Rocco and Mandy: A Red Team Wedding Novella (Book #6.5) by Elaine Levine

want to live out our days together. I want to see you white-haired—or bald—and old. Very, very, very old. I don’t want to grow old alone.”
    Tears spilled down Rocco’s cheeks. He looked forward. “But what about my baby?”
    “We can find someone to talk to about it. Maybe it’s Kimble. Maybe a pastor or an imam. Maybe it’s Kelan’s shaman. Or a medium…someone who can listen to your heart and speak to your baby’s spirit. Let’s try that before you throw everything away.”  
    He sighed and nodded. “I’m not crazy.”
    “I know. You’re hurting. There’s a big difference.”
    “Thank you.” He looked at her. “For believing in me. Even after everything.”
    “I always believe in you, Rocco.”
    He nodded. “Kit said I’m off duty for a while. Until Kimble says I’m fit. If you could use a laborer, I could use the work.”
    “You bet. Grab a rake and a shovel. I have a client coming over in an hour. I want to be finished cleaning the stalls before then.”
    “You need a hand with your client?”
    Mandy went still. This was the first time he’d ever offered to help. “Are you up to that?”
    He nodded. “I’m ready.” He caught her around the waist and looked into her eyes. “You got a bum deal with me, Em. I’m ready to work on what I have to do to be healthy—and to be the man you and Zavi and the new baby need me to be. Which is something I should have done a long time ago. I may need a full reset every now and then.” He sighed. “There are days when the best I may be able to do is follow you around in goddamned circles like some of your clients. I’m willing if you still are.”
    She got off the hay bale and took hold of his face. “Thank you for fighting for us.”
    “Thank you for fighting for me.” He brought her close for a kiss that he wasn’t in a hurry to end.  

    * * *

    The next morning, after his visit with Kimble, Rocco sat on one of the benches at Mandy’s memorial garden. The sound of the falling water was soothing. There was an odd silence inside him that let him hear the water. He couldn’t remember when his spirit had last been this peaceful. Not ever, maybe.  
    Mandy had been right to build this little garden. It was a pleasant place to think about things. He gave himself the freedom to do just that. Kimble had said it was important to bring up each memory, good or bad, joyous or painful, consider it, then let it go. He could wait and do that tomorrow when the shrink visited, but he was ready to do that now.
    Kadisha came to mind, unbidden as usual. He wondered what things would have been like if she hadn’t done what she had. If she and their baby had survived and come to the U.S. with him. Zavi had bonded so thoroughly with Mandy—that was at least one positive that had come out of all the tragedy.  
    Rocco knew he was going to have to accept the part he’d played in Kadisha’s death, and the way she chose to end her life…and that of all the villagers. Had she not done that, their baby would have been about a year old by now. He smiled, wondering if the baby would have been like Zavi, talking before she could walk.  
    Other memories came to mind as soon as his chokehold on them eased. Like the day that Kadisha had told him they were expecting their second child. She’d been so nervous, even though he’d been happy. He told himself at the time that it meant he could distance himself a little from Kadisha, but that wasn’t the truth. He was genuinely happy to have another child. He had to let himself accept that now.  
    He remembered how things had changed in the village after that. The women looked at him in odd ways, as if they knew his secret. Another memory flashed through his mind, about a conversation he’d overheard. The two women spoke far more freely than they would have had they known he was listening. But he was always listening. He was paid to listen, and sometimes women knew as much as their husbands about battle plans and