Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
There’s a tiny but mighty thread I’m holding on to, and her name is Reagan Annabel Mosley.
“Mommy said I need to say goodbye. Can I spend the night with you this weekend? I want to go sledding.”
“Reagan, I told you Sean and I will take you,” Katy says in the background.
“But I want Daddy to do it.”
“Of course, Button. We can go sledding this weekend.”
“Maybe we’ll find Josie. Maybe she’s sledding. I feel better when I’m sledding.”
“Reagan …” Katy takes the iPad away from her and frowns at the camera. “I’m sorry, Colten. She just doesn’t understand.”
“Bye, Daddy!”
“Bye.” I ease my head side to side and rub the back of my neck. “It’s fine. I’m glad she doesn’t understand.”
“How are her parents doing? How is your mom doing? God, I’m sure she’s thinking about your dad a lot.”
I nod. “Yeah, I’m sure she is. Josie’s parents are playing the part. They’re going through the motions. Not giving up hope.”
“I don’t think any of us should give up hope, Colten.”
“I think everyone needs to do what’s right for them. If that’s hope, then I won’t take that away. But I knew Josie better than anyone, and that’s left me with a lot … a lot of love, a lot of memories, and a lot of emotions. Hope isn’t one of them.”
Katy frowns. “I’m keeping hope. I think Reagan needs it.”
I try to smile. “Agreed.” Reagan needs hope. She needs fairy tales. She needs Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. I need something different.
“I booked my flight.” Mom peeks her head into my bedroom. “Home just in time for Valentine’s Day by myself.”
I smile, glancing up from my notebook, back against the headboard, legs stretched long. “You could stay. I could be your valentine.”
She grins, taking a seat on the end of my bed. “Actually, Chad promised to take me to dinner anywhere I want to go since Philip will be out of town.”
“Go big.”
She chuckles. “I plan on it.”
It’s been nearly five weeks since the wedding. I work. I spend time with my mom and Reagan, and I send updates to Josie’s parents. It’s always the same update: nothing.
Rains thinks we might find her in the spring when the snow thaws or when Lake Michigan starts to thaw. It’s been frigidly cold. And what he means is we’ll find her body.
We won’t.
Maybe we were only kids when Josie said she’d die in a way that nobody would find her, but I have no doubt that adult Josie with her vast knowledge would keep that promise. Everything’s in limbo. She’s a missing person.
No funeral.
Her house sits empty.
Her parents can’t collect life insurance until a body has been discovered and one of her colleagues signs a death certificate. Most likely, they’ll see the money in seven years. That’s how long it takes to collect life insurance on a missing person.
Nobody needs the money.
Nobody needs her house.
We never got the chance to say our vows, so dealing with her possessions is up to her parents.
“Writing me a love letter?” Mom asks, nodding to my notebook and extra fine tipped Sharpie in my hand.
“Do you want me to write you one?”
She shrugs. “It would be nice. I’ve never been given a love letter.”
That’s sad. It’s sad she married an asshole. I suppose had she not, I wouldn’t be here which means Reagan wouldn’t exist. So I back up the mental train and let myself be a little grateful that my mom did marry that asshole.
I find a blank sheet and scribble a few things before tearing it from the spiral bound book and handing it to her.
She reads it, tears instantly filling her eyes.
Dear Mom,
Thank you for loving me more than any other human has ever loved me.
Your favorite son,
Colten
While she wipes a few tears she laughs. “I won’t show Chad.”
I shrug. “He’s a big boy. He can take the truth.”
She shakes her head. “I do. I love you so far beyond words, it’s … unimaginable.” Her hand rests on my foot. “I feel your grief. I feel the hollowness of your heart. I feel your fractured soul. I feel you. God, I wish I could take it all away. I wish I could bring her back and make her better. A mother wants many things for her children, but I wanted you to experience love. The kind I never had. And I knew it was Josie. I knew it from the time you were young kids, and I’ve known it every day since.”
Pulling in a long breath, she releases it slowly. “You will be okay. You will go on to do great things like you did when you let her go the first time.”
Let her go.
Is that what I’m doing?
I’m not sure I ever really let her go the first time. For seventeen years, I held on to hope. And she came back into my life. It was a goddamn miracle.