Aisha and Mo walked hand-in-hand through River’s Sigh’s lush green grounds toward the picnic shelter with the barbeque pits and the outdoor stage. Mo was giddy with excitement and chattered away a mile a minute because Jo had said there’d be lawn games after dinner and maybe even Karaoke.
The small but ever-growing staff was already assembled, and from the sounds of the chitchat and laughter, Jo’s idea to have a staff meal and fun night to kick off each new month was already a hit.
It was hard for Aisha to believe it was July already, and that as of tomorrow, River’s Sigh B & B was booked to capacity for the next two months solid, and already more than half full for September and October. November looked quiet—but December and the first week of January were also full. What Jo and Callum had accomplished in just over four years, with help from Sam and herself—if it wasn’t terrible to take a bit of credit—was astounding.
And the May and June they’d just finished, months Jo considered the low season, had seen numbers that not long ago would’ve been considered a very successful high season.
Jo was still firm about shutting down mid-Jan to mid-April, but Aisha wondered if that would always be the case. If business kept returning and expanding, it wouldn’t make sense. They should discuss staying open year-round. Aisha could run things when Jo and Callum wanted holidays.
Even harder to believe was that Jase wouldn’t be here to see them running full tilt. Wouldn’t enjoy the rush, help with the work, and, most of all, take part in the family meals, evening fun—and her day off gallivants. At Callum and Jo’s request when he gave notice, he’d stayed on through the end of June, but he wasn’t even coming to tonight’s picnic. He’d said he was packing and planning to catch the night bus.
Despite the affirmation that they were still friends, things had been strained between them since that night in the park. They worked together every day and hung out together most of their free moments, but they were both hyper aware that he’d be leaving—and that it was because Aisha had told him he had to.
He reiterated the promise he’d made in the park a couple of times, saying he’d be back, but Aisha didn’t hold out a lot of hope. He would forget about her. He was a rolling stone and she was a cedar with deep roots here—but man, she was going to miss him. And always be grateful to him. For a brief time, she had felt what it was to be not only lusted over, but to be genuinely—and with affection—respected, appreciated, admired, liked, seen. She would never forget it—and she wouldn’t fear romantic relationships as much in the future because now that she’d experienced what they could be, she’d never accept less.
Also, taking in River’s Sigh through his eyes, had made Aisha see, really see, everything—everyone—she was so blessed to have: her huge blood and not-blood family. People whose bond was stronger because they chose it, hadn’t merely been born into it.
She was smiling and her heart was full, but also heavy, as she approached Jo and Callum’s Southern inspired spread. She helped herself and Mo to corn on the cob, dipping each piece of golden deliciousness in hot butter and salting it liberally. Then she added a heap of coleslaw to both plates and topped them with Jo’s should-be-famous pulled pork. She couldn’t believe Jase was missing this.
“Yum, mom!” Mo exclaimed, then giggled. “That rhymes!”
Aisha laughed. How had she gotten so lucky? It was like God or fate or whatever had known what she needed in order to heal. Her daughter. Heart of her heart.
Carefully carrying their laden plates, they walked toward the pretty tables decked out in yellow checked tablecloths.
Callum and Jo were already settled with their own plates, and just as Aisha came up behind them, Jo asked, “Do you think he’d reconsider and leave the dogs with us, at least? I’m really going to miss them.”
The comment didn’t slip past Mo either, and Aisha’s heart lurched when Mo looked at her gravely. “Not just the dogs. I’m going to miss Jase very much.”
Me too, munchkin. Me too, Aisha thought.
Callum shuffled over on the bench to make room for them.
As Aisha set her and Mo’s plates down, he teased—though Aisha worried he was only half joking—“Why’d you have to chase off my best worker?”
Aisha’s heart pounded erratically. Was that what she’d done? Chased Jase off? Regardless, she forced an equally jocular tone. “Pshaw—I’m your best worker.”
Callum chuckled. “Okay, you have a point. Still, Jase is going to leave a big hole. He kinda felt like one of us, you know?”
Aisha did know. All around her, people were bantering, laughing, unloading about this slightly annoying guest, or that funny moment, and devouring the food, but she could only half enjoy it.
They were dividing into Bocce teams for an impromptu tournament when a water drop splatted Aisha’s forehead. She looked skyward in surprise—and two more raindrops fat as tears hit her face. A bank of massive clouds, so dark they almost appeared black, were rolling in fast.
