Breathe With Me By Becka Mack - 31

“T HIS IS FUCKING BULLSHIT !”

“I’m an adult! We’re all adults! You can’t do this to us!”

“I don’t need a babysitter!”

“Okay, so we fucked up, like, one time , and popped a bouncy castle. It’s not like we’re gonna do it again!”

“What could I possibly do in the petting zoo? Huh? Tell me!”

“The foam pit too? Why can’t I go in the foam pit? I wanna go in the foam pit! ”

My gorgeous wife drags her gaze away from the shiny pink fingernails she’s been examining for the last five-ish minutes, roughly the same amount of time as the temper tantrum she’s been ignoring. Sky-blue eyes flick up, doing a slow coast down the line of men in front of her. “Are you done?” she asks, as if we didn’t just arrive at the grand opening of Adam’s camp to find out that not only are we explicitly not allowed on the bouncy castle, in the foam party pit, or in the petting zoo, but that she also assigned us babysitters to “keep us in check.” Pfft, keep us in check? What does that even mean? Who needs to be kept in check? Certainly not us.

“I’m glad you asked,” Carter says, eyes ablaze. “No, I’m not done. First, you tell me there’s no karaoke, even though I explicitly asked for there to be, and then—” His eyes widen theatrically as he gestures at the massive bouncy castle across the expansive property. It’s three levels, complete with a maze, three climbing walls, six slides, all leading to a gigantic ball pit, and a tunnel that leads to a bubble balloon house. When I asked Cara how much it cost, she pointed her nose to the sky and said, It would be inappropriate for me to disclose business expenses to outsiders. “ This! You tell me I can’t go on this !” He stomps a foot, as any sane, adult man would do in this scenario. “If somebody doesn’t let me on that bouncy castle, I swear to God—”

“I’m the one who suggested the ball pit!” Garrett shouts, arms wide. “I should get to go in there!”

“It wasn’t me who popped it,” Carter insists. “It was my fork! Please, Care, I promise, I’ve learned my lesson. No forks on the bouncy castle!”

Jaxon steps in front of her, pointing at the humongous gated-off area, overflowing with mounds of foamy bubbles. “If I don’t get to do the Slip ’N Slide into that foam, Cara, I. Will. Cry. Do you hear me? Do you want to be responsible for that? For breaking a grown man’s heart?”

“Grown man?” she murmurs, eyes back on her nails. “Where?”

“Speaking of grown man .” I toss my arms over my head and huff before gesturing at myself. “Right here. I’m a grown man. It’s insulting that you think we need to be babysat at a party for children!”

Cara lets out one of those sighs, the kind where her eyes roll all the way to the sky and her whole body sags. “I knew Adam was the only one I could count on to react like an ad—”

“I… can’t… get in !” Adam pulls at the wooden gate housing the rescued farm animals. He grunts, heaving at the gate with all his might. When it doesn’t budge, he turns back to us, sweat beading on his forehead, face twisted in distress. “Care, I can’t get into the petting area. I can’t get in. How am I gonna pet the animals?” He takes her by the shoulders, eyes wide. “ How am I gonna pet the animals? ”

All hell breaks loose, arms flying in the air, loud, whiny protests, and Carter screeching for help from Olivia, until a whistle cuts through the noise, silencing us immediately.

“ Enough! ” Cara shouts. She snaps her fingers, then points aggressively at her wild, terrifying gaze. “Eyes up here. Now. I love you. Each and every one of you, I love you, but do I trust you? At an event this big, this important?” She shakes her head, patronizing smile in place.

Adam opens his mouth, but Cara silences him with a single finger pressed to his shocked lips.

“Yes, Adam, even you, at your own event. I’m sorry, but these boys hold too much power over you. Your willpower is weak and pliable.”

His expression falls, his shoulders slumped.

“You are free to walk around the grounds and explore—”

“Can we at least do cat yoga?” Jaxon begs. “Please, don’t take that from me.”

