The Road to Rose Bend

by Naima Simone

  “Don’t you ever accuse me of that.” She jabbed a mitt-covered hand at him. “Of course I see color. To say I didn’t would mean I don’t see your beauty, don’t acknowledge and respect your proud heritage. It would mean I don’t see your strength, the struggles you have to face in life and your resilience to overcome them. It would mean that I, as a white woman, don’t grasp that I have certain privileges granted to me just because of the color of my skin, and that you will encounter hate and bigotry just because of the color of yours. It would mean that I don’t respect that, that I don’t need to do all in my power to support you while not making it about me. It would mean I don’t see you. So no, Coltrane, I see color. And I see the power you possess and the weight you bear because of it.”

  He stared at her, blown away, humbled by this woman who’d raised him as her own. Who had never made him feel any different from the children she’d birthed, but still celebrated his differences.

  “I honestly didn’t believe it would be possible to love you more than I do, but here we are,” he said.

  Moe blinked. Then again, and once more. Chuckling, Cole rounded the island, setting down his half-eaten cookie, and gathered his mother in his arms.

  “Good God, please don’t cry,” he teased. “If Dad comes in here and sees that, he’ll haul me out of here and demand to know what I did to ‘his woman.’”

  “Oh hush,” she said, squeezing him tight before pushing out of his embrace and shooing him away. “Go sit down and stop saying foolish crap then.”

  Laughing, Cole smacked a kiss on the top of her head and grabbed his abandoned cookie before doing as she ordered.

  “Now, before everyone returns home, why don’t you tell me the real reason you’re here. In other words, tell me what’s going on with you and Sydney.” She crossed her arms over her chest and leveled her patented don’t-give-me-no-bullshit stare on him. He didn’t bother asking how she knew, because this was Rose Bend. Something like Sydney moving in with her parents wouldn’t have remained under wraps for long. “Because that is why you’re here.”

  He parted his lips to refute it, but the denial didn’t materialize. Bending his head, he stared at the surface of the oak table where they’d shared many meals with guests and family. She was right. He’d come here seeking comfort, the familiarity of her presence, the no-nonsense of her advice.

  “Sydney found out about the house.”

  He didn’t look up from the tabletop, but he caught the soft sound of her sandaled feet crossing the floor and the scrape of the chair across from him as she dragged it from under the table. Felt the warm clasp of her hand over his.

  “Found out?” she repeated. “Or did you tell her?”

  “Jenna Landon told her,” he admitted, still seeing Sydney’s hurt over that every time he closed his eyes. Not that closing his eyes had been an issue these past four days. Sleep hadn’t even been an option.

  “For the love of... The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree with that one. Hell, I wish we could just saw that whole damn tree down,” she grumbled. Her fingers tightened around his, and he lifted his head, meeting the compassion in her soft gaze. “I’m sorry, Cole. She had no right to do that. But, why hadn’t you shared that information with Sydney?”

  Gently pulling his hand free of his mother’s hold, he leaned back in his chair and scrubbed his hands over his head. Then he tipped the chair back, staring at the ceiling.

  “I’ve tried to convince myself that it had nothing to do with her. But as she pointed out, it has everything to do with her—with us. The truth is I didn’t want her intruding on that part of me, of my life. My time with Tonia...it was mine. Sydney accused me of hoarding my memories, and she wasn’t wrong. I married Sydney thinking I could keep her in this safe box where she wouldn’t bleed over into any other part of my life. But obviously, that didn’t happen,” he said with a harsh bark of laughter. He splayed his hands wide on the table, studied them. “The house... Moe, it’s all I have left of them. I can’t remember her voice as clearly. Or her laugh. I can’t recall her scent anymore. If I lose the house, it will be like saying they never existed. That they weren’t...important to me.”

