These trips took forever because the convoys were slow, rolling through the rocky terrain. If one of the vehicles broke down, then every vehicle stopped until it was repaired. I had my eye on the terrain through the scope of my weapon as we moved along. From the corner of my eye, I caught movement, and silently, I signaled to those in the vehicle. I heard the driver call the others and watched as the entire line came to a halt.
I remained steadfast, watching with a trained eye, waiting for something, anything. There was a flash of light and then BANG! The first truck in the convoy blew and the sinking feeling that I had carried with me all day intensified. This was an ambush. I stayed put, waiting for orders from the commanding officers. Other than the first explosion, there was no other action. But I was prepared if anything or anyone dared to move in our direction.
That first explosion must have acted as a signal because, after a few minutes, there was another explosion. Everyone in the vehicle hurried out to take up defensive positions and create a perimeter.
“Son of a bitch,” I hissed. Today was not the day. This was not the mission. I was not going to die. “I cannot believe this is happening.”
“Fucking assholes,” Jackson muttered. We were close together, pressed against the side of our Humvee. Inch by inch, we moved until both of us lay flat on our bellies with our weapons ready. My eye was glued to my scope, and my finger poised right over my trigger, ready to strike.
My gear felt ten times heavier as I waited. My armor weighed me down until my breathing became labored. This was not happening; I was not panicking. My heart rate increased, and my vision became spotty. I pulled back from my scope and blinked rapidly, trying to clear my sight, but nothing was working.
“Fuck, Jackson,” I groaned. “I think I’m going to have a heart attack.”
“Hang tight, man. This will all be over before you know it,” he said in a surprisingly calm voice.
The sharp pop-pop-pop of bullets piercing the air put me back on alert. Sweat dripped down the side of my face as I continued to watch and wait.
“How you doing?” Jackson whispered when things were silent again.
“I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me,” I confessed. “I’ve never felt this kind of panic before.”
“We’ll get through this, and then you can go back to Gig Harbor to Cami, okay? Just think about that.”
Thinking about Cami calmed me, but it was a bad idea because it distracted me. Her smile and blue eyes appeared in front of me as if she was really there in the flesh. The vision was so real and lifelike that I started to reach out until Jackson grabbed me and pulled me back as our Humvee exploded.
Debris flew everywhere, and something smacked into me, knocking me back into Jackson. We scrambled to get to safety, but my legs were like lead. I couldn’t move. I shoved Jackson out of the way just as my head began to spin and then everything around me started to go black. Just before I lost consciousness, I saw several pairs of feet running toward us. There were voices speaking quickly and in hushed tones, but my ears were ringing from the explosion, and I couldn’t tell what they were saying. Hands grabbed at me, dragging me from the burning wreckage until I was lifted and put into the back of another vehicle. And then I gave in and let the blackness take over completely.
Chapter Thirty-One
Cami
The remains of my father were now divided between three gold urns. It was an unorthodox request, but my mother, Valerie, and I all wanted to keep him with us. I started to argue with my mother that she didn’t deserve any piece of him, but Valerie stopped me with a look that said, “This is not the battle you want to have.” Deep down, my mother still loved him, and her grief was more pronounced than ours. We had two years to prepare for this; she only had a few months.
The day of the memorial service was cold but sunny. People gathered in our house to pay their respects and offer their condolences. The crowd that assembled to honor my father was small, but I could name each person in attendance and knew that not only did they love him but he loved them. It was sad that my dad was an only child, but that just made his small circle of friends feel closer. He trusted them and loved them the most.
“Thank you for coming,” Valerie and I said to each guest who arrived. Some of them hugged us tightly while others just gave us sympathetic glances.
My dad’s favorite music was playing the background, and I put Palmer in charge of switching out the records when one ended. I didn’t want those sounds to end because they reminded me of him. When his memorial service became too overwhelming for me, I sat close to one of the speakers, closed my eyes, and tried to remember the first time I heard a particular song.
When “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes” started to play, I easily pictured my dad’s old boat that he would take out onto the bay. He worked on that thing every summer, trying to get it seaworthy. While he was tinkering, the radio would play, and he’d hum along to the songs. When “Suite: Judy Blue Eyes” came on, I was sitting on a picnic table watching him.
“Cami!” he’d cried out, jumping up and rushing over to me. He’d picked me up in his arms and swung me in a circle. He had a lovely voice, and while we danced joyously in the backyard, he serenaded me.
“The music makes it so easy to remember him, doesn’t it?” Tim Grayson sat down next to me and placed a comforting arm around my shoulder. “He was my best friend, and I miss him so damn much.”
“Me too.”
“But he’s still here, you know?” Tim leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. “He was always putzing around the shop, talking to the crew, and there was always music playing. That shop was his entire world, and he owned it. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to step foot in it again without picturing his big goofy grin and hearing his music.”
“Don’t ever turn off that radio,” I told him.
“No, never,” he said with a wink. “How are you holding up?”