“Yes, of course.” Cara nods, smiling as Jaxon whoops a fist through the air. “But it’s goat yoga, not cat yoga.”

“Aw, man . Guess that explains why you said no when I asked if I could bring Mitts.”

“Yes… that explains it…” Cara shifts her wide-eyed gaze back to us. “Anyway. This event is for the kids. We’re here to celebrate the addition of a wonderful camp program to this community, one that helps kids who can’t otherwise afford to get involved with sports, to give them a sense of belonging, and help out some animals who need a new place to call home. If you’re good, I’ll let you play after the event is done.”

My eyes light, and I think everyone else’s do too. “Really?” We look at each other, breaking out into cheers, high-fiving. “Yeah! Fuck yeah!”

“And in the meantime, Dozer and Jaws here will be keeping a watchful eye on you.”

Carter pins his arms over his chest, scuffing at the dirt. “Pfft. Whatever.”

Garrett looks up at the two security guards flanking Cara’s side. They tower over all six-foot-three of him, and he gulps. “So, uh… why do they call you Dozer and Jaws?”

Dozer cracks his knuckles, muscles popping in his too-small T-shirt. “I can put anyone to sleep in thirteen seconds or less.”

“O-oh.” Garrett slowly steps behind Jaxon, who slowly disappears behind Adam. He peeks at Jaws. “A-and you?”

Jaws doesn’t answer. Not with words, anyway. Instead, he grins, so broad, so proud, so fucking menacing, revealing a mouthful of silver teeth.

Garrett definitely doesn’t squeak, and Jaxon does not look like he might vomit. Adam doesn’t sweep his arms out and back, as if protecting the men cowering behind him. Carter isn’t slowly backing away, and I certainly do not grip Cara’s elbow, sliding behind her to use her as a human shield.

No, of course we don’t do any of that. We’re adults.

Jaws leans toward us without a word. The silence crackles in the air between us, like the threat of a looming thunderstorm when you hear a rumble far off in the distance. He seems to sniff the air, like he can smell the fear, and his grin broadens. “Boo,” he whispers, and one shriek melts into another as all five of us leap into the air, spin around, and dash away, Cara’s cackles trailing behind us.

Two hours later, long after the girls arrived with the kids and the event began, I finally manage to escape my sitters while they’re preoccupied with Carter’s third attempt to sneak into the bouncy castle. It’s a gorgeous, early June day, and all five acres of this glorious camp are filled with laughter and smiling faces. I’m proud of Adam, of all the ways he continuously devotes himself to helping kids who aren’t so fortunate, and this camp is just the latest in all his endeavors.

But I’m proud of Cara too. For stepping back from work to focus on herself, taking the time she needed and not rushing back until she was truly ready. As I find her in the sprawling modern barn, helping a group of laughing kids and adults navigate goat yoga, I’m sure there isn’t a sight more beautiful than her smile, the confidence that she exudes only when she’s sure of herself.

There’s no doubt that this period of our lives has been the most challenging, even more so for her. But Cara is still herself. The woman I fell in love with. My best friend. She’s changed, transformed, but it’s a privilege to know every version of her—to love them.

I watch as her eyes move over the crowd, and I know before they stop that she’s looking for Abel. I know she’s found him the second that smile turns into a cheek-splitting, detonating grin. Every version of Cara shines in its own way, but there’s no doubt about it: She glows from the inside out as a mother.

I follow her gaze to Abel, and my heart does that thing it does every time I see him: floods with warmth, thuds a fast, happy beat, and I wonder if I glow too. I feel like I do.

As I watch him, though, trying to balance upside down on a yoga mat with Catharine, the two of them nothing more than a pile of giggles, my heart does something else. It stutters, trips over itself before picking up speed, racing faster and faster, and I struggle to keep up. Grief creeps in, wrapping itself around my heart, squeezing like an angry fist until I have no choice but to turn away from the reminder that Abel won’t be with us forever, that any day now could be the day we have to say goodbye.

I don’t want to say goodbye to him.