  “Oh, baby, how long you grieve doesn’t determine the depth of your love for a person. Cole.” Moe sighed, and the chair creaked as she shifted her slight weight. “I’ve never lost a child, but I have had to grieve a grandchild and watch my own son drown in his grief. I didn’t understand what being powerless truly was until I could only stand back and let you suffer without being able to fix it for you. I was so worried that we would never have you back. That you wouldn’t make it. But you did. Because that’s who you are. Strong. Stubborn, yes, but unbreakable. Also so emotionally bottled up, I both anticipated and feared what would happen when or if you ever popped.”

  She paused, and the silence in the kitchen hummed between them, the bright sounds of a chirping bird filtering through the open windows along with the whine of Wolf’s saw from his workshop in the back of the inn.

  “When I first saw you with Sydney, I started to cautiously hope again. With her, you weren’t...numb. I saw the flashes of the old you, when I was doubting if I ever would see them again. When you told us about marrying her, that hope grew. Even knowing the reasons why and your insistence that it wasn’t a love match, that you were just helping a friend, I still hoped. And now, seeing the pain you’re trying to hide, I’m more certain than ever you’re going to be just fine.”

  Cole jerked his head down, narrowing his gaze on his mother, who smiled at him with the telltale brightness of tears glistening in her eyes.

  “What?” How could she say that? He felt a lot of shit at the moment, but fine wasn’t one of them.

  She nodded. “For two years, you’ve mourned Tonia and Mateo. But finally, you’re in pain over someone else. Over losing Sydney. Cole, if you didn’t love her, you wouldn’t care that she walked away. You would be relieved and eager to return to that lonely existence you’ve been living. Not sitting here in my kitchen because you don’t want to go back to an empty home.”

  Did she possess some sort of ESP? He had been so fucking lonely since Sydney left him. Before she came back into his life, he’d been perfectly fine with being alone in that cottage. Alone with his memories. But now, he was this ghost rattling around his home. He couldn’t even bring himself to sleep in his bed anymore, because Sydney’s citrus and chocolate scent lingered on the pillows, the sheets. He’d tried that first night, and the ache of missing her, of not having her there was too much. The couch had become his temporary bed where he stared at the television all night until morning came and he could lose himself in work again.

  But love her?

  “I don’t love Sydney,” he protested, voice sharp—sharper than he’d intended. But then, desperation tended to do that.

  Moe arched an eyebrow high, the corner of her mouth quirking.

  “I can’t love her, Moe.” What had barreled up his throat as a shout emerged as a hoarse, serrated whisper. He squeezed his eyes shut, shook his head. “I can’t love them.”

  “Cole.” A small hand with calluses on the fingertips once more wrapped around his. And he held on tight, as if his mother’s hand was his lifeline that prevented him from crashing into a churning sea hungry to drag him under and never let him surface. “Cole, look at me.” She didn’t speak again until he complied. “What are you scared of, son?”

  “If I—” He broke off, swallowed hard to moisten his suddenly dry throat. “If I allow myself to love her—if I love her too much, too hard—if I let myself feel any amount of affection for the baby she’s carrying, I’ll lose them both.” He laughed again, and the jagged edges of it scraped him raw. “Believe me, I know how irrational it sounds. But I can’t shake it. I’m scared they’ll both be taken away from me like Tonia and Mateo. So, I told myself if I didn’t love them, if I didn’t make them my whole world, then maybe,
just maybe, God would let me keep them.”

  The truth exploded out of him in a furious torrent of words. And once he started, he couldn’t stop.

  “I feel so guilty. For not being able to save Tonia. For living. For giving Sydney my name when it should’ve only been Tonia’s. For wanting to move on with her. I don’t deserve that, Moe. Not when Tonia’s not here. I don’t fucking deserve that,” he roared, his fist slamming down onto the table. “I don’t—”

  His voice broke on the sob that took him by surprise. And he couldn’t speak past the next one. Or the one after that. Through the hoarse, agony-filled wails crashing against his skull, he dimly realized they weren’t all in his head. They burst out of him, leaving him shattered.

  “Shh, it’s okay.” Familiar arms enclosed him, surrounding him in love, comfort and strength. “Let it all out, baby. Let it all go,” she soothed. “I’ve got you.”

