couch as Chloe walks out of the bedroom and into the kitchen. Wearing a pair of those tight leggings and an oversized sweater, comfortable but so damn beautiful.