My mouth goes dry. “Yeah.”
“I think I was meant to do a lot more than just find you.”
I tuck my grin into the collar of Rowan’s hoodie. “Like what?”
“I’m not allowed to say yet.”I love you.“And all of this…you and me…” I imagine him gesturing into the void, perhaps to the stars as though we were written into them. “It’s always been bigger than us. That’s why you felt safe.”
“Because the universe knew I needed you?” The big army man with the patient eyes, soft touch, and kind heart.
His voice is steadfast like the mountains in the distance and the ebbs and flows of the tide. “No, baby. Because we needed each other.”
57
mom always knows
Hannah
A few daysafter our stargazing date, Rowan has a second electric blanket delivered with a note.
Hannah,
Tonight is for you and your mom. I think she’d like to look up at the stars with you again.
Love,
Rowan
With Rowan occupied keeping his own mom company in the hospital after her operation, I savor this night carved out for Mom and me.
It’s not how it used to be. There’s no wine and our best friends are painfully absent. The wheelchair she’s confined to means Mom has a difficult time craning her neck upward. I nurse a mug of hot chocolate while helping her sip broth from a thermos, both of us wrapped snug in ourmatching blankets.
But she’s awake. And smiling. She asks about Tess, and I pass along what Rowan has told me about her surgery—it was successful and now they’re preparing for a fresh round of challenging physical therapy.
Though Mom’s speech is labored, we exchange a few memories of our time spent out here with Gwyn and Maddy. Richard joins us after a while, and Mom reaches for his hand right away.
I don’t often think about the time I wasted on Gerald, but the memories tumble in like a rush without my permission. Years spent trying to jam a square peg into a round hole because I thought I could fake it—present the illusion of star-crossed lovers up to their ears in happiness to my dying mother.
Watching Richard tuck Mom’s frail hand in his knocks me back like an avalanche. Something clicks then—how wrong I was to think true love could be faked.
It’s why Mom didn’t pepper me with a million questions when I ran out on my wedding. I didn’t need to tell her. She’s my mom—she already knew the love was a fraud.
It’s why she never told me I was crazy to dive in head first with a man leaving town in two weeks. I didn’t need to justify my choices for her. She’s my mom—she already knew I’d found my person.
Whether it’s a farce or as real as the breath in my lungs, Mom knows. She always knows.
I could shake my fist at the powers that be for not allowing Mom to experience this kind of love in her life until she’d nearly left it. For not giving them more time. But then I see it again—the way they look at each other—and my righteous anger, the need to blame something or someone...it vanishes.
We’re not all that different. Soulmates rarely are. For nearly thirty years, I’ve had her and she’s had me. I’ve kept her grounded and she’s reminded me to spread my wings every now and then. It’s no coincidence our perfect people entered our lives at the exact right time we needed them. When we needed comfort. Understanding. A reason to hope.
I’d like to believe Mom finally told Richard how she feels. But if she hasn’t, I certainly hope he sees it in her eyes the way I do.
“It’s cloudy tonight,” Richard says.
“The best,” Mom and I answer in unison.
Reminiscence softens the gaunt lines of her face. “The clouds always were you and Maddy’s favorite.”
I nod in the silence as we stare up at the sky.