one another to get through the crisis. Jeremiah was fairly certain Josie wouldn’t throw a glass of water on him if he were on fire. So much for supporting one another through the storm.
Jeremiah stared at the woman he had thought was the love of his life, the mother of his children, and wondered why he’d never noticed the cruel streak that ran through her like a river. “I think we need a break,” Jeremiah said, attempting to slow the runaway train of their marriage. “I can get a hotel room for a few days.”
Josie sniffed and wiped the remnants of her tears from her cheeks. “Don’t bother,” she said, her voice hardening. “I’m leaving you.”
On some level Jeremiah must have known things might’ve been heading that way but when Josie actually voiced the words he couldn’t help feeling sucker punched. “That’s what you really want?”
Josie didn’t hesitate. “Yes.”
“Don’t you think we should work on it?” Jeremiah wasn’t a quitter even if he could see the writing on the wall. “Do you want to see a counselor?” He was really grasping at straws. Although he didn’t know why. Their marriage was over.
“I never want to see your face again.”
His jaw tensed. There was nothing left to say. “Then get the hell out.”
“Gladly.” Josie shouldered her purse. “I hate you. I hope you never sleep again. I don’t care how you justify your actions—the fact remains if you hadn’t bought that ATV our son would still be alive.”
Jeremiah’s eyes burned with the pain of his grieving heart and in that moment he desperately wanted to take out his pain on the woman standing before him. By the grace of God, somehow he managed to turn away, but he’d been a heartbeat away from killing her.
The echo of a slamming door reverberated in Jeremiah’s memory. Damn, he had to stop traveling down memory lane. That neighborhood had been demolished. He sighed and shook off the morose bent of his thoughts. Sometimes he was just plain tired of feeling bad. Last night with Miranda had shown him that it was possible to feel good again. It sucked about the circumstances...he had a feeling that he and Miranda could’ve made some beautiful sparks together.
* * *
MIRANDA RAPPED THREE times on the solid door of Ocalena’s house but didn’t wait for an answer and simply let herself in. She knew she was always welcome in this house. Johnny’s mother loved her like a daughter, possibly even more than she’d loved her son when he’d been alive. But then, Johnny had been a two-bit criminal who took advantage of every single person who crossed his path, including his own mother. So it wasn’t a stretch for Miranda to stand out and gain points with the old Yupik woman.
Miranda’s eight-year-old son, the light of her life and the reason she got up in the morning, ran into her arms. “Mama!” Miranda forgot about everything else that was going wrong in her life and simply embraced her son and inhaled the scent of her wild boy.
“Were you good for your mamu?”
“Yep,” Talen said, breaking the embrace to show Miranda what he’d made. He held up a rudimentary carving and beamed at his handiwork. “Mamu said I’m a natural. Do you think so, Mama?”
“Absolutely. Carving is in your blood, sweet cheeks. Remember, your poppy is a carver on my side, and it’s on your dad’s side, too. It’s in your heritage.”
Talen giggled and bounded off to continue his next project while Mamu and Miranda caught up. Miranda didn’t know why the old Yupik woman made her feel more at home than her own mother, but when Miranda walked through that familiar door, all the tension simply dropped from her shoulders—which given the anniversary of her sister’s death was a grace she desperately needed.
“Thanks for keeping him,” Miranda said, suddenly feeling very fatigued. She didn’t need to explain herself to Ocalena, but the words started to flow anyway. “I know I should find a better way to deal with Simone’s death, but my good intentions never seem to go very far when it comes down to the actual date on the calendar. It still hurts to think of her. When will that pain ever go away?”
Mamu took a break from the fish stew simmering on the old gas stove and joined Miranda on the ratty, lumpy sofa. She gazed at Miranda with knowing in her dark brown eyes. “You ask the wrong questions. It isn’t when will the pain go away...it is when will you accept that it wasn’t your fault.”
“I know,” she said but Mamu shook her head. There was no bullshitting the woman. Miranda didn’t even know why she tried. “Logically I tell myself it wasn’t my fault. Bad things happen, but I can’t help but wonder how things might’ve been different if I hadn’t been such a jerk about a stupid sweater that I can’t even remember any longer. Simone is gone because of that one decision.”
“No. Simone is gone because a bad man took her. When you finally take that to heart, you will no longer suffer as you do.”
Yeah, probably but not likely. More’s the pity. It might be nice to live without a constant reminder of her guilt. “I have a new boss,” she said abruptly. Maybe she thought she needed to confess her sins because the words were tripping from her mouth as if shoved. “He seems decent enough.” Mamu’s eyes were wise and she smiled, waiting for Miranda to come clean. “I, sort of, met him informally before the rest of the team.”
Mamu chuckled, reading between the lines, but all she said was, “A warm body on a cold night is a good thing.”
“Not when that warm body turns out to be your boss,” she muttered, and Mamu sighed, her eyes twinkling. “You’re incorrigible. I could get fired for something like this.”
“Bah. It’s no one’s business. More people should spend less time with their nose in other people’s business and more time tending to their own. Is he nice?”
“Nice? In what way?” Miranda asked cautiously. “I mean, he’s very professional, very buttoned-down, which is obviously what the administration was looking for since they picked him over me, but I can’t say much more because I don’t know him.”
“Nothing more telling than seeing how a person acts in their birthday suit,” Mamu said, disagreeing. Miranda’s cheeks heated but Mamu shrugged. “You’re a grown woman and a mother besides. What does your heart tell you about the man?”
Miranda startled. “My heart?” she nearly squeaked. “My heart doesn’t say anything. My heart wasn’t involved. My heart only has room for one little man and that’s my son.”
“A son like Talen is a blessing, but someday Talen will go find his own path and will leave his mother behind. What then? This path you’re walking will lead to many cold nights and an empty bed.”
“Well, that’s a long time from now,” Miranda said, uncomfortable with Mamu’s wisdom. She didn’t like the idea of being alone for the rest of her life, but she wasn’t interested in finding out what she could do to change that possible future, either. “Even if I was mildly open to the idea of finding someone to share a future with, it certainly wouldn’t be with my new boss. That’s just an invitation for bad luck.” Miranda stifled a yawn, ready to put an end to the day and the current conversation. “I feel run over. Get your stuff, buddy. Mama needs to hit the bed soon.”
Mamu shuffled off to ladle some fish stew for Miranda to take home, and then after hugging her tightly she sent her on her way.
Later that night after she’d wolfed down the stew, bathed Talen and read him a story and then put him to bed, she fell into her bed and expected sleep to claim her within minutes. But that didn’t happen. Instead, she caught a whiff of Jeremiah’s cologne still clinging to her sheets and immediately fell into a sensual memory of everything they’d done in that very bed less than twenty-four hours ago. God help her, she rolled onto her stomach and buried her nose in one of the pillows to inhale deeply. Why’d he have to smell so good?
She pulled the pillow to her and hugged it tight. It was a full minute