  She did. She rocked him as she’d done when he was a boy, and in her embrace, he finally emptied himself of the grief and pain that had been festering inside him for two long years. Where it would leave him once it was done, he didn’t know.

  But for once, he wasn’t terrified to find out.

  * * *

  THE MORNING AFTER he broke down in his mother’s kitchen, Cole stood on the curb outside his old home with Tonia. Most of the neighborhood still slept as the sun crested the horizon, the sky still clutching to the remnants of violet and gray. But he welcomed the quiet. It was appropriate that he was doing this at the dawn of a new day.

  He was starting over.

  He was letting go.

  He was choosing to love.

  Inhaling a deep breath, he released it on a shaky gust. Moe had insisted he stay with family last night, so he’d slept in his and Wolf’s old bedroom on the family’s floor. Sleep had eluded him again, but this time, instead of running his last conversation with Sydney over and over like a depressing reel, he rewound and hit play on all the moments they’d shared since her return to Rose Bend.

  Seeing her for the first time on the hill behind the church.

  Helping her move into the cottage.

  Feeling the baby move for the first time.

  Holding her hand as they gazed at the ultrasound monitor and discovered she was having a little girl.

  Seeing her stand up at the council meeting and offer to write the grant so he could see his dream of the community center come to fruition.

  Vowing to love, honor and cherish her in The Glen.

  Making love to her for the first time. The last time.

  Somewhere in all of those moments, he’d fallen so deeply in love with her that it’d caused him to distance himself, to react out of fear and push her away. He could admit that now. And without the panic that had gripped him when Sydney had uttered those words to him or the denial when Moe had pointed it out.

  During those long hours, he forgave himself—well, he’d started the process. Because it would be a process. Every day, he would have to wake up and decide to forgive himself and accept that the God he’d believed had abandoned him had offered him a wonderful, miraculous gift—a second chance with a beautiful, kind, selfless woman and a child that he could raise, nurture and love as his own.

  And deep in his heart, he knew Tonia would not just approve but be happy for him.

  Had his guilt disappeared? No, but that would take time, too. Still... It didn’t crush him or taint his every joy.

  He was stepping into the future with Sydney. If she would have him. But begging for her forgiveness and for her to return to him would have to wait.

  Because right now, he had a house to clean out.

  Sighing, he turned around and strode toward the rear of his truck where he’d stowed a stack of flattened boxes and a bag full of tape and markers. Lowering the tailgate, he reached for them but paused as headlights—several pairs of them—cut through the quickly vanishing shadows.

  Stepping away from the truck, he stared, stunned, as four vehicles pulled up behind him. After several seconds, the engines cut, and people streamed out of them.

  Moe. Dad. Wolf. Leo, the rest of his siblings.

  Valeria and Ramon.

  He blinked, battling back the sting of tears. Jesus Christ, hadn’t he done enough of that in the last twenty-four hours?

  Awe and love filled his chest to capacity and beyond it. They all approached and gathered around him, surrounding him in a semicircle of love, support and encouragement.

  “How—” He cleared his throat of the emotion clogging it. “How did you know?”

  “You’re my son,” came Moe’s reply.

  And that said it all.

  Smiling, he nodded. “Well, let’s get started then.”

  Started on packing up the house.

  Started on his new beginning.

  Started on a future with the woman and child he loved.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “ALL DONE, SYDNEY,” Dr. Prioleau said, wiping the last of the gel away from Sydney’s stomach. “You can sit up now.”

  The ever-stylish doctor—sporting a burnt-orange one-piece jumpsuit today with leopard-print peep-toe pumps and dark brown lipstick—crossed the room to pick up her tablet and toss the tissue.

  “Y’know, Dr. Prioleau, if I wasn’t comfortable in my stretch-marked skin, then coming in here every month to see you giving Mahogany Diana Ross a run for her money would really screw with my equilibrium,” she teased.

