Page 50 of Silver Brewer

Could she leave?

She can’t. She’s waiting on a baby.

I don’t like the odds of hopeless, so I smile through clenched teeth as we make our way through the morning with my departure weighing heavily between us.

When we return to her place, time becomes awkward. It’s almost as if we know I need to leave too soon.

“I can’t thank you enough for coming to the wedding.” It was only the reception and not long enough, but I lean forward and press my forehead to hers as we stand in her living room. “It was the best of surprises.”

“Why do I feel like this is goodbye?”

“Isn’t it?” she softly asks, and her voice cracks. I pull back to find a tear slipping down her cheek.

“Cricket, what’s this?” I tenderly swipe at the tear, holding her face in my hands.

“I’m never going to see you again, am I?” Another tear falls.

“Do you want to see me again?” I weakly smile with hope.

“Yes.” Her enthusiastic nod brings a quiet chuckle from me.

“Then let’s work this out, okay? In two weeks, the pub hosts an Oktoberfest. Can you come back to Georgia?”

“I think so. Let me check my calendar.” She pauses, another tear slipping from her eye. “I’ll make it work.”

“There’s my Cricket. She never gives up.” I lean in for her mouth, and we kiss through her salty tears before I have to tear myself away and head back to Georgia.

20

Home visits

[Letty]

Giant wants to pick me up in Atlanta, and I can’t contain myself when I see him. I leap for him when he greets me at the airport. I pepper his face with kisses, locking my legs around his waist although I’m certain I’m too heavy for him. He’s laughing until his mouth catches mine, and then he holds me in place, kissing me hard before pulling free.

“That’s better than any homecoming, and I’m already home.” Giant doesn’t talk much about his military experiences, but over the past two weeks, we’ve talked every night on the phone and sent sexy texts throughout the day.

“I’ve missed you,” I blurt, not shy of my feelings at the moment. I’m so happy to see him, and his expression matches mine. He grabs my bag and my hand, and then we head to his truck. It’s a beautiful day as we climb the mountain, and he tells me more about Oktoberfest.

“The event is Billy’s grand idea to draw people into the pub and celebrate our beer. It’s worked. He’s been surprisingly successful.” I have all the Harringtons straight in my head, but I’m nervous to meet them. It’s obvious from our nightly conversations that his siblings are close minus James, and even there, Giant misses the brother below him in birth order. Their parents—Elaina and George—are still important to them, too. I want to make a good impression, a lasting one, even if I don’t know how long Giant and I will last.

We plan to stay at his home. He has some obligations to Oktoberfest the following morning, but he promises me they won’t take long. His house is on the edge of town, and it’s closer than the cabin. I’ll miss the mountain, but I’m excited to see where he lives. I’m also anxious. This will be the home he shared with his deceased wife, so I worry there will be hundreds of reminders of her.

I’m gently surprised when there isn’t. The living room is masculine with a bright red plaid couch and two brown leather chairs, one well-worn from a big body. A large stone fireplace is the focal point, whitewashed with a built-in bookshelf on one side. The dining area is behind the couch with the kitchen next to it. It’s one great room. The space is neat and minimal, and all male minus any sign of his deceased wife.

“Did you…do you have pictures of her?”

He stops where he’s walking, sets down my bag, and turns to face me. “I used to keep pictures of her everywhere until one day I just couldn’t look any longer. So I boxed them all up. I keep one in my room, but I put it away.” His eyes drift to the floor, sheepish of his decision.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to hide her. You were married, happily, and she died. It’s okay.” I wish to reassure him, but I don’t know how. I don’t have experience with a man who has already been married, who has already loved another. He isn’t comfortable discussing her with me, but I know he’ll tell me anything I ask about her.

I just feel like I’m betraying her and hurting you when we talk about her.

I can respect his feelings.

“I feel better with the picture down,” he says. I step up to him and cup his face.

“I’m honored to be here.” He glances up and over my shoulder.