Page 11 of Dandelions and Smoke

A huff of laughter escapes me before I begin telling her where to go. As she navigates the last stretch of road, I consider her words from earlier, and with a deep breath, I find the courage to share with her something I rarely talk about, though almost everyone in my life and this small town already knows.

“Last year, on my son’s first birthday, my wife, or I should say ex-wife, said she wanted a divorce. By that summer, she was gone, taking our son with her.” I pause to gauge her reaction, but oddly enough, she doesn’t have one.

There’s no judgment in her face, no shift of discomfort. She nods her head, so I keep going.

“I wish I could say I was surprised, but I wasn’t. We were high school sweethearts, but by the time those papers landed in front of me, I hardly knew her anymore. I wasn’t the husband she deserved. We lost a baby before my son, Scout, was born. I thought things would get better, but…” I realize the heaviness of the information dump I’m unloading on her, but now that I’ve started, there’s no going back. I fully expect her to kick me out of the car as quickly as possible as we reach the Fire Station.

Instead, she puts the car in park, pulls her legs into her chest on the driver’s side seat, and turns her body toward me, giving me her undivided attention with a look of understanding in her eyes that has me wondering what it is that she’s carrying herself.

“Today’s his birthday. I haven’t been allowed to see him since Christmas.” My voice cracks. “She won’t let me. I know I wasn’t the husband she needed, but I’ve always tried to be the best dad I could be. I love my son more than anything in this world, and the idea of him growing up without me is slowly destroying me.”

She inhales a shuddering breath, and a tear rolls down her cheek, like the pain I’m feeling has now been shared, and she feels it too.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.” My stomach sinks as I take in the anguish etched into her face.

“No, stop. I’m glad you told me.” She wipes at her eyes before looking up, then back at me with a sad smile. “I’m so sorry. That doesn’t seem fair, though. Isn’t there something you can do? Someone you can call? A lawyer? No one should grow up without a parent, especially one who wants to be in their child’s life as obviously as you do.”

A slow smile tilts at my lips as I watch her come up with ways to fix this for me, like it’s the most important thing to her. Unfortunately, there isn’t a single path down this road that won’t end up hurting my ex or causing her more pain than I already have.

Guilt fills me, pressing down on me as I remember how she felt alone in our marriage, how I left her alone. That’s what she told me, but I wasn’t listening. Not until it was already over for both of us.

I wasn’t there for her when she needed me. I ran away and buried myself in my job. We lost our little girl, and because of it, I almost lost her too. I push the dark memory from my mind, refusing to go down that road again tonight, but the truth stays the same: she almost didn’t make it. Who the hell am I now to be making demands?

I’m trying my best to give her the time she needs to heal and to allow me to be a part of our son’s life in her own time, but the longer it takes, the emptier I feel. It’s a constant war between what I want and the guilt I carry. If this is what my ex-wife wants, if this is what will make her happy, I don’t want to force her hand. I just want to see my son.

“It’s okay,” I force out, interrupting one of the many strings of plans this pink curly-haired mystery woman has laid out in the matter of minutes. It’s sweet and thoughtful beyond measure. She barely knows me, but she’s ready to pick up a hypothetical sword and go to battle for my happiness.

“It’s not,” she quips, her brows drawn together.

She’s adorable when she’s angry, and I find myself tilting my head, smiling back at her.

“Who helps you when it all gets too heavy?” I ask, my curiosity awakening as the rest of what I’m feeling slips to the back of my mind with a sudden realization. “Tonight with you has been the first time in months that I’ve had any semblance of a good time. And trust me, those guys you met tonight have tried.”

We both chuckle, and the air between us shifts as my eyes drag from her eyes to her bottom lip that she holds between her teeth.

“Somehow, though, you’re the only one who has managed.”

The crease between her brows slowly disappears. “What can I say? I’m magical,” she jokes, but there’s a sadness behind her eyes that I don’t think belongs to me.

Her face is like an open door, every thought and emotion laid bare without remorse. She inhales deeply and quirks her lips to one side. Her gaze is distant as she looks out the windshield and watches the drizzle that mists over the glass. That same slow smile fills her face before she turns her attention back to me.

“I hope you don’t have a far drive home.”

“I actually live above the Fire Station now.” I point to the windows above the bay where we park the rigs.

“Oh, well, that’s convenient,” she replies. “I think I’d still manage to be late for work, though.” She lifts a shoulder with a laugh.

“What about you? Do you have somewhere close by to go?”

She pulls her bottom lip between her teeth again. “Well, I was going to find a hotel, but I think it’s too late for that, so…” Her words trail off. “Would it be okay to park here overnight? One of the upsides of being small is that I can fit just about anywhere, so I can sleep in my car. It wouldn’t be the first time, actually,” she adds that last part like she didn’t mean to, but her rambling got away from her.

Clearing her throat, she looks up at me. A slight pink color fills her cheeks, illuminated by the moonlight that shines down on her through the glass.

I’m about to tell her she’s crazy if she thinks that I’m going to let her stay outside all night, regardless of whether this is something she’s done once or a million times before. Everything in me is screaming to protect her, to take care of her, the same way she has been taking care of everyone all night, even me. I open my mouth to speak when a crack of thunder shakes the car, and the sky opens, unleashing the rain.

Before I know what’s happening, she’s unbuckling her seatbelt and jumping out of the car. I follow her lead until we’re both standing in the middle of the empty street, as the rain comes down.

“What are you doing?” I call out to her with a shaky laugh of disbelief, but it’s nothing but a whisper beneath the sound of the pitter-patter of rain.