His eyes drift shut, but he nods. "Just having a night cap." He leans back in his chair and looks toward Lucy, whose head is resting on the window of the car.

"I was just going to carry her to her room if that's okay with you?"

"She drink tonight?"

"You want me to lie to you?"

He chuckles. "Yes."

"Then no, she didn't drink. She also didn't puke either."

His face turns to a grimace. "At least she's experienced it once, right? I'm glad you were there with her."

"Of course."

He inhales deeply and looks at his watch. "Curfew at one?"

"Yes sir."

Rubbing his hand across his beards, he asks, "You think you can call your mom? Ask her if you can stay with Luce tonight? She might need someone in case she gets sick again."

My eyebrows bunch in confusion. We've never spent the night together, but I guess we've never asked. We just assumed it wouldn't be allowed. "Are you sure?"

His eyes close again, like he almost can't control it. "Just don't take advantage of it, okay?"

"I'll just text her, she's probably at Mark's anyway." I hit send, and not a second later her name flashes on my screen. She speaks to Tom quickly before agreeing.

He tells me to leave Lucy in the car and sit with him for a bit. "Are you sure you're okay?" I ask him.

He doesn't respond to my question. "You ever had whiskey?"

I shake my head.

He pulls a glass off the tray and starts pouring.

It's the second time today an adult has given a minor alcohol.

The liquid burns in my throat. Tom laughs.

"That's..."

"An acquired taste," he finishes for me. "It's for grown men."

I try it again. Same reaction.

"How's school?"

"Good. Lucy keeps me in check."

"College plans?"

"Still the same."

He leans back in his chair, his arms folded over his chest. "Tell me again?"

And even though I have a feeling he already knows it all, I tell him anyway. Because I don't think it's about the college plans. I think he's just lonely.

I never really thought about college until Lucy came along. At first, it was just because I knew she wanted to go to UNC. She said that's where her parents met on graduation day. It wasn't until Tom saw my sketch and said that I could be an architect that I started taking it seriously. Lucy helped me to switch classes and start a plan. For now, UNC's a dream. I doubt I'd get accepted, and even if I did, we wouldn't be able to afford it. Mom and Luce have been going crazy looking into the grants and scholarships. They said it would be unlikely I'd get financial aid because of Dad's income, not that we ever see any of it.

I try to stay out of it. They may think it's possible, but I don't want to get my hopes up.

The original plan was for me to follow her there, get a full time job and maybe a little apartment for us. Now, it's most likely community college and, somehow, scrape together enough change for a tiny studio apartment. I don't think she'd want to live with me in a place like that, but I don't want to be too far from her that I wouldn't be able to see her every day. Everyone knows my plans, and the only one that has questioned me following my high school sweetheart like a sick puppy is my dad. I would argue with him, but I can see his point. On paper, it seems crazy. In real life, crazy would be me if I didn't get to see her every day.

Tom nods while I explain all of this to him, but I doubt he's really listening. "Are you sure you're okay, Tom?"

"Yeah," he sighs. "I'm having a rough day is all."

I rub the back of my neck nervously. "You want to talk about it?"

He eyes me now, his gaze so intense I almost forget to breathe. "Lachlan called Virginia Mom." He rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm. "Actually he's been calling any woman he sees Mom. Virginia said it was because he gets confused at the playgroups she takes him to." He sighs and sips his drink. "I just miss her, Cam." He sniffs and wipes his eyes again, trying to hide his tears. "Some days are good, some days are bad. Today's a bad day. But two days ago, I had the worst kind of day. I forgot her." He sniffs again, clearing his throat roughly. "I went a day when I didn't think about her, and I went to bed thinking it was a good day, and then I realized why. I don't want to forget her, but it hurts too much to always remember her, you know?"

"No." My voice breaks, I clear it quickly. "I don't know," I answer truthfully. "And to be honest with you, I don't ever want to know. I can't spend a day without seeing Lucy. I don't even want to begin to understand the world of hurt if that were forever."

He nods, his tears falling faster than before. "Hey, remember that time you and Lucy were here and she was telling you how she pictured your first house? You know, after college."

I laugh once. "Yeah, she was so detailed she asked me to sketch it."

He reaches over the table to his briefcase and clicks it open. He pulls out a few sheets of paper and goes through them. "This is your sketch, right?" He pushes my sketch across the table.

"Yeah, that's it." I smile. "How did you get this?"

"You left it on the coffee table."

"Oh."

He opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. Then he sighs heavily and drops the rest of the papers in front of me. "I built it," he states.

Before I can wrap my head around what he's just said, he continues, "About a mile from here, still on our property. I'm going to show Luce tomorrow. She needs somewhere quieter, she's always complaining she can't study with all the noise. Just don't abuse my trust okay, Cam?"

I shake my head. "No, sir. I wouldn't."

"I know." He nods slowly. "I know that." He sighs again. "Can I be honest with you?"

"Always."

"I don't know... maybe when you guys go off to college, you can come visit me every now and then. That cabin will always be there for you two. Maybe summers you can come home? I know the boys will miss you." He wipes at his eyes again, unable to hold it in any longer. "You coming into Lucy's life the way you did—I don't know what would've happened if you weren't there—if you weren't there to see her suffering. Sometimes I wonder what she'd be like now if you..." He clears his throat. "I'm just grateful you're around for my little girl."

I watch as he stares down at the table, his eyes red raw from all the tears he's been crying, probably well before I showed up. And I've never felt what I feel now—this intense ache for a man that's lost half of himself. A man that's so hurt and so confused by his wife's memory that he's stuck. Not wanting to move forward but afraid to go back. "My wife would've loved you, kid," he mumbles, his eyes never lifting.

And even now, when he's so emotionally drained, he's still thinking of her. He still calls her his wife. I wonder if he'll always think of her as that, even when she's long gone. His forever wife.

I suck in a breath and swallow nervously. Squaring my shoulders and lifting my chin, I inform, "I'm going to make Lucy my wife one day."