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“I’m good,” I manage to say. “You okay?”

He grins. “I’m awesome.”

I should have never taught him that word.

The bell rings overhead.

“Oh, thank God you’re here, Rosie,” Abe drawls. “Gives me someone to talk to so these two can continue to gaze into each other’s eyes.”

Cal and I both flush at the same time, but it doesn’t stop him from leaning down and kissing me sweetly on the lips. I sigh to myself and wonder if it matters anymore, all the things I tend to think are important. Maybe all that matters is right here in front of me. Maybe that’s the thing I should be focused on. All the rest will still be here weeks from now, but Cal might not.

He pulls away and watches me for a moment. Then, much to my dismay, he says with a knowing smile: “You’re looking at me differently.”

Shit.

“I….” Have no idea what to say.

He shakes his head and kisses me again before stepping away.

Rosie is grinning at him like he’s the greatest thing she’s ever seen (to be fair, Rosie’s lived in Roseland all her life, so he just might be). “I am so very glad you decided to come to town,” she tells him without so much as a look at me. I don’t know if she’s saying this on my behalf or for her own nefarious purpose. I almost tell her to back off my angelic boyfriend but I think the reference would be lost on her, so I resign myself to the fact that I’ll be stuck in Cal’s shadow for the rest of the time I know him. This splits my train of thought two ways, the first of which is thinking there’s no place I’d rather be than in his shadow; the second is wondering just how long I will know him.

You can’t take him from me. You just can’t. He’s here for me, not for you. If you really are his Father, then you should love him enough to let him go.

Much like I love my father too much to let him go.

Dammit.

“Heard about that storm?” Rosie asks. “Or should I say storms?”

I nod. “Radio.”

“Sounds like a doozy! Haven’t had one of them probably since….” Her voice trails off as she realizes her faux pas.

But it’s not like I can blame her. It’s been almost five years. People are still sad, yes, and everyone knows the hole that Big Eddie left in our lives, but I seem to be the only one still fixated on it, the only one still drowning. I almost allow myself to feel anger about their perceived callousness, how quickly they were able to toss him aside like he was nothing, but that’s not the case. I’m the one with the problem. I’m the one people are tiptoeing around like I’m made of so much glass that even a whisper could see me break.

“It’s okay,” I tell her kindly, even though my voice sounds rougher than I want it to. “You can say it. Hasn’t been a doozy of a storm since the day Big Eddie died.” And it had been too. What started out as a light sprinkle had eventually turned into a torrential downpour right before Big Eddie had been pulled from the truck. They’d had to move fast given how quickly the river could change from docile to manic. Looking back, I thought the sky itself was weeping openly at the loss of such a man from this earth. I thought Heaven cried for having to take him away from me, and God was begging for my forgiveness. I decided quite readily that if it was true and Big Eddie was gone, I didn’t give a damn if God felt sorry. I didn’t care if he was contrite and if he made the world cry for me and my father.

“It’s fine,” I say again to Rosie. “I’m not going to break. I’m okay. I think. No, I know.” Maybe I’m getting there.

Rosie glances at Cal before smiling sadly at me. “He was a good man, Benji. You know that; I don’t need to tell you again. I don’t think you could find a single person in this town to say anything against him.” Pretty words, but I have a feeling there’s a few who’d disagree with you. “But I’m sure glad to hear you say that, and I’m thrilled to see you smile the way you have been lately. And I think we know who we have to thank for that.”

Cal flushes again, but even I can se

e the pleased smile on his face that he tries to hide with a bow of his head. I refrain from rolling my eyes, but not by much. It is easier than sinking into the twinge in my chest, especially since now I know that it could have a name, should I choose to give it one. It’s easy, almost too easy.

“Shouldn’t you be down getting your food truck set up?” Abe asks Rosie.

“Getting there,” Rosie says. “I’ve got some heavy lifting that needs doing and was hoping a certain big man would come help me.”

I say nothing, waiting for Cal to make the decision on his own. It takes a moment, and many emotions appear to cross his face. While it might be indecipherable to Abe and Rosie, I’ve been around him enough to catch it all—his hesitation, his annoyance (however brief), his fear (even more fleeting). He knows what today is, what the conversation I overheard at the sheriff’s house means for today. In those few short seconds, he goes to war with himself, and I don’t know which part of him will come out the victor.

Abe decides for him. “Go on, Cal,” he says, not knowing Cal’s internal conflict. Or maybe he does. If anyone else could know, it’d be him. “I’ll stay behind here with Benji and close up the store, and we’ll head down to the festival in another hour or so.”

Cal looks to me. “It’ll be good,” I say. “Rosie could use the help and I’ll be there before you know it.”

He crowds against me again, placing his hands on my neck, stroking the skin under my ears with his thumbs. His touch is familiar, warm and urgent. “You’ll be down right after noon?” he asks me. Or tells me. I don’t know.

I nod. “Sure will, and we’ll have some fun. And then maybe I can get Christie or Mary to come open the store in the morning tomorrow so you and I can sleep in.”

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