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Now it’s my turn to tear up. I whirl around, wiping at my eyes with my sleeve.
I was going to leave the plaques and notes for them to find in their rooms, but suddenly I’m changing my mind.
“Hang on, guys. I have something for you. I’ll be right back.”
Leaving the letters I’d written to both of them in my room, because those are my final farewell, I carry the two plaques back into the kitchen.
“Here you go. I made these for both of you last night,” I whisper, laying them out on the table.
They’re terribly simple, just bone-white, heart-shaped pieces of homemade clay with Bruce’s print embedded in the center.
But the way the girls ooh and ahhh, anyone would think I just handed them the crown jewels.
“Willow, thank you. Thank you! This is the most precious thing ever,” Avery gushes, her tears turning to diamond trails rolling down her cheeks.
“Glad you like it, munchkin. I left them white so you can paint them if you want. Just be very careful. You could even have your dad help shellac them and plant them outside. Right by the tiger lilies we rescued.”
“I might someday,” Sawyer says with a wavering smile. “I’m gonna keep it beside my bed for now, so I can think about him and you every night.”
“I like that idea,” I tell her. Then, looking at Grady, I say, “If it’s all right with your dad, I’ll take you to the barn so you can have one more quick look. It’ll only be five minutes.”
Grady keeps his gaze averted, but nods.
“That’s fine, I guess, if you hurry.”
I lead them outside then, very deliberately keeping my eyes on the barn, fighting the urge to look back.
Because if I do, if I see his sad, hard, hangdog face one more time...
No.
Just no.
I can’t let it end like this, but it’s already dying, and it’s a slow acid drip on my soul.
It doesn’t take long for the girls to wave Bruce farewell behind the chain-link mesh. He even stands up, licks his chops, and shows off his princely coat of tangerine cut with fierce black zigzags.
The cat lets out a final loud rolling purr for them that they love.
If I had my head on straight, this is a moment I’d kill to capture for research, a raging question in the interspecies emotional IQ of Bengal tigers.
Instead, I’m so effing shredded it’s hard to even stand.
But their smiles make me feel so much better, even as a hot tear races down my cheek, and they’re far more agreeable about going to Joyce’s when we return to the house. They head upstairs to pack their bags.
Alone again, Grady shakes his head and shrugs.
“Thanks. Those plaques are a hell of a nice touch. Really thoughtful,” he says.
It’s not my place, but I can’t help what comes pouring out.
“Look, I know you’re just trying to protect them, Grady, but I wish you’d realize...there are some things not even you can protect them from. Saying goodbye is one of those things. It’s a part of life. And they just did it without hurting a hair on their heads. They’ll have a new memory to cherish, even if they’re sad right now.”
“Maybe so. There are some things I don’t want them exposed to, and that’s how it’s gonna stay,” he says firmly.
His dark-brown eyes cut me so deep, but I’m too proud and too stubborn to let him see me cry over losing him.
“I know. I understand. I just think learning how to cope, how to deal with things, is better than avoiding them.” I step around him. “I’ll go see if they need any help packing.”
Joyce arrives a short time later, and though I hadn’t seen her since that first day they came home, she’s as friendly as ever, bubbly as if we’re long-lost friends.
I assure her the head lice panic ended without issue, and I hold on to each girl a little longer than I normally would when I hug them bye.
Joyce’s car is barely out of sight when Faulk arrives, closely followed by Drake, Hank, Weston, and Ridge. His butler—or valet as he calls him—Tobin, is also along for the ride. To my surprise, Tory, Bella, and Grace are there with their husbands, as well as Roberta, Hank’s girlfriend.
“What’s this?” Grady booms behind me, coming outside.
“You called the cavalry, man, so we came in force,” Ridge says with his billion-dollar movie-star smile. “More hands on deck than you could need, and let’s hope it’s more than enough.”
They congregate in the kitchen like it’s a makeshift war room. Tobin starts brewing coffee. The women try to make pleasant conversation, but I mostly just nod and mutter a few words.
I’m sick with nerves.
Everyone here is now a part of my mess.
I have to see this through.
18
Wrapped in a Woman’s Hide (Grady)
