“Hey, Mom,” he answered, hugging her just as tightly.

She pulled back, wiping at her eyes. “I’m so glad you’re here.” She smiled, then yanked me in for a tight hug. “Both of you.”

“I’m glad we could make it.” I loved her hugs. They felt like macaroni and cheese on a cold day—just the perfect amount of comfort.

She looked me over with a critical eye. “Yes, I do believe engagement looks good on you. I approve.” Her grin was instant, and mine quickly followed.

A small wait at the baggage claim, then we piled into her Durango, heading for their house in Winslow. Josh slid into the driver’s seat, and I cringed.

“Only if you agree not to drive like a bat out of hell, Joshua,” she lectured as she fastened her seat belt.

“I’ll obey all speed limits, Mom.”

He arched an eyebrow at me in the rearview mirror, and I couldn’t help but smile, fight or no fight. I relaxed after he pulled onto the highway and stayed true to his word.

I checked my emails while Josh and his mom caught up in the front seat. She didn’t mention the crash, and he didn’t bring it up.

It was like we’d entered this tiny alternate universe where it had never happened.

“The drive seems so much shorter now.” Josh laughed around the half-hour mark.

“Than the last time we came in?” I asked.

“No, since Mom used to drive me every day. There’s no ice in Winslow, so she brought me to Flagstaff almost every day for practice.”

“‘Play football,’ I begged him.” She laughed. “‘No, Mom, hockey. It’s my passion.’” Her Josh impression was spot-on, and I couldn’t contain my giggle. “Like an eight-year-old knows what passion is.”

“Hey, I was good,” he argued.

“Keep telling yourself that.” His mom side-eyed him. “Now at nine, nine you were good. Eight…you were like a puppy with huge paws.”

“You have to embarrass me in front of my fiancée?” he joked.

She threw me a grin and a wink. “Your fiancée should know what kind of genes she’s giving my grandchildren. I’m sorry, Ember, they’re all going to have huge feet.”

“Seriously with the kids already?” Josh sputtered.

“I can wait…two years. I think two years is sufficient.”

“Mom!”

“You know what they say about guys with big feet,” I added, and the car went silent. Josh’s eyes flew to mine in the mirror, almost as big. “Really big shoes.”

His snort was drowned out by his mom’s laughter. She’d never pressure us, not really, but God, it was funny to watch Josh squirm.

Two years? Kids? Maybe not two. I’d be in the middle of my PhD program, and that wasn’t the best set of circumstances for a new mom. But maybe three years… Josh would be back at Rucker for the Captain’s Career Course, and we’d have him for a year, guaranteed no deployments.

And if we timed it just right, we could make the most of that year.

Wait. Are you planning a baby around his military career?

Yes, I was. Like everything else. Like where I was going to get my PhD. Like whether or not I was going to Turkey. As much as Josh wanted me to determine my own future, he had to understand that his was definitely setting my parameters.

It wasn’t like a marriage between us could exist any other way.

A buzzing sound woke me up from an unintentional nap the next afternoon. I lifted my head and brushed off a flashcard from where it had stuck to my cheek, and smacked my tongue against the roof of my mouth. Ugh, that after-nap mouth feeling was anything but clean. Untangling myself from the maze of books and papers on Josh’s bed, I reached for my phone on the nightstand. Four thirty p.m. I’d been asleep over two hours.

MOM: HEY, I JUST WANTED TO CHECK ON YOU.

I blinked some semblance of awareness into my brain and rubbed some circulation into my eyes.

EMBER: DAY 2 IN ARIZONA. EVERYTHING IS GOOD HERE. CO?

MOM: JUST MISSING YOU. HOW IS JOSH?

I knew she didn’t mean it as a loaded question, but it was. How was Josh? Fine, if you asked him. Everything was fine. He slept fine, ate fine, felt fine, and we were fine. Liar.

EMBER: HE’S FINE.

Now I was just as bad as he was.

EMBER: I ACTUALLY NEED TO GO FIND HIM, I’LL CHECK IN LATER?

MOM: SOUNDS GOOD. LOVE YOU, HONEY.

EMBER: LOVE YOU.

I stacked my study materials neatly on the little corner desk, checked to make sure my mascara hadn’t made a run for it while I was passed out, and brushed my teeth in the adjoined bathroom, smiling at the Colorado Avalanche shower curtain.

I shut the door softly behind me and walked down the short hallway. The house was a homey two-bedroom, one level with tile floors and high ceilings. Josh’s hockey pictures decorated the hall to the living room, but there was no grown-up Josh waiting there. His mom looked up from folding a pile of laundry. “Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Great,” I said, pulling my hair into a knot on the top of my head. “I must have passed out. I’m so sorry. Can I help you?”

She smiled, pulling a shirt out to fold. “Nothing to be sorry about, and no, you’re on vacation. I peeked in on you earlier when Josh went out, but you looked peaceful. What are you studying so hard at?”

“GRE’s, the test to get into grad school. It’s next week.”

“Smart girl.” She smiled at me. “I’ve always loved that about you.”