“Emmett!”

I pause in the doorway of the opened barn, glancing back at him over my shoulder. His palms flat on the mat, butt in the air, his sweet face grins up at me upside down and from between his legs.

“ Look! I’m doin’ down dog! Do you see me? I’m doin’ it! ”

“I see you, buddy.” I always do. I see the way his eyes follow Cara everywhere we go, so bright and full of love, like he can’t believe she exists. I see the way he looks to us when he meets new people or tries new things, how he places all his trust in us to keep him safe. I see how he’s grown into himself, found his passions and given himself permission to explore them without fear of making mistakes. I see the grace he’s learned to give himself when mistakes happen, the kind and encouraging words he uses to speak to himself, the way he’s begun to forgive himself for the messes, the accidents, and how he’s no longer frozen with fear. I see him, nearly four years old and working every single day to be who he wants to be, growing unapologetically. And I’m so damn proud of him. I smile at him, giving him a thumbs-up that he returns eagerly, falling to the mat in the process. “You’re doing it.”

He beams at me, and I swear it hits me like sunshine, straight to my chest with enough force to knock me on my ass. He presses a loud kiss to his palm, then blows it at me. “Put it in your pocket for later.”

I catch his air kiss, stuffing it in my pocket before I blow one back that he catches enthusiastically. “Put it in your pocket for later.”

I spend the next half hour wandering the camp, ignoring the messages from the boys who want to know how I managed to escape Dozer and Jaws. Apparently, Dozer will give me a hundred bucks for my return. Turns out the big man’s terrified of my wife. I don’t blame him. By the time I make it back around, I’m ready to turn myself in. I pull out my phone, typing out a text that tells the boys they can find me near the petting area, but before I can send it, I spot Catharine sitting on a bench by herself, tucked away from the noise but with her gaze fixed on a spot ahead of her.

I follow her stare behind the gates of the petting area, to where Abel is on his knees in the dirt, scratching the chin of a woolly sheep, his other hand tucked into Cara’s.

I can’t quite decipher the look on Catharine’s face, same as I couldn’t when she showed up here, hesitating just outside the gates like she wasn’t sure turning up to this was the right idea, even though Abel had asked her to. Now, the corner of her mouth is curved in an easy smile as she watches Abel and Care, and though there’s an ungodly amount of love stacked in her gaze, there’s a sadness too. She looks a little lost, like she’s searching for an answer but hasn’t quite figured out the question yet. But beyond that, she looks… different. She sits taller, shoulders back, head held high with the kind of confidence that comes from connecting with yourself. She looks relieved, recharged.

Happy, I realize. She looks happy.

We haven’t spent much time with her, only the two hours every three weeks when we meet up with her, but as Cara’s slowly cracked her open the way she does, we’ve learned a lot about her. Our childhoods looked a lot alike, and though this situation isn’t ideal, cutting contact with her parents after they kicked her out was clearly the right choice for her. Sometimes I wish I’d made the same choice when I left home.

Tucking my phone away, I amble over. “Can I join you?”

She shifts over, looking at the space she’s made before giving me a smile. “This is such an incredible event,” she murmurs as I take a seat beside her. “I can’t believe Cara did all this.”

“She’s a superstar. She consistently outdoes herself.”

She hums, mouth hooking in a smile as Abel clutches his stomach in a fit of laughter while Cara attempts to escape the tongue of a cow who seems to have deemed her as delicious as I know her to be. “I can’t tell if he’s more enthralled by the animals or by Cara.” Before I can respond, Catharine shakes her head. “It’s Cara. He’s definitely more enthralled by Cara.”

I huff a laugh. “She has that effect on people.”

“I can’t believe he’s almost four. Are you guys planning anything for his birthday?”

“Cara and I wanted to talk with you about that, actually. We weren’t sure if you had something specific in mind, or if you’d like to plan with us.” There’s also the fact that we don’t know if he’ll still be with us in July.

“Surely Cara’s got something up her sleeve.”

