Marrying Ember(10)

As soon as they were out of sight, I rubbed my hand over my mouth, leaving it there as I took a deep breath.

“Shit,” I mumbled with my hand still over my mouth.

Regan let out a heavy breath. “Yeah … shit. Want to go for a walk, or something?”

I shook my head. “I told her I’d be here when they were done.”

“It could take forever.”

“Yep.”

Regan nodded and posted up next to me. “So, what … the hell? Ember looks exactly like her mom, and Willow looks like her mom.”

I turned my head, watching Regan play DNA connect-the-dots in his head.

I shrugged. “And, it doesn’t help that Ashby and Michael kind of look alike. Not like brothers, but maybe cousins … God, I don’t know. Suddenly I can’t remember what the hell anyone looks like.” I squatted down on my heels and Regan followed.

“They have the same exact eyes.” He sat all the way on the ground, resting his hands behind him as he stretched his legs out in front of him.

“Ember and Willow?”

His eyebrows shot up. “You’ve never noticed?”

I sighed, sinking my body onto the loose gravel at the edge of the parking lot. “It was the first thing I noticed when I met Willow for the first time last year. It startled me, honestly. To see the first thing I ever noticed about November mirrored back on the face of a childhood friend of hers? Jesus …”

“It’s not just the color, either. It’s the shape, the way they sit on their faces …” Regan trailed off.

“This isn’t good.” My mouth dried at the implications.

Regan sat forward, bending his knees. “So … that means one of them grew up with a dad that wasn’t their biological dad, then, right?”

The thought speared me in a way I hadn’t felt pain in a long time. Ember and her dad had an amazing relationship. It was peaceful and respectful, a silent harmony always flowing between them.

“That’s why Ember never wanted to talk about it. I mean, Christ, Regan, we talk about everything and she didn’t even want to talk about this. Not one sentence. There was nothing I could do to even ease into the conversation.”

“Do you think she knew?”

I shrugged and shook my head. “I have no f*cking idea. I honestly think she didn’t even want to think about it. For months this has been bubbling under the surface. Fuck, I want to ask this woman to marry me and I can’t even get her to talk about something this big?” My heart raced. I couldn’t reach Ember about this. She kept me away. I wondered if she was still going to push me away when she walked out of that RV.

From behind me, soft footsteps carried a softer voice. “You guys will be okay. This will be okay.” Mags brushed her fingertips along my back as she and Journey sat on either side of me.

“I’m gonna call Georgia. I’ll be back in a bit.” Regan stood, brushing dust from his jeans as he walked away.

I could hardly blame him for needing some space from the conversation, and I respected his desire to give me privacy, but I could have used a little assistance with the Hippie Peace Force that surrounded me.

“Do you want to take a walk, too?” Journey nudged my arm with her elbow.

Mags looked around me to her parter. “He told November he’d be right here when she came out.” She planted a soft kiss on my cheek. “I think that’s sweet.”

“It’s necessary. Did you two know anything?”

Mags looked to the sky as Journey let out a slight sigh.

Fantastic.

“Come on, Mags,” I pleaded.

Mags ran her hand over her short brown hair, stopping it at the back of her neck. When she looked at me, her large brown eyes were uncertain. “It’s not my story to tell, Bo.”

As a matter of course, I looked to Journey for a second opinion. Her blonde dreadlocks moved slowly as she shook her head in apology.

I was growing annoyed—and more anxious—as the minutes passed, though I was sure they felt longer inside that RV than out where I was sitting. “Fine. If you two don’t mind, I’d rather wait here alone.”

Without another word, the couple stood and wandered through two thick trees and into an open field far from the RV. Every other second, or so, I wanted to bail from my post and join them in the sun. In a world that existed only an hour before. The world where Ember knew where she came from. Given the unrest Ember discussed in her childhood—always moving from place to place—she always said that her family was what anchored her. I didn’t know what was going on inside that RV, but I readied the rowboat anyway.

***

A few hours passed before any signs of life came from the RV. Regan had returned earlier, but grabbed my guitar from underneath the vehicle and posted up under a tree a couple hundred feet away, toying with the strings. At some point, Journey and Mags made their way back to the second RV in our dysfunctional caravan, and I hadn’t seen them in two hours.

My legs were alternating between burning and falling asleep when the door opened. In a second I shot to my feet, regretting the hasty movement as my legs woke angrily. With grace on my side, Ember was the first out of the RV. There wasn’t anything in my emotional history that could have prepared me for what awaited.

With swollen eyes, red splotches across her paler cheeks, and her hair tied back from her face, Ember moved slowly down the stairs. The sounds from my guitar ceased from behind me, as Regan appeared to be taking in the scene.