“It’ll take some time for me to really get used to the idea that he’s not here anymore.” I looked down at my hand and twisted the ring Garrett gave me. On the tough days—days like today—I couldn’t bring myself to think of us as engaged. Not until he was home and not until the ache in my chest lessened. “But I know he’s not in pain anymore.”
Tim took my hand gently in his and held it. “Your dad told me about Garrett before he passed.”
Surprised, I looked up at Tim whose expression was filled with affection. “He did?”
“Yes. He was relieved that you found someone like Garrett.” Tim glanced over at Palmer, who was talking to one of my dad’s friends, before turning his attention back to me. “I thought it might be Palmer one day, but if you’re happy with Garrett, then I’m happy for you, and I’ll do everything I can to support you.”
“Thank you, Tim,” I said. “That means a lot to me.”
Dad had requested that no one make any speeches at his memorial service. It would have embarrassed him to have so many people talking about him like that, so I excused myself and made it a point to talk with as many people as I could. I wanted them to tell me what they remembered most about my dad or what they loved so that I could keep those memories in my heart. The room was filled with so much love and laughter and very few tears, which was exactly what my dad would have wanted.
As the sun started to set, Palmer built a bonfire on the beach, one of my dad’s favorite things. Valerie joined me next to the fire and slipped her arms around my waist. There were times over the past few days when I forgot that she was the oldest. Growing up, she was the closest to our dad; they had a similar temperament and were both content not to stray too far from home. She also worked with him every day, which made her grieve differently.
“Have I ever told you that I’m so happy you came back from Seattle,” Valerie murmured. “I could never have gotten through these past two years without you.”
“Staying in Seattle was never an option for me. I’d never leave you alone like that.” As I said it, my eyes
seemed to drift up to my mother who was standing on the opposite side of the fire talking to the Graysons. “How long do you think she’s going to stay now that he’s gone?”
Part of me wanted her to leave Orcas Island and come back to Gig Harbor permanently, but the cynical side of me knew that she’d stay long enough for his will to be read before leaving.
“I don’t know, Cami, but I’m glad she came back.” Forgiveness was still a long way off, but I agreed with Valerie; I was happy my mother came back too. My father had been able to find some kind of closure with her before he passed, and we were given the same opportunity.
As the night started to wind down, I wandered inside to clean up. It was the easiest, most mundane task for me to complete. Friends of my father slowly left, offering their condolences for the last time.
“You don’t have to do this,” Palmer said quietly, placing his hand gently over mine and taking the black garbage bag that I held from my hand. “I can find someone to come over and clean tomorrow.”
“I’ll help her.” We both looked up to see my mother standing in the living room holding an armful of paper plates.
Palmer shot me a concerned look, but I nodded, and he left to take care of the fire outside.
“Thank you,” I said to my mom.
“I actually wanted to talk to you.” This was not going to be good. I set the trash bag aside and sat down in a chair, waiting for her to deal whatever blow was coming. “I have to go back to Orcas Island.”
“Okay.”
“I’m planning on leaving in a few days, but I want to help you and your sister through some of the probate stuff.”
“You mean you’re only going to stick around to see if Dad left you anything.”
She scoffed. “Why do you have to be so angry? I have no expectation of being included in your father’s will.”
“All I’ve heard is that you’re leaving. You haven’t said anything about coming back.”
“I don’t know if I’m going to come back, Cami. You and Valerie are grown women with your own lives. And I have a life on Orcas Island.”
I stood abruptly and headed toward the kitchen, but my mother was quick, and in a few strides, she was standing right in front of me, blocking my path. “Just because I’m going back to Orcas Island doesn’t mean that I don’t want to be a part of your life.”
“And what if I don’t want you to be a part of my life?”
“Then that’s your decision.”
I spun on my heel, ready to escape to the guest house. Instead, I was faced with Valerie’s tearful expression. “How can you act like this?” she cried. “We just said goodbye to our father today.”
I closed my eyes and sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, Val.” I brushed past her and headed out to the guest house.
It was quiet and dark, which was what I wanted, but it was also lonely. I changed out of my black sweater dress and put on a pair of flannel pajama pants and Garrett’s T-shirt. Climbing into bed, I tugged my computer across my lap and flipped it open. Out of habit, I checked my email, but there was nothing new from Garrett. Tonight, though, I decided to check my spam and see if perhaps his emails were filtered and ended up there.
And there it was, the one thing that I had been waiting weeks for—an email. My fingers trembled as I clicked on the message and opened it. Garrett’s words filled my screen, but they blurred as tears marred my vision. His honesty had my heart racing, and I couldn’t help but trace his words with my fingers. When I finished reading, I hit reply and poured my heart out.
To: [email protected]
From [email protected]
Subject: RE: Fears
Garrett –
Today, we celebrated my father’s life. My home was filled with people who loved him and love us. The memorial was just how Dad wanted it: no big speeches, plenty of food and drink, and a huge bonfire at the end of the night. He was so down to earth and didn’t want to make a fuss over things. Today was the perfect day and the perfect way to honor him.
