Adam drops from his chair and onto one knee as Sara gasps into her hand. Tears well up in my eyes, and the room hums with anticipation. I put a hand on each of the children, physically holding them back from crashing the proposal.

“Let me love you forever, Sara. Say you’ll be my wife.”

He opens his hand to reveal the tiny box, but never has the chance to open it. Sara throws her hands around his neck and lunges forward, tackling him to the ground.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes…” she repeats as she peppers his face with tiny kisses and laughter.

Squeals erupt from Lily and Gage, and it’s getting harder to hold them back. “Careful lovelies,” I whisper as I open the floodgates.

They bound into the dining room, and in a flash of fur and ribbons, jump right on top of the pile.

“I want to wear a white dress, too, Ra Ra,” Lily exclaims in a fit of laughter as Adam tickles her belly.

Lily’s tiara rolls onto the carpet as Sara wraps her arms around the pile of haphazard limbs. “Of course, my sweet.”

I head into the kitchen and wrap the few leftovers in aluminum foil before sneaking out the kitchen door. This is a time for family, and I would never dream of intruding.

I traipse across the dark lawn, careful not to trip on tree knots and children’s toys. I smile to myself as I go over the events of the night in my head. These last few months have been rather solitary for me, so tonight was quite the treat.

Tonight also served as a precursor to this weekend’s activities—a chance to get my feet wet before the big shindig. After spending nearly all of my time with my head down and my thoughts buried in my work, I have to face the music that no longer plays for me. I, along with Cain and Kimberly, will be attending Alex and West’s wedding.

I avoid get-togethers, leave early with concocted excuses, and all together ignore phone calls to avoid watching it happen. I always knew Cain would move on with his life and leave me behind. That doesn’t mean I want a front row seat to the show.

I’m accustomed to living my life looking backward. Memories are what fuel me because my current life threatens to pull me under every day. So I remember Lucas before the illness. I think of Grams and her whimsical nuggets about life and love. I dream of Cain before he gave up on me—before he loved someone else.

Memories keep me breathing and sane, but sometimes the longing it creates is too much. Tonight, I’m overflowing. Tonight, the silence settling in my soul crushes me.

That’s why I dial a familiar phone number and pray for the sound of his voice, even if it’s all I can have.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

The phone connects, and my ear is filled with infectious laughter, but it’s not Cain’s voice I hear.

“Cain’s phone, how can I help you—stop it, Cain, that tickles!”

“Give me the phone, babe, and I’ll stop,” Cain says in the background with a chuckle. The warmth in his voice sends ice through my veins.

A squeal pierces my ear, and I pull the phone away, hitting the END button in a panic. God, I feel like such an idiot. What in the hell was I thinking?

The ringing of my phone startles me, and dread sinks in my bones.

With clenched teeth and a nauseous stomach, I answer the call. No reason to prolong the inevitable embarrassment.

“H-hello?”

“Hey, did you just call my phone? Is something wrong at the house?”

I shut my eyes and hold back the words I want to tell him. “Um, yeah, that was me. I just called to see how you were doing.”

I miss you every single day.

“To see how I was doing…” His voice trails off, and his tone gives nothing away.

“Yep, that’s it,” I say, trying my hardest to sound lighthearted and relaxed.

Sometimes, if I close my eyes, I can still feel your lips on mine.

He sighs into the phone, and I hear the television in the background trailing off, as if he’s leaving the room.

“Celia…” He sighs again. “You can’t just call me out of the blue anymore. It’s just … it’s not okay.”

I cover my mouth and nose to muffle the sound of my sobs. I wish for the weight of the memories, if this is the alternative. My heart splinters, slices into unsalvageable pieces.

“I know … I’m sorry,” I whisper, afraid he will hear my sorrow if I raise my voice any louder.

You were my heart, my soul, my laugh. I tried to be your sweet … your sparkle.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says in a gentle voice, telling me I’m doing a terrible job of hiding my hurt. “Look … take care, all right?”

“Yeah, you too.”

Please save me from this empty life.

“Good night.”

He hangs up before I have a chance to reply.

Sarge whistles a tune while we rock in silence, and the beautiful sound softens my mood and feeds my soul. The faint creaking of the rocking chairs, along with his whistling, fills the evening air. His eyes are closed, and he looks as serene as I feel.

“I suggest you start sipping that mint julep, little lady. We take teatime serious in these parts,” he mutters with a cracked eye.

He goes back to rocking and sings an old Frank Sinatra tune. The only thing more captivating than Sarge’s whistling is his singing. His deep baritone flows like a perfectly aged merlot, deep and rich.

“You’d give old blue eyes a run for his money, Sarge. Did you ever think of singing professionally?” I ask as I sip my syrupy drink.

His booming laughter surprises me, and I turn to face him, curling my legs up into the chair.

“Girly, this voice was made for wooing the ladies and church on Sunday. Nothing else.”

I giggle. “Now, why do I think you wooed more ladies than sang hymns?”

He winks at me and nods his head. “Because you know a charmer when you see one. Had to beat ‘em off with a stick, I did. But I only had eyes for my sweet Rose. After fifty years, she still moves me. Some things are just written in the stars.”

“You’re lucky to have found a love like that … to live it all these years.”

“Girly, luck has nothing to do with it. We choose each other, every day. Finding love is the easy part. Living it, working your tail off to keep it? There’s no luck in that. It’s hard work.”

“But worth it, right?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Every ounce of blood, sweat, and tears.” He chuckles and closes his eyes. “Whenever times were tough, when Rose and I didn’t see eye to eye, I always went back to the beginning. There’s an oak tree out on Highway 88. It’s where we first kissed, where I proposed, where we—well, you get the picture…”

I giggle at his comment and the boyish grin playing on his lips.

“Anytime I have doubts, I sit under that tree and remember the good times. And then I always come to the realization that even the bad times are good times, as long as my Rose is by my side.”

I wrap my arms around my legs and rest my head on top of my knees. “I wish I had a place like that—a place to center me and clear the fog.”

I have no family home to speak of, and I don’t feel Grams at the cemetery. My St. Jude necklace dangles on my neck, and I know it’s the only thing that makes her feel close. Sometimes I hold the pendant tightly in my fist, and whisper all my worries and wants, just like I used to with Grams. But an actual place? I can’t think of one.

“You just haven’t found it yet, but it’s out there.”

“Yeah,” I whisper wistfully, just as the screen door creaks.

“Celia, darling, you dress is hemmed and ready to go. I hung it on the back of the door,” Granny says as she crosses her arms and leans on the doorframe. “Is the old geezer minding his manners, or do I need to withhold his apple pie?”

“Stop your crazy talk, woman. There’s no old geezer out here.” Sarge nudges me and smiles.