Page 113 of Fall Over You

My mom kept calling me to ask when I was coming over while I was trying to revive my girlfriend, the mother of my child. Thank god Ellie was still a baby and probably doesn’t remember it, but I’ll always wonder what damage it might have done to her.

I told my parents what had really happened that night once CJ was in rehab. Mom didn’t want me to take her back at all. Dad issued no opinion, but tried to be there in that steadfast way of his.

Mom was probably right, but I wasn’t ready to hear it. I sometimes think she was happy when CJ finally left for good, because then I didn’t have to make the call.

This October hasn’t been as hard to bear.

I didn’t mention my birthday to Becca, though I bet she can remember when it is from when we were kids. Dad and Dusty know I like to keep things quiet. I’ll have to see Mom Sunday for a birthday dinner, and I’ll pretend everything’s fine.

At least I’ll have Becca by my side. I take comfort in that as I park at her house—our house.

But most of the lights are off and the house is quiet.

“Reba? El?” I peek into the kitchen to find a bright piece of paper on the counter.

At the cottage. Come when you’re ready.

Love,

Shug and Reba and T-Bone the Turkey Buzzard

I smile as I head for the stairs.

Love. She just put it in there like it’s nothing, and I’m sure from the outside everyone assumes we have it. At some point in the beginning of our marriage, I’d have called it absurd. But when I look back, even on our wedding day, we had the first early tendrils of love.

Because I couldn’t stand the thought of Becca being sad on a special day. Because I couldn’t wait to dance with her so I could hold her more. Because I couldn’t let her work herself to the bone cutting pumpkins off the vine after our wedding.

Here, weeks later, that feeling has only grown, sometimes in little steps, and sometimes in big, sweeping bounds.

I keep that same smile on as I’m walking out to the cottage with my flashlight. I can see Becca in the front window, waving to me with Ellie in her arms. Ellie waves too, then squirms to get down and runs toward the back of the house. All the other lights in the front of the house turn off but that one room, and some tiny, hopeful part of me thinks maybe the girls made me a cake. That might make for the perfect birthday for me, just having the two—fine, three, you win, T-Bone—of them and a little treat.

“Where’s my girls?” I call out as I flip the lights on. Doggie paws jab into my stomach at the same time an ear-splitting “SURPRISE!” comes from a room full of people.

I jump backward against the wall next to the door with my hand on my heart, but T-Bone nudges my hand away and licks at it as emphatically as always.

“Oh . . . my god.”

Everyone is here.

Becca and Ellie. Dusty, Ronnie, and Ada. Becca’s mom and mamaw. My parents. Jake and Darcy, plus Darcy’s aunt and uncle. Caleb, sporting a t-shirt with a raccoon on it.

I’m standing here in shock, petting T-Bone where she’s still balanced with her front paws on me.

And the whole place smells like fresh paint.

Becca steps forward with Ellie on her hip, grinning up at me.

“Happy birthday, Big Daddy,” she croons.

My throat thickens, my eyes are hot, and my nose stings.

This is what it’s like to feel loved and seen and appreciated.

I haven’t felt this way once since Ellie was born, and maybe even since I’ve been an adult. Now it’s a straight-line wind threatening to knock me all the way over.

I slip my hand into the back of Becca’s hair and pull her in for a firm kiss, drawing a whoop from all our guests. When we pull apart, she giggles. “Sorry. I know you probably hate this.”

I shake my head and reach to take Ellie from her, giving her a big kiss on the cheek. “Absolutely not. I love it.”