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He rested the side of his head against the thick post that secured the dock. His feet dangled over the edge, the water almost reaching the soles of his boots. He needed to fill in Mia about what he’d learned but couldn’t make out the sentences.
As if she understood he needed a minute to collect his thoughts, she slipped her hand in his and sat in the silence. Her sneakered-clad feet hanging beside his. “It sure is beautiful out here. I can’t wait for summer. So far, I’ve seen a lot of snow and a lot of rain. I’m ready for the sun.”
“Umm hmm.”
“My hometown isn’t far from here, but I never took the time to just sit outside and appreciate the beauty. I lived in town, worked in a factory, and spent my time focused on the future. Not really living in the moment. I need to do more of that.”
“I’ve spent my time living in the past. Afraid to let go. Terrified of moving on.” Pressure mounted in his chest. “I can’t even get rid of this stupid phone.” He hoisted the phone he still held in the air.
“It’s important to keep pieces of the people we love with us. To take them into our future. That way, we never really move on. Moving on means we’re over the loss and the pain and have no need for what we’re moving on from to stay with us. Laurie and Riley should always be with you. Always be a part of your life, in any way that you need them. They made you the man you are today.”
“They were amazing.” His voice cracked, the pressure in his chest almost unbearable.
“I wish I could have met them,” she said. “And anytime you want to introduce me to them, to share their stories or relive those wonderful moments, I’m ready to listen.”
He bobbed his head, unable to speak. The voices of his beloved might have been a soothing balm for the past three years, but Mia brought something else into his life. Something he didn’t even know he needed.
Mia brought hope. A feeling he’d given up on, and now that he had it again, he was terrified of losing it.
* * *
For the secondtime that day, Mia found herself bustling around Chet’s kitchen. But this time, she didn’t rummage through his pantry and refrigerator to put together a meal. Thanks to Wade, all she had to do was reheat the food he’d brought over earlier.
Chet hadn’t spoken much since they’d returned inside. His mind was clearly occupied and keeping herself busy by plating their meals kept her from asking all the questions clamoring in her brain. “You want to eat at the table?”
Chet sat in the living room. Long shadows fell across the floor. Twilight had arrived, and Chet hadn’t turned on any lights to fight against the darkening skies looming outside. He stood on a sigh and offered her a weak smile. “Sure. Thanks for this.”
Carrying the full plates to the table, she placed one where Chet usually sat and the other across from him. Her stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten much the last two days, and the scents of Wade’s famous fried chicken and collard greens wafted to her, making her mouth water. “I didn’t do much.”
“You did plenty.” He strolled across the kitchen and flipped open a cabinet. “Want some water? Beer?”
“I’d kill for a beer.”
He hooked an eyebrow. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“All right then. A beer for each of us.” He closed the cabinet then grabbed two brown bottles from the fridge. He popped off the tops and offered her one then plopped down at his place at the head of the table.
She took a sip and the cold, bitter ale slid down her throat. Wine was her usual go to, but the beer tasted good after a long, awful day. “Thanks.” Picking up the chicken leg, she took a bite, and the crispy skin filled her mouth. She closed her eyes, savoring the juicy meat and salty coating. “This is amazing.”
“Wade knows his stuff. Smart, too. I’m convinced his chicken wouldn’t taste as good if I could order it any day of the week.”
She laughed and slid a bite of creamy potatoes in her mouth. Her mind went back to what Wade had said before leaving earlier. “Do you think he meant it?”
“Meant what? I couldn’t hear him over all his damn flirting.” A flash of red invaded his cheeks. He took a long pull of his beer.
“Jealous?” She preened with the possibility, no matter how crazy it seemed.
He grumbled something behind the beer.
“Seriously. Do you think Wade would talk about his business with me? I’ll need all the help I can get if I want to open my own place one day.” She peeled the blue and red label from the bottle. Unexpected nerves bustling in her stomach.
Chet lifted a shoulder. “Don’t think he’d say it if he didn’t mean it.” He set his beer beside the blue place mat that matched the curtains hanging across the front window. “He’s owned the Chill N’ Grill for years. He’d have a lot to offer.”
“Owning my own restaurant seems like such a distant dream now. Maybe I shouldn’t waste his time.” She sighed, her appetite suddenly gone.
“Don’t give up on your dreams,” Chet said. “Call Wade. See what he has to say. You never know how it might help.”
