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I watch as he walks out of the door—with a slight swagger I overlooked. I also don't notice myself smiling until I look at the center table, which is part glass, to see my reflection smiling back at me.
Get yourself together; youstill have a lot to figure out.My smile drops immediately at the reminder that while I might have the best combination of rice and steamed vegetables in front of me, my life is one big mess, and everyone is looking up to me to find the puzzle pieces.
If I don’t, I’ll be a stranger, even in my mind.
CHAPTER 5
Logan
"Uncle Ethan is here!”
I hear Madison’s voice from the kitchen, where I’m heating the leftover homemade pizza, we had last night to see if we can eat it for breakfast this morning. The pizza wasn’t my best work, but Lily and Madison liked it, so we’re going with it as soon as she wakes up.
I’ve gone to her—my—room thrice this morning but stopped myself right before knocking on the door. As much as I want to include her in everything, I have to remember that she’s been through a lot, and anything can become foreign and triggering.
So, I take the plate from the microwave, cover it, and wash my hands before heading to the living room. I get there when the door opens, and Ethan walks in.
“Logan!” he says, dropping his duffel bag and grabbing me in a bear hug.
Ethan is inches shorter than me, but he's a big hugger, so I just let him do what he wants. He pats my back for the longest time before letting go.
“How have you been?”
“Good, good,” I nod. “Can we talk on the porch? She’s sleeping, and I don’t want to—”
“Yeah,” he cuts in, nodding, “I understand.”
“Can I come along?” Madison asks.
“Well,” Ethan turns to her, “your dad and I are going to talk about some pretty boring stuff. I’m sure you don’t want to hear all about work when you can look into my bag and see what I got for you.”
“Really?”
I chuckle as my daughter’s eyes widen slightly before she attacks his duffel bag, tugging on the hooks and zippers. Watching them interact only cements my opinion that there’s no one I trust more in the world to take care of Madison than Ethan and Grace, his wife. I just need him to tone down on all the cop talk.
“Let’s go.” Ethan slaps me on the back.
“Why don’t you take the pizza in the kitchen to Lily?” I ask my daughter.
With a stern look that tells me she’s about to make it her mission to see that the food is successfully delivered, she marches to the kitchen.
Ethan laughs as we make our way outside. “Madison. She never fails to surprise me. You’ll think you know everything about her, and then she throws you a curveball. It reminds me of her mom.”
“Yeah,” I say as nostalgia wells up in my throat. “She’s more like Sophia every day.”
Patting my back, Ethan goes to sit on the porch chair. I know that simple gesture—the same that he’s offered for years—meansI can always show how much Sophia’s passing still affects me without fear of judgment.
It’s why, when things got too hard for me after Sophia’s death, I had Madison stay with Ethan and Grace for months. He never complained that I rarely visited and would rather come over to see me instead, picking up empty beer cans and cleaning the house.
When I finally got the courage to resume my life, Ethan was there with the support I needed. Now, he visits the cabin now and then, stopping by if he has a case in Colorado.
“So,” he says. “How have things been? Madison told me that you saved someone. Lily… the woman you asked her to take the pizza to.”
I nod. “Yeah. I found her in the pouring rain. It was a miracle that I didn’t run her over because it was dark.”
“I’m glad,” he replies. “I have a case here—a kidnapping case. Our intel says it’s the one I was chasing years ago. The bastards are back in town.”
Could it?