“Brr, Mom,” Mo chattered beside her, and Aisha registered the temperature drop too—so noticeably colder in just minutes. And, of course, Aisha hadn’t brought them sweaters or jackets or anything. Hadn’t thought she’d needed to. The weather had been beautiful and balmy. She glanced up again, shocked by how quickly and completely the surprise storm had overtaken the sky, its serene blue now an ominous purple haze. A lion’s rumble of thunder sounded in the distance—then pounced loud and close. Then louder and closer still.
The smattering of rain became a torrent. It pummelled with a vengeance, beating the earth in sheets. Aisha was already soaked. She had to get Mo in—
Lightning cracked and flashed in rapid succession. There was a collective shriek—the partiers’ surprise mingling with a ferocious howling wind that kicked up suddenly. Aisha was vaguely aware of people yelling and trying to scoop up picnic leftovers that were being blown helter-skelter—then abandoning them and running for shelter. Tents Jo had installed for shade collapsed under its assault and one went flying. Chunks of bark, leaves and twigs whipped from the trees, peppering Aisha’s bare arms and face painfully. A nearby tree flailed about, bending this way and that, like it was a sapling. A large branch tore free from somewhere and hurtled past. And somehow Mo had moved further away from Aisha, not closer.
“Mo!” Aisha’s heart was in her throat. “Come—” but another roaring crash of thunder obliterated her words. A fresh gale of wind hit, and she staggered under its force. It was like being shoved, hard, by another person.
“Mama!” Mo’s wail cut through the storm and sliced Aisha’s already raw nerves. Then she was at Mo’s side, reaching for her—
Her hand closed on Mo’s wrist, just as a mighty crack split the air, louder than the onslaught of rain, stronger, closer, more foreboding than the thunder that was booming almost ceaselessly—yet somehow familiar. What was it? Aisha’s brain struggled to make sense of it, even as it was instantly followed by a splintering-swoosh.
She yanked Mo against herself, wrapping her arms around her and instinctively turning away from the noise. A crashing thud, so close the impact of it juddered through Aisha’s body, shook the ground.
The wind died with the same abruptness it had started. And then—a frightening absence of sound. Just sensation. Icy needles of rain pounding down, pounding down, pounding down. Aisha struggled to comprehend what had happened.
A tree—a tree had fallen.
It seemed everyone else processed the event more quickly than she did. Within seconds, a frantic cacophony of voices and exclamations filled the air.
Callum called out, his voice shaking, “Is everyone okay? Was anyone hurt?”
A tree, thought Aisha numbly, a tree on the west side—one Jase had planned to fall soon, but never got a chance to and now never would.
Sam rushed through the streaming rain to Aisha and Mo. “Omigod, that was so close. Too close.”
Charlie, on Sam’s heels as ever, didn’t say a word, just enfolded Aisha and Mo in a bone-crunching hug.
When Aisha pulled free, her brain battled to make sense of what her eyes clearly told her: a massive cottonwood, decades old, had been brought down by the wind. What shocked her most though—made her sick to her stomach, in fact—was a huge gaping wound in the dirt, a puncture where one of the tree’s huge limbs speared the earth—less than two feet away from where she and Mo stood.
Staring at the deadly looking branch, protruding who knew how far into the ground, Aisha started to shake. If she, Mo, or Jase—or anyone else there tonight—had been in the path of that thing, they would’ve died. And that’s how life was, people moved through it, death shadowing them constantly.
Suddenly, despite her terror and the near-vomiting state of her nerves, she knew something deep in her core. It wasn’t worth it. Trying to be smart. Trying to figure out, plan for, mitigate all that could potentially go wrong. Trying to make sure your life was “sorted” before you let yourself live it. She couldn’t bear to lose another person that she loved—but she also couldn’t bear to be the fool who wasted precious time distancing herself from someone she already loved, when it could be over at any moment, for any of them.
Aisha closed her eyes against the thought, then opened them, resolve cresting through her. She was about to seek out Sam, to see if she would watch Mo for a few minutes, but Mo grabbed her hand and whispered urgently, “Mommy, we need to get Jase. He can’t go.”
Mo seemed on the verge of tears as Aisha scooped her up and started to run, praying she wasn’t too late. “You’re right, Mo-baby. You’re so right!”