So We Can Glow - Stories - Leesa Cross-Smith Page 0,68

want to tell her everything. I want to tell her how strong my own mother is and had to be after losing my sister. I want to tell her how strong Heather is for leaving her abusive relationship and raising her son on her own for so long. I want to hear about the strong women in her life, how we put one foot in front of the other even when it feels like the world’s most impossible task. I want to tell her that Amber was a strong woman too, she just hadn’t had a chance to keep going. I touch the locket around my neck, double-check that it’s properly pressed closed. I look at the woman’s profile, the haze and heavenly wonder of both the flat and fluffy clouds outside her window. The horizon, proof of the unfathomable sky.

The woman’s husband appears in the aisle beside me and I wipe my nose quickly and move so he can return to his seat. I smile over at the woman and she smiles too, our female secrets like mist, quickly and easily blown away by the mere presence of a man between us. I reach for the armrest, remember Bradley’s that’s not relaxing and let go. I finish my wine, read some more.

Louisville Muhammad Ali International Airport. 85 degrees. Winds 5 mph.

By the time we land I’m a little drunk. I text Bradley that I’m okay, that I made it, that I had wine. I ask if he and Evan are okay.

We’re fine! We miss you! Call me in a little bit! Have more wine if you need it!

I smile. All those exclamation points are turning me on. He knows exactly what to do. I love him so much. Oh, how I wish Amber had lived to meet Bradley. They would’ve loved each other. There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t wonder what she’d be like now and think about how much she would love Evan, how much he’d love her.

Before we disembark, the woman by the window takes my hand and squeezes, tells me to enjoy myself. I tell her I’ll try my best, I tell her I’ll pray for Quincy, wherever he is, wherever he is going. And I pray it right then and there so I won’t forget. I’m so thankful Evan isn’t old enough to join the military yet, isn’t leaving me anytime soon. I still have time. We still have time. Anxiety itches at me as I double-check my phone to make sure I’d told my mom and Heather the right time. Maybe I should text them again. But no, I look up and see them. Waiting for me with a little white sign that reads WE LOVE CRYSTAL in fat pink marker. My eyes tear up, my face heats—because I’ve been thinking about Amber, because I’ve been so worried, because being a human is hard, because being a mom is hard and because I’ve missed them both so much.

“Aw, I missed you,” my mom says.

“I’ve missed you too,” I say.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Heather says.

“I’m so glad to be here.”

We step out into wisteria-summer air, walking to my mom’s car. And before we get in, Heather puts her hands on my cheeks and kisses my mouth. I kiss her back. I feel better. I prayed for Quincy to be okay, for his mom to be okay. Bradley’s okay, Evan’s okay, I’m okay. I have a pair of shark socks and a Braves cap in my bag for Heather’s son for later, a present from me—his Aunt Crystal who loves him so much. It feels good to be home. Small victories! Now this, this is relaxing. And Heather’s lips still taste like cherries or strawberries or pink or grape or blueberry or lemon or Dr Pepper. Girl-gravity.

Downright

Dolly smelled the sea. No. It was him. She hated his sexiness. How annoying. There he was smelling clean. Smelling blue. Celeste. Smelling like the sky and six sharp hours of puck-white sun. Kent, her husband Jed’s new friend from work. Jed had called on his way, asked if it were okay for Kent to come home with him. She’d heard Kent in the background. It was embarrassing. How could she say no? She’d met him a few times before—quick, meaningless. Like two leashed puppies passing on the sidewalk.

In Dolly’s kitchen, Kent held out his hand for her to shake.

“Oh,” she said with a crinkle of disappointment at his formality. She shook it and smiled.

“My