After everyone left, my mom told me that she’s leaving in a few days too. I got angry, of course, and lashed out at her. I accused her of sticking around long enough to find out if my father left her anything. It was rude, and she didn’t deserve it, plus Valerie heard me and got angry too. It just felt like the worst time to tell us, though—right after the memorial. I wish she would have waited.
So, tonight, I came back to the dark, empty guest house. Even though I have Valerie and Palmer, I feel so alone. And there hasn’t been a single email from you in so long… Thank God I checked that fucking spam folder! Your email gave me the strength I needed. Your words breathed life back into me. I feel like I can finally begin to move forward and start planning for your return and a future with you.
I miss you. Stay safe.
Yours, Cami.
I hit send, closed out my browser, and shut down the computer. For the first time in a long while, I fell asleep feeling like a weight had been lifted.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Cami
“I think I’m going to go to Napa,” I announced during dinner at the Graysons. Everyone was there—Palmer, his parents, and Valerie—and their stares were currently making me squirm in my seat. A few weeks had passed since my father’s memorial and the last email that I sent to Garrett; it was time for a change. “I mean, I am going to Napa.”
“You are?” Valerie looked surprised, which was understandable. I hadn’t left Gig Harbor for more than a few days over the past two years, and that was only for short trips to Seattle. It was time to start spreading my wings.
“Yes. I miss Garrett so much and visiting his family’s winery might make me feel a little better.”
“I can go with you,” Palmer offered. He was a frequent guest at our dinner table, but tonight, his parents had invited Valerie and me over, so there were four sets of eyes staring at me.
“Have you met Garrett’s family?” I asked
“Twice. But it has been a while.”
“Okay. It might be good not to go alone,” I said. Truthfully, I was terrified of meeting Garrett’s family without him, so having Palmer offer to go with me was almost a godsend.
“When do you want to go?”
“Soon. I need a change of scenery.” I didn’t want to say that living with Valerie in the house we shared with our father was almost like living in a tomb. While the probate issues had been settled easily enough, we hadn’t actually gotten around to cleaning out all of Dad’s belongings. So, his office was still lined with shelves of records and his closet still held rows of khaki pants and polo shirts. Everything was pretty much how he left it.
“I’ll look at flights tomorrow after I check my schedule. We’re slow right now, so I think I can take a few days.” Palmer looked at his father for confirmation, and Tim nodded his head.
“I don’t see why not, Palmer. Valerie, you can take a few days too if you want to go,” Tim offered.
“Thanks. I might take some time off, but I don’t really want to go to Napa with Cami.” Valerie had started to retreat after Dominic broke her heart, and once our dad passed, she was practically a hermit. I had started to worry about her, so when she agreed to take some time off, I reached out and squeezed her hand.
“Maybe you should go to the beach,” I suggested.
“Maybe,” she replied with a shrug of her shoulders.
When Valerie and I left that night, I knew something had to change. We were stuck, just living, and we needed to start moving forward. “I think we need to start clearing out Dad’s things,” I told her. Her eyes were glassy with unshed tears, and I placed my hand on her shoulder. “Not right now, but soon.”
“Okay,” she replied with a shaky voice. “Soon.”
A week later, Palmer and I sat on the airplane waiting for it to leave the airport. My knee bounced nervously, and my hands fidgeted with the hem of my shirt. Palmer placed a hand over mine and gave me a reassuring smile.
“Sorry,�
�� I said weakly. “I’m just nervous.”
“You don’t have to be nervous. They’re going to love you.” He gave me a wink, but somehow, that didn’t actually make me feel better. It made me feel worse. Did I even have the right to barge into their lives and introduce myself without Garrett? As far as I knew, the only person in his family who knew we were in a relationship was his brother Oliver.
Thankfully, the flight was short, so I didn’t have hours to sit and stew over my nerves. Palmer took charge and led me through the small airport in Santa Rosa. We didn’t have any luggage to check, so we headed right to the rental car kiosk.
“It looks like it’ll only take about forty-five minutes,” he said, studying his phone’s GPS.
I exhaled loudly and replied, “Let’s go.”
We drove from the airport up Highway 101 and into Healdsburg. The scenery was breathtaking as it changed from cityscape to landscape; lush green hills and rows upon rows of vineyards replaced the buildings and shopping plazas. As we drove toward Hammond Winery, colored banners lined the edges of other properties, signaling to tourists as they drove unfamiliar roads.
Palmer started to slow down, and I peered out the front window, waiting for my first glimpse of Hammond Winery. Green banners fluttering in the breeze dotted the perimeter of the Hammond property. Palmer turned onto a long tree-lined drive that eventually opened up into a wider area where several cars were parked.
The main house was stunning. It was large and white with a huge wraparound front porch. Beyond that was a smaller building that must have been the tasting room. Palmer stopped the car and turned off the engine.
“Are you ready?” he asked me.
“Sure. I guess,” I answered with a shrug of my shoulders. There weren’t many cars parked in the small lot across from what I assumed was the tasting room, which could easily be a blessing and a curse. I grasped the handle, opened the door, and took my first step toward Garrett’s past.
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