Page 63 of Forget Me Not
Del sobbed into his shoulder.
“I want you to do what makes you happy—what makes you feel fulfilled. If you want to go to college in California, or New York, or Colorado, I don’t care. Just please, don’t worry about Mama, be true to you, Bug—Mama will be fine. I’ll make sure of it, okay?”
Sniffling, Del leaned back and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “Thanks for always being there for me.”
Bas nudged her shoulder with his. “What are brothers for? I can’t just pick on youallthe time.” That earned him a real laugh.
“You know, I’ve missed this. I like seeing you smile again,” she said.
He chuffed, one corner of his mouth curving up slightly while his eyes drifted to the house.
“I like her. A lot,” she admitted, her tone leaving no room for doubt. With his eyebrows in his hairline, he turned to look at her again.
“Just saying, if I had to pick between you two…It would bereallyhard.” She shrugged one shoulder, doing a poor job of hiding her smile.
Laughing loudly, he pushed her chair over.
Syve
Gurglingfromthecoffeepot echoed through the loft as Syve stretched her arms above her head, then threw the sheet off her body and swung her legs over the edge of the bed.
With a mug of coffee securely in her possession, she made a lap of her home, collecting an arm load of things that needed to be put away as she went. In the kitchen, she collected a few of her mother’s journals that were still lying out. After shelving the journals in the living room, she ventured to the bathroom, where she caught her reflection and distracted herself with a much-needed shower.
Afterward, she dug out her dusty blow dryer and, for the first time in ages, she blow-dried her hair.
Once she was showered and dressed—in a pale yellow sundress with daisies trailing down one side, pulled from the deep recesses of her closet—she dragged her laundry basket from the hall to the washer.
While separating the clothes from the towels, she tripped over Erhard’s boots.
Syve stared at the boots—still where they had lain for over a year and a half.
With a deep breath, she closed her eyes, turned back to start the wash, then stooped down to pick up the boots. Tears pricked at her eyes, but she smiled as she hugged the dirty leather footwear.
Ceremoniously, she walked them to the closet, where she nestled them among the sneakers and dress shoes of the same size, and gently closed the closet door.
Clouds darkened the sky and thunder rumbled in the distance as Syve made her way down the alley.
It was a Tuesday, so she waited until lunch to walk to the cemetery. Asking Bastien to join her had crossed her mind, but this visit felt like one she needed to make alone.
This trip was not for her, and it was not for Noah. It was Erhard’s thirtieth birthday.
Passing by the ever-watching Angel statue, she habitually counted her steps, taking the usual thirteen, then two more. On the back of the stone writ with her sons name, another was etched:
E
July 16th, 1989
December 5th, 2017
Loyal Husband, Loving Father.
Buried beneath her feet was the box holding his remains. Other than her, only Aimi knew he was there.
Everyone believed he’d intended to be buried on the Gehring farm, but when he died without leaving behind a will and Syve was given the power to keep him close—she did. She was too ashamed of going against his wishes to admit it to anyone—her soul sister excluded.
The left side of the stone was empty—meant for her. One day. A day she suddenly realized she wanted to be far, far in the future.
“Alles Gute zum Geburtstag.”
