Daniel touched the petals of the yellow roses before he set them carefully on the base of Katie’s granite headstone. They were a splash of color in a cemetery filled with white and gray on this New Year’s Eve day. He knew they’d freeze by tonight, but he always brought yellow roses. Always.
He needed to remember to tell the girls that Katie’s favorite color was yellow.
His chest felt heavy as he ran his hand along the polished top of her stone. It was cold, lifeless, stark, reflecting the low, leaden sky above.
He cleared his throat, looking around. Not another soul was in the graveyard this morning.
“Hi, Katie,” he finally spoke, but his voice was gravelly. “I miss you.”
It was the same way he’d greeted her every time he’d visited this stone over the past two years, and every time before today, the words had caught in his throat.
He brushed snow from the granite bench next to Katie’s stone, then sat down, staring at her name and at the way-too-short time span between her first day and her last. Then, as he always had, he started talking about the girls. Told Katie what they’d been up to lately, about how they’d both lost the same exact tooth within twelve hours of each other last week, how they’d insisted on adopting Olaf the cat “because Mommy would have kept him.”
And then he stopped and took a deep breath. The whole reason he’d jumped this flight this morning was because he needed to come here—to Denver—to Katie—before he went to Hayley. He’d felt like he had to visit Katie’s grave one more time—before he could truly think about making a future with someone else.
“So, Katie.” He cleared his throat again. “You’re probably wondering why I’m really here, right?” He took a deep, shaky breath. “I…met a woman. She’s—she’s sweet, and she’s kind, and crazy, but the good kind. She can’t cook anything besides cupcakes, and she would rather live with a big, slobbery dog than a man. But I think she’s fallen for Gracie and Bryn, and maybe—maybe even for me.”
He took another deep breath.
“I wasn’t looking, Kate. I had every plan of going through the rest of my days just being a daddy, not a husband again, and I was grateful for all of it. I never, ever thought I’d find the kind of love we had again.”
Daniel paused, staring up at the dull gray sky. The clouds were barely moving, and the first flakes of snow drifted down to land on his coat. He put his elbows on his knees, emotions roiling. “But here’s the thing I finally figured out. I won’t ever find our kind of love again, because it was me and you—you and me—us. I couldn’t ever find it again.
“I think, though…I think I’ve found a different kind of love.”
A chickadee landed on a low branch near her headstone, tipping its tiny head back and forth. His throat tightened when he saw it. Katie’s favorite bird. Evelyn would say it was a sign, but he didn’t believe in that stuff. He looked at the bird, now looking at him. Of course he didn’t.
He shook his head, shifting his eyes back to the gravestone.
“I—I think you’d like her, Katie. I think the two of you might actually have been friends, given the chance.” He paused, unsure of how to say the rest. “I’m thinking about asking her to stay. But I had to come here. Had to come tell you about her first. Had to—had to say good-bye.”
He took a deep breath, let it out through his mouth. “I’ve never really said…good-bye.”
He felt drops of moisture in the corners of his eyes, and took a frustrated swipe at them. “I loved you, Katie. Loved you so much it hurt. Loved you so much I wanted to lie down in this grave with you so I didn’t have to live without you.” He swiped at his eyes again. “Dammit. I still love you. I’ll always love you.
“But—but I think maybe I can love someone else, too. I think what I finally realized is that falling in love with Hayley doesn’t mean I loved you any less. It doesn’t mean I’ll forget what we had. It just means—maybe I’m healing. And—I think that’s a good thing.”
He took a catchy breath.
“We’re not coming back to live here in Denver. Not now, not maybe ever. I don’t know. For now, Montana is working. I love it there, the girls love it there, and if I’m lucky, I’ll convince Hayley to fall in love with it as well.”
He looked at his watch, then back up at the sky, where the flakes were falling faster. If he was going to make it back to Montana in time to get to Whisper Creek tonight, he needed to get to the airport.
He stood up slowly, reluctant to leave, but anxious at the same time. “I’ll never forget you, Katie. And I’ll never, ever let your daughters forget you. That I promise.”
He put his fingers to his lips and pressed a kiss there, then set his hand gently on the granite, holding it there for a long, long moment. “I have to go.”
“You okay?” Jess sidled up to Hayley near the French doors in the main lodge’s great room. The New Year’s Eve party was in full swing, with a deejay spinning music, the bar hopping, and the ceiling filled with what looked like a thousand silver balloons. It was a festive, happy scene, but all Hayley wanted to do was duck out the doors and go hide her tears in her cabin.
Jess handed her a glass of wine, then did a double take when she saw her eyes. “Oh, no. What happened?”
Hayley blinked her eyes hard a couple of times. “He’s not coming.”
“I never thought he w—” Jess scrunched her eyebrows together. “Did you—expect him?”
“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”
“I thought the plan was to get on the plane tomorrow and try to forget him.” Hayley couldn’t help but see Jess’s lips tipping upward at the edges. “Wasn’t that where you were at last night?”
“It was! It is!” She looked out the doors toward the mountains. “Oh, God, Jess. What have I done?”
“I don’t know. What have you done?”
Hayley looked at her phone, thinking about Daniel’s voice mail, which, as of ten minutes ago, had told her it was full. “I might have left him a couple of messages.”
Jess’s smile got bigger. “How many couple of messages?”
“A few. Eighteen.”
Jess laughed out loud. “You’ve left that man eighteen messages? Hayley Scampini?”
“Yeah, well, turns out it was a stupid idea to do so.”
“Why?”
“Because I just talked to Evelyn. She’s at his house with the girls. Daniel’s not even—there. He went back to Denver.”
Jess’s face fell. “Denver? Did she say why?”
“She said it wasn’t for her to say.” Hayley handed her glass back to Jess. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I can’t be here right now. I dumped my pride right down the proverbial toilet and poured my heart out to that man—well, to his voice mail—and he hasn’t even had the decency to call back. And now he’s in Colorado, for God’s sake.”
She sighed, looking down at the dress she’d picked especially for tonight. It was a subtle kaleidoscope of deep greens and blues, accented with golden threads, and the saleswoman had said it made her hair look like molten fire. She’d left a tip.
When she’d gotten dressed tonight, having left only fifteen voice mails at that point, she’d entertained delusions of Daniel showing up at Whisper Creek in dress shirt and pants, hair maybe a little tousled, body hard and heated. He’d walk across the room, eyes only on her despite the hordes of people in the room, and then he’d take her hands in his. They’d laugh. They’d kiss. They’d dance. They’d move as one, and later, maybe they’d be one.
Instead, she stood at the fringes of a party, one of a hundred people in the room, but except for Jess, completely alone.
Just as she’d always said she wanted to be.