Chapter Fifteen

Julia cursed out loud as she landed on her butt, in a pile of snow. Maybe all that pie had gone to the right places, or she’d be even more hurt. She never should have taken Lola on the walk, but after her run-in with Chase and Maggie, she’d needed to burn off some frustration.

She squinted, looking down the street for that damn dog. Lola was going to get a real talking to. Maybe she’d buy the Baileys’ dog a gift certificate to obedience school. She brushed the snow off her jeans and slowly stood, a strange familiarity creeping through her body.

She glanced down at the sidewalk. Then up at the black coach light. At the oak tree, at the Japanese maple at the fire hydrant…at her old home. Their old home. The damn dog had led her right onto the street she had vowed never to go down again. The ghosts of her past yanked her out of her safe hiding place and shoved her in front of the reality she had to accept, ruthlessly excavating the memories she’d buried deep inside.

The curtain on her old life rose, and all her memories danced like a meticulously choreographed ballet in front of her: The day they moved in, the day they brought Matthew home from the hospital, the red stroller on the porch, the lawn sign and balloons at his first birthday party, the tricycle on the walkway, the tulips in the spring, the reindeer lawn ornaments at Christmas, the sled and then finally, the For Sale sign. When had things gone wrong for Michael? When had she stopped being enough for him?

She shut her eyes for a moment, letting the image in front of her recede, letting the present in, letting Chase’s face, his smile, his voice filter through. The memory of Maggie’s sweet laugh, the feel of her hand. She opened her eyes again and she knew where she needed to go.

Julia focused on the cloud of cold air as she exhaled, guiding Lola to the place she’d been avoiding for five years. Snow slowly fell in swirling patterns as they walked the quiet residential streets and then the more rural road as they finally came to the outskirts of Shadow Creek.

She stopped walking, her boots crunching against the gravel. Her hand tightened around Lola’s leash as she eyed the entrance to the cemetery. She wasn’t going to break down.

She knew she needed to come here today. Maybe Lola leading her to her old house was a sign. She needed to confront her guilt, she needed to say good-bye.

“All right, Lola. Ready?”

Lola eyed her for a moment and then gave a bark.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said and the two of them slowly walked down the footpath. The snow had been somewhat cleared but she was glad she’d worn her boots as there were patches of ice and the odd snow drift. She focused her eyes on the towering pines, branches heavy with snow, on the clear blue sky and bright sun. She knew which direction they had to go in and efficiently led Lola down one of the side paths and in a few minutes she found herself standing in a place that felt as though it only existed in her worst dreams. Icy wind blew snow in swirls around them, but it didn’t bother her. It was almost as though it didn’t matter; it was nothing compared to where she’d been, where she was now.

Lola tugged on the leash and she gave in, walking forward, her boots sinking into the snow. She brushed the snow off the top of Matthew’s tombstone and the front of it, revealing the words that Chase had helped her choose, when she hadn’t even had the brain power to pick. Her boy’s life, summed up in one sentence: Matthew Bailey, beloved son, grandson, angel. Julia let herself cry, knowing no one would hear her. She sank to the ground, not caring that her jeans were wet with snow. She was at once one with him; the rest of the world, Lola, everything receding into the background. It was just her and Matthew.

“Matthew, Mama’s sorry. I’m so sorry I haven’t been back here, but you’ve been with me every day. In my heart. And I miss you. God how I miss you so much, I ache for you, my sweet baby,” she said, her voice coming in a rush of sobs.

“I know Daddy is taking good care of you. I’m okay too.” Lola’s head nudged her, and then gave her a lick on the side of the face. She peeled off her gloves and traced the engraved letters of his name, barely seeing them through her tears. “I should have brought something for you. I didn’t think. I just needed to come here again.” She lost track of time as she sat there and talked and cried. This should have been easier; five years was a long time. It wasn’t easy. It was one of the hardest things she’d ever done. Sitting here at her son’s grave made it all so final, so real. He was gone from this life, her life. God, did she hurt, everything inside of her hurt and brought her right back to that day when she wept at the most incredible, horrifying loss. It was only when Lola started barking at her that she realized the sun was gone, her hands were red and white with cold, and she couldn’t feel her feet anymore.

She stood, and turned to Michael’s grave. She didn’t know what to say to him because she didn’t know the man that had died, so she said the only thing she could. “Good-bye, Michael. Thank you for Matthew. I knew…I knew you did everything to save him. Take care of our baby.”

She backed up slowly, careful not to fall and then finally turned, seeking out the path. She waited for the pain to lift, the heaviness, the ache. It did, slowly, but it was replaced by fear as she thought of the people in her life now. She loved Chase and Maggie. She wanted to be Maggie’s mom, Chase’s wife. She loved Maggie with a maternal instinct and love that she wasn’t prepared for. And she loved Chase…in a way she’d never experienced. She wanted them so badly. She wanted a family again—but she didn’t know that she could risk it all.

She looked at Michael’s tombstone again, giving him a final wave good-bye as Lola tugged on the leash. She couldn’t face this kind of pain. She couldn’t risk it all again. Wind whipped snow in her face as she stepped through the deep piles. She never should have let herself get close to Chase and Maggie. She wasn’t being fair to any of them. She couldn’t handle a life of worrying whether or not Chase was safe. The night he was shot had been brutal, sucking her back into the night of the accident. The call that Michael and Matthew had been in a car accident. She couldn’t do it again.

She walked away from her baby again, this time strong enough to walk on her own, this time wise enough to not let herself be vulnerable again.