“How are you doing, dear?” Verna adjusted her wide-brimmed straw hat to shield her eyes from the sun. The long purple ribbon that matched her violet-hued pantsuit fluttered in the breeze.
“About as well as can be expected, I suppose. I just—” Her voice caught. She guzzled more lemonade, determined to get through the next few hours—and the rapidly approaching goodbye—without tears. “I just can’t believe Sam’s really taking him away after the party.”
Her gaze instinctively found Max in the throng. He chatted animatedly with a few friends, Sam and Logan flanking him on either side. Logan stood so tall, so composed. Her rock. They’d get through this together, wouldn’t they?
Her mind flew to their upcoming wedding. One more week until the happiest day of her life. At the thought, guilt crept into her heart, co-mingling with her grief. How could her wedding day joy be complete without Max’s presence? A fresh wave of anguish crashed over her. Her throat cinched tighter. She gulped more lemonade, oblivious to the loud slurping sound of her straw sucking air.
Verna placed a gentle hand on her arm, wrenching her back to the present.
Abby jumped, jostling the ice in her glass.
Verna’s gaze softened with empathy. “I know it feels like Sam is taking Max away. And I can’t deny there’s some truth to that. We’re all going to miss him terribly. But the heart is a wondrous thing. It has the ability to hold someone close, to protect and preserve them. So no matter where they are, on this earth or in Heaven, they’re never truly gone. And no one can take that away from you.”
Undeterred by her cold palm, dampened by the beads of condensation coating her glass, Abby reached for Verna’s hand. She gave it a squeeze. “Thank you. That’s comforting. How do you always know the perfect thing to say?”
“Oh, probably due to several decades of saying the wrong thing,” Verna teased, her eyes twinkling. “If you’re lucky, you learn a thing or two.”
Abby laughed, surprised by the surge of relief that followed. Her pain wasn’t gone, but the edges dulled, making it easier to breathe. “Let’s give Max the best going-away party possible.”
Linking arms with Verna, she strode across the lawn toward Max, Logan, and Sam, repeating a silent prayer in her heart.
When the time finally comes to say goodbye, please don’t let it be forever.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
LOGAN
Logan stoodon the lawn beside Abby, watching their world detonate like a missile hitting its target. To think, not too long ago, they’d stood in that exact spot welcoming Max home. And now, he’d be leaving them again for who knew how long. Maybe forever.
Logan’s jaw clamped tighter.You can get through this.
Max chatted cheerily as Sam loaded Ron’s enclosure into the back seat of the run-down Camry. Strangely, Max had been in a chipper mood all day, completely unfazed by his impending departure. Not that Logan wanted the poor kid to be broken up about it, but he’d expectedsomeshow of emotion.
With all his belongings loaded in the car, Max skipped over to where Logan and Abby waited to say goodbye. “Thanks for the party! That was fun.”
“Glad you enjoyed it.” Abby smiled, but Logan knew she was dying inside. The woman deserved a medal.
Logan reached behind him for theTop Gunteddy bear he’d tucked into the waistband of his jeans. The scuffed leather jacket and aviator sunglasses had seen better days, but the gift from his grandmother had held up shockingly well over the years. “Here.”He offered Max the stuffed animal. “Maverick wants to go with you.”
“Really?” Max’s eyes widened with delight. He’d slept with the bear every night since he’d arrived—when Logan lent it to him for comfort—despite needing the occasional reassurance that eight wasn’t too old for stuffed animals.
Max had respectfully left the toy sitting on the bed when he’d packed up his belongings, and Logan had been surprised by how sharply the sight of the lone bear had affected him. “Yeah,” he said, burying the mental image. “Mav told me he likes that you don’t snore.”
Max grinned and grabbed the doll, hugging it to his chest. “I’ll take good care of him.”
“I know you will.” A lump formed in Logan’s throat, but he choked it down. Dropping to one knee, he pulled Max into his arms, holding him close, committing every sensory detail to memory, from his distinct scent to the dimensions of his small hand splayed against his back.
He’d always heard having a child changed a person, whether they were prepared for the transformation or not. Over the last several months, he’d experienced that truth firsthand. Max’s love—the pure, unconditional, unconstrained depths of it—had made him a better man in more ways than he could count. He’d do anything for Max, even give his own life—a sacrifice that, at that moment, seemed preferable to the piercing pain of goodbye tearing through him.
When Max started to squirm, he realized he’d reached the maximum time allotted for a reasonable hug. Closing his eyes, he whispered a barely audible “I love you, Max” before letting him go.
Max said goodbye to Abby next, fitting effortlessly in her arms.
She gently cupped the back of his head with her hand, cradling him against her heart. “You will always,alwayshave a place here,” she murmured in a surprisingly steady voice. How had she managed to keep it together this long?
“I know,” Max said brightly, as if he didn’t quite understand their mushy display of emotion.
Sitting back on her heels, Abby reached for his hands, holding his gaze. For the first time that day—that Logan had noticed—she let the tears well in her eyes. “I love you, Max Bailey. Always and forever. I want you to know that.”