“Oh, she’s got something up her sleeve,” I say with a chuckle. “Or seventeen somethings up her sleeve, and a Pinterest board for every one of those seventeen somethings.”

Catharine twists toward me with a smile. “Stop it. Really? Like what?”

“Fuck, lemme see.” I blow out a sigh, listing a handful of the themes Cara’s been obsessing over while trying simultaneously not to get too attached, in case Abel’s not with us come his birthday. “There’s Reach Four the Stars, Four-ever Wild, Four-nado, Need Four Speed, Roar I’m Four , which is the most ideal, since it’s dino themed, and, well…”

“He’s obsessed with dinos,” she finishes with a smile that fades too fast. I watch her throat work with her swallow, and she grips the edge of the bench, looking down at her lap. “He’s never had a real birthday party. When he turned one, I took him for his first ice cream cone. We sat on the Dairy Queen patio and I sang ‘Happy Birthday’ while he smashed his ice cream cone into his face, and then the table. That’s kind of been our tradition ever since. He’ll love having a party.”

“There’s nothing like a dipped cone from DQ. I bet he’d love to continue that tradition with you. We’d be happy to meet you at Dairy Queen so you can keep it going.”

“I’d really appreciate that. And he always tells me about reading books with you guys under the stars, so maybe Cara could find a way to combine Reach Four the Stars with dinosaurs too.” Her gaze goes back to Abel, all kinds of soft as she watches him in silence. When she speaks again, her words are heavy and hoarse.

“I loved him the moment I saw him. I knew I would; that was never the issue. But I still begged my parents to reconsider. To let me give him to a loving family. To let me be a kid.” She swipes a tear from her eye. “They told me I should have thought about that before I had sex. That actions have consequences.”

“You were fifteen,” I remind her gently. “Your brain’s not fully developed at fifteen.”

She chokes out a laugh. “My brain’s not fully developed now at nineteen.”

“Society loves the consequences line because it’s easier to blame someone than to step back and look at how they’ve failed to properly educate kids .”

“Right? And then you go home, where your parents act like sex doesn’t even exist, and somehow you’re expected to figure it all out and know better.” Catharine shakes her head. “I’m not saying the choices I made weren’t mine; I’m just saying, maybe it’s irresponsible of parents to insist on cookie and peepee instead of vagina and penis because sex is so damn taboo, heaven forbid we use the anatomically correct names for our body parts.”

She sighs, scrubbing a hand down her face. “You know, it wasn’t even their treatment of me that upset me. It was that they called Abel a consequence. Like he was nothing more than a lifelong punishment they could hang over my head. He wasn’t their grandson. Not the sweet little boy who begged for the Ghostbusters theme song fifteen times a day so he could dance to it, who was obsessed with running circles around the kitchen table with oven mitts on both arms, who walked up to complete strangers at the grocery store and asked them for hugs. He was a consequence, and sometimes… sometimes I think they wanted me to hate him as much as they hate me. At the very least, they wanted me to hate my life as much as they hate theirs. But I could never, ever hate Abel. And I think… I think I’m slowly learning to love my life.”

“You seem different,” I tell her. “I know we don’t know each other that well, but thinking back on the person we met two months ago… you’re different.”

She looks up at me, her gaze a mix of hope and hesitancy. “Good different?”

I nod. “Good different.”

Her shoulders deflate with a sigh of relief. “I feel different. Like I’m finally in control of my life, maybe. Making my own decisions, choosing my own path. I feel kind of… unstoppable. I know that’s silly,” she adds quickly. “Like, how can I call myself unstoppable when I’ve been couch surfing for six months? It’s just, it feels like I’ve lived these nineteen years thinking I wasn’t capable of anything, even being a good daughter, or my parents’ version of a good daughter, at least. They expected me to fail when they kicked me out; I know they did. I think I did too. But instead… instead, I’m doing it. Things I never thought I’d do, and I’m doing it on my own. I got my high school diploma, I got a job, and I just passed my freaking driving exam, even though I don’t know when I’ll be able to afford a car. I walk every day, read in the morning, and write whenever the mood strikes, which is, like, all the time lately. It’s like I finally gave myself the time of day, recentered, and now… now I wake up every morning and I’m excited. I’m happy. I’m… capable. I’m capable ,” she whispers, like she’s only just truly realized it. She clears her throat, looking down at her knees as she grips the bench, the revelation sinking in. When her head lifts, her gaze goes right to Abel. “Can I tell you something, Emmett?”