  The other woman flashed her a wide grin. “Well that’s sweet of you,” she said. “No wonder you’re my favorite patient. But let’s keep that here, okay?”

  Sydney snickered, sitting up and lowering her tank top, then retying the shoulder straps of her dress. “Sure, Doc. It’ll be our little secret.”

  The doctor shook her head, chuckling. “Any questions for me, Sydney? Concerns?”

  “No, except for the little bit of heartburn I told you about, I’m good.” Sydney patted her stomach. “Jellybean’s super active, and sometimes that’s a little ‘girl, please!’ at one o’clock in the morning, but I’m guessing it’s normal.”

  “Jellybean, huh?” The doctor’s mouth quirked. “I should mention now’s the time to start thinking of names, too.”

  “I’ve already been working on that.” Sydney grinned.

  “Good. If you have any other questions, please don’t hesitate to call me, okay?”

  “I will,” Sydney promised, carefully sliding off the exam table. “Thank you and see you in two weeks.” Since she was moving into her third trimester, her visits would increase to biweekly instead of monthly. Her stomach dipped in excitement and nerves. The steadily increasing stomach size, cravings and movements made her pregnancy a fact. But moving into the third trimester? Oh, it just got real.

  “Looking forward to it.” The doctor opened the door. “Let me walk you out.”

  They exited the exam room, and as they passed the closed door to her father’s office, she couldn’t help but smile. He’d popped into her appointment earlier to hear the baby’s heartbeat with her. Her mother had offered to accompany her this morning, but Sydney hadn’t wanted her mother to miss work at the shop. She hadn’t opened the boutique at all the day after Sydney had shown up on their doorstep. She and her parents had spent the day together—visiting Carlin’s grave, eating lunch, playing Monopoly (her mother was a real estate shark) and then bingeing Netflix over dinner. It’d been...amazing. And if anyone had told her when she’d crossed Rose Bend’s town limits weeks ago that she would be close with her parents again, she would’ve ordered them to stop smoking that stuff around her baby.

  These past few days had been awesome. And yet, the empty ache in her chest hadn’t dissipated. She missed Cole; she couldn’t deny it. Not when she still rolled over in the morning, half-asleep, and reached for him only to find a cold, vacant side of the be
d. Or when she worked on her book, and a plot twist popped in her head, but she couldn’t call him to share it. Or when she lay in bed at night, longing to be held against his strong body, wanting to be filled by him.

  So, God, yes. She missed him. But nothing had changed between them. She still needed more from him, needed more for herself and her baby. For once, she was demanding all or nothing. Because they both deserved nothing less.

  Even if she threatened to buckle under the loneliness and hurt.

  “Have a great rest of your day, Sydney,” Dr. Prioleau said, opening the door that led into the lobby. A grin spread over the doctor’s face, and she glanced at Sydney. “Something tells me it will be,” she murmured.

  Hmm. Enigmatic much?

  Shrugging a shoulder, Sydney waved at the other woman and moved past her into the lobby. “Have a great...day...”

  Shock robbed her of the rest of the words and her breath.

  Cole.

  His name ricocheted off her skull, booming louder and louder until she curled her fingers into fists at her thighs so she wouldn’t clap her palms over her ears.

  Yearning so powerful, so damn visceral, wrenched within her. It almost propelled her forward. Toward him. But she stretched out an arm, steadying herself against the edge of the desk.

  No. The word broke past the emotion fogging her mind, squeezing her chest. Obligation. Responsibility. They were so ingrained in him they should be added to his birth certificate. Duty as her husband brought him here, not love. And it wasn’t enough. She valued his friendship, but she needed someone who would take her heart and give her his.

  Cole was not that man.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, proud when the question came out even if it was quiet.

  He stepped toward her, and only then did she notice what her hyperfocus on him hadn’t allowed her to notice before. She gasped, feeling her eyes widen.

  Mom. Moe. Leo. The whole Dennison clan. And Tonia’s parents, Valeria and Ramon. Crowded into the clinic lobby.