“You can tell me anything.”

She gnaws on her lip, knee bouncing. Looks down, then back up. Takes a breath, and finally, spills her secret out into the space between us. “I got into the creative writing program at UBC.”

“ What? ” I leap to my feet, tugging Catharine to hers, wrapping her in a hug so tight I lift her straight off the ground as she erupts with giggles. “Cat, that’s amazing ! Congratulations!” I set her back down, and she plops back to the bench, fanning her face and trying to catch her breath.

“Thanks. It was all Cara. She’s the one who told me about it. Practically forced me to apply. I never would have without her.”

“Nah.” I shake my head. “She can put the idea in your head, but you getting accepted? That’s all you. Don’t take that accomplishment from yourself.”

She grins at her lap, cheeks pink. “Yeah, I guess.”

“All right, what’s the plan?” I clap my hands together. “We should celebrate. Have you already celebrated? Let’s celebrate again. What’s your favorite food? Cara’s got a list of restaurants prepared for every craving. Pick a day, and we’ll—”

“No celebration,” she says quietly, her smile there still, but… different. Wistful, maybe.

“No.” I shake my head. “No.” I point my finger in her face. “If you tell me you’re not going—no, if you tell Cara you’re not going—”

She swats my finger away, giggling softly. “I can’t go.”

“You certainly can,” I argue, because how can she not? Dream school, dream program? You don’t miss a chance like that.

“How? The Okanagan campus is in Kelowna. It’s five hours away. I’d have to quit my job at the library, and I know I can get another job there, but… it’s so expensive. Like…” She rubs the distress right off her forehead. “ So expensive. I made a spreadsheet, and even with student loans it feels unmanageable. And the payments start right away. There’s a five-hundred-dollar deposit to confirm my acceptance, and then another deposit for off-campus housing, since I applied late, and then—” She breaks off, shaking out her hands. “I don’t know what to do. I’d have to pour every dollar I’ve saved into this. Maybe I work for a year or two, save up, and then reapply and see if I get in again. Or”—she shrugs, like this is as simple as deciding what to eat for lunch—“maybe I don’t go. Maybe just knowing I was good enough to be accepted, maybe that’s enough.”

My heart thuds as I look at Catharine, a girl who’s never been allowed to choose herself, but instead been forced to accept whatever breadcrumbs someone else has left out for her. And I’m angry for her. I want to fight for her. I want her to fight for herself too. “Only you can decide what’s enough for you,” I tell her quietly. “You’re not used to it, I get it, but you’re in charge. You’re your own boss. You get to decide which path you take. You decide how worthy you are of the life you want to live. You’re the only person who can go after it. You’re the only one who can choose you, over and over.”

She grips the bench, releasing a shaky breath. “I’ve never had that kind of control. Getting to choose my own ending?” She shakes her head. “No way, that’s not how life has ever worked for me.”

“How has life worked for you?”

“However my parents decided.”

“And where are your parents?”

“They’re…” She frowns, but it’s not all grief. There’s a realization, a slow dawning that comes to life in her eyes. “Not here,” she finally finishes on a murmur. “They’re not here. This isn’t their life.”

“Sure as shit isn’t.”

Excitement brews, so palpable, bubbling up inside her until it threatens to spill out. “This is my life. I get to choose my own ending.”

“Yeah you do!” I hold my hand up, and when she claps hers against mine, I grip it, shaking it. “Fuck yeah, Cat!”

“Oh, Emmett.” Cara throws one arm up from across the yard, the other clutching two ducklings to her chest. “An event filled with children. Can you not have the mouth of an angel for one day? You should be more like me.”

Catharine and I snort a simultaneous laugh. Even Abel looks at Cara like she has three heads. She introduced a swear jar at home in an attempt to control her language around Abel, and it’s going spectacularly. Whoever swears less at the end of each week gets morning-shower oral every day of the following week. Three weeks in, and it’s clear my cock is more committed to the game than her pussy.

“If she had a mouth like an angel, I’d call her angel,” I mutter, “not firefly.”

Catharine giggles, then sinks against the bench with a heavy sigh, shoulders dropping. Her smile is all kinds of easier as she watches Cara and Abel dance their way toward the bouncy mansion. “I wish I’d had that.”

“Had what?”

“That. That type of mother, that type of woman on my side.” Her eyes flicker. “I wonder how my life would be different if I’d had a mother like Cara. I wonder who I’d be.” She looks away, clearing her throat. “Do you guys want kids of your own someday?”

“Oh, uh… Well, we… um…” My heart patters a fast, uneven beat, a familiar ache stretching across my chest. I press my palm to it, trying to rub away the pain that always seems to sneak up when I’m least expecting it. “We wanted to.” I close my eyes, shaking my head. “We still want to. But we… it’s not that…” Sighing, I rub the sudden exhaustion from the nape of my neck. “Sometimes things don’t work out exactly how you planned.”

Catharine’s brows tug together, head cocked as she looks me over. Her gaze finds Cara, then me, the way I wring my hands, my bouncing knees, settling on my eyes, and fuck knows what she sees there. Sometimes I swear I see every tortured thought in Cara’s head just by looking at her eyes.

“Oh my God,” she murmurs. “You’re kidding me.” She drops her face to her hands, slowly dragging them down as she buries a disbelieving chuckle in them. “I’m sorry. This isn’t funny. It’s just one of those situations, you know, where if you don’t laugh you’ll cry. Like”—she lifts her face from her hands, arms out wide as she chokes out another disbelieving laugh—“how fucked-up is that? I was fifteen and never wanted to be a mom. And then there are…” She sighs, gesturing at me, at Cara across the property. “There are people like you two, two adults in love, in a healthy relationship, who want it more than anything, and…”

“Can’t get it to work,” I finish for her, nodding. “I’ve admittedly had my fair share of grievances about that. Not about you, but just… why not us? I just…” I palm my neck, shrugging. “I dunno. I think we’d be pretty good at it.”

Catharine’s eyes soften. “You are good at it. You’re amazing with Abel. I know he’s growing, but it’s so much more than age. He’s confident. He’s adventurous. He’s… he’s not afraid to exist exactly as he is. You guys did that.”

I swallow the tightness in my throat, looking down at my hands in my lap. “I think… I think I just wanted to do right by someone. I see what I missed out on, what I needed as a kid that I didn’t get. What I did get that I really, really could’ve done without. It’s not easy, but… you know what I do when it feels really hard? When he’s having a tough time and all I can think about is how my parents used to treat me when I was having a tough time? When what I know feels easier than trying to change a pattern? I take his hand in mine. It’s just so… so fucking small. It reminds me that he’s just a kid. That he’s still growing and learning. That I’m the adult, I’m the one who’s supposed to know how to manage all the heavy, hard emotions, and he looks to me. He learns from me.” The tightness in my chest eases finally, a whoosh of breath that seems to take all the aches with it, giving them to the wind. “I wanted to do right by him. I thought we could. But I realize now that it’s him who’s done right by us. Healed us a little each day, and all he did was trust us.”

I sniff, blinking away the sting in my eyes as Catharine lets her tears fall freely, silently.

“I grew up questioning my worth. Left home so I could find it, and I did. Found a family who loves me for me. But that kid right there, putting all his trust in me? That’s gotta be the most powerful feeling in the world, because nothing has ever, ever made me feel so worthy.”