Silver Brewer: The Silver Foxes of Blue Ridge

by L. B. Dunbar

  “Hey,” Giant says softly. “Shower.” It’s like he knows I need the solitude despite the tears, so I step out from under his arm.

  A half hour later, I feel like a new woman. I am a new woman, and my heart accelerates when I see Giant pacing my living room, rocking a baby, with SportsCenter on the television. He looks up at me with a grin, and I muster a smile although I silently curse Finn for sleeping. Little traitor.

  “Why don’t you dial up some dinner?” Giant teases, gazing back at Finn, and my heart swells at the image. Finn looks so natural in Giant’s arms, or is it Giant looks calm and collected with Finn tucked into him? Either way, it’s a reminder I want Giant in my life, in Finn’s life, but I don’t see how that will happen.

  Thinking of Giant’s request, I’m ready to retort this is why I didn’t marry. I’m not someone’s little woman, raising children and making meals. I’m an independent female. Then I see him nod to my phone on the coffee table, and I chuckle to myself. Oh, right. The little woman knows how to dial a phone for delivery, and I realize a second later, I might not mind a home-cooked meal with a man in my house.

  + + +

  After the warm shower and a hot meal, I’m drained of energy, but my anxiety gets the best of me as I prepare for a long night. I’ve read about this—colic—and I’m convinced Finn has it. It’s like a timer goes off in his little system at nine o’clock and for two hours, I’ll be pacing this living room trying everything to make him stop wailing.

  “You didn’t tell me why you’re here?” I ask, sitting next to Giant on the couch. Finn rests in the car seat at Giant’s feet. “I mean, I’m thrilled you are, but this is a surprise.” I hate to ask because I’m so grateful. I can’t do a heavy conversation with him, but I’m definitely stumped by the impromptu visit. His Thanksgiving plans involved being home with his family, and it’s only the day after the holiday.

  “My nephew asked his girlfriend to marry him.”

  “Jaxson, right?” The one who drove me to the brewery and was dating the very pregnant woman at the diner. I knew they’d had their baby. “A proposal prompted you…?” There’s still a question in my voice.

  “I’d just finished a discussion with my brothers.” He keeps his eyes on his plate. He finished each bite of his moo shu pork while I couldn’t finish my shrimp fried rice. “We were talking about you and me, and I was questioning where we were going, with Finn suddenly in your life, and then we walked into the living room, and Jaxson popped the question right there in front of everyone.” He pauses, rubbing his hands on his thighs.

  “And this inspired you to hop on a plane to come see me?” I’m flattered but concerned. “What are you wondering in regard to Finn?” Is the idea of a baby too much for him? I know he’s already raised children. Maybe he’s not interested in going through it again. Maybe the reality of my situation is catching up to him. Maybe he’s breaking up with me, which seems silly considering he bought a last-minute plane ticket on a holiday weekend to fly thousands of miles, but still…

  “It’s kind of a heavy topic with all you have going on.” He sheepishly glances at me and then away.

  “Just spit it out, Giant. Are we breaking up because of Finn?” My heart sinks to my stomach, and my shrimp fried rice wants to come back up. He shifts to face me.

  “Absolutely not.” His expression is serious.

  “What are you saying then?” I’m so confused, and I can’t process. I gaze down at Finn, who is making a squinty face.

  “I’m saying, I know it can be rough to be alone with a new baby. You don’t have much family support, and I can’t be here all the time. I’m worried about you.”

  “Well, don—”

  He holds up a hand to stop me. “I can’t predict the future, Letty. I don’t know where we’ll go next, but I don’t want to lose you. As for Finn…I’m just concerned. I’ve already been this route of long distance and babies. I don’t want you to be hurt.”

  My mouth falls open, and I glare. “Well, then don’t hurt me,” I snap.

  Giant stares back at me, and my skin prickles. I don’t know why I’m so on edge. You’re exhausted.

  “I still don’t understand what you’re saying. Just spit it out, Giant.” My tone remains irritated although I shouldn’t be barking at him.

  “I want you to move to Georgia in six months.”

  Well, that’s not what I thought he’d say.

  “Why?” The singular word is said a little too harshly and a little too direct as if the thought wasn’t ever a thought. I instantly want to reel it back in, especially when his face falls, and he looks down at Finn who’s fully winding up for his nightly bawl. Suddenly, I want to join the baby with a good cry. I’m messing everything up.

  “I guess…I thought…I don’t know.” Giant stands without finishing his thought and picks up our plates from my coffee table. My eyes follow his retreating back. I want to run after him. I want to tell him I didn’t mean it how it sounded. I just want to understand. Moving to Georgia? That’s a big step. I don’t know what I’d do for a living, or where I’d live, and any of these concerns are moot until I pass through the six-month timeframe of abandonment and post-adoption.

  “Giant, I—” As soon as I speak, Finn breaks into a wail, and Giant disappears down the hall for my kitchen.

  I glance over at Finn and sigh. This is so much harder than I thought it would be.

  What do you want? I scream in my head, not certain whom I’m directing my thoughts at.

  Men are so confusing, no matter what age.

  31

  Finnikin of the Rock

  [Giant]

  As I wash the plates and listen to Finn cry down the hall, I wonder what I’m doing here, and then I want to punch myself for bringing up the subject of moving. She’s overwhelmed, and a discussion about our relationship status and our future is not on her radar like it is mine.

  I want a plan.

  She wants peace and quiet.

  I let her deal with her son while I clean up her kitchen. I wash the baby bottles and take stock of her grocery needs. Then I go into Finn’s room and find a small pile of laundry. Taking it to the washing machine, I begin a load and notice another sitting in the dryer. I fold the tiny clothes, marveling at their small size.

  He’ll grow into a man, someday. He better appreciate his mama.

  I think of how she defended Finn from my first impression. I don’t care about his skin color, but she didn’t mention she was doing a trans-culture adoption—not that it matters. It doesn’t. I just didn’t know.

  I want to kiss her senseless for her big heart. She’s doing a good thing here, and I need to be on board if I want to keep her. Which I do. In fact, I want to keep both of them. From the second I saw him, I felt possessive of him. I want him to be the best of men, and he’s going to need a man to teach him how. Not that Letty won’t be a wonderful mother in her own right, but there are still things a man needs to teach a son. A son. Does she want a father figure for her boy? Would Letty ever take a husband? Would she let me be Finn’s father?

  The night wears on, and Letty grows frustrated, but she won’t let me help, and I feel helpless watching her. Eventually, she tells me to go to bed, and begrudgingly, I do as sitting on her couch watching her pace seems to upset her more. After another hour of crying, though, I get up and demand she give Finn to me. He settles within minutes, and I set him in his bassinet in her room.

  “I hate you,” she whispers, swiping at her eyes as I crawl in behind her. She doesn’t mean it, and I know it.

  “Why?” I press a kiss to her shoulder.

  “You did that so easily. I’m terrible at this.”

  “He’s just frustrated and more so as you grow frustrated. He can’t calm down when you can’t, and you’re tired.” I’m trying to be sensitive because I know if I say the wrong words, she’ll snap.

  She’s quiet for a moment, and I think she’s falling asleep, but then she speaks. “I’m sorry about earlier. I di
dn’t mean what I said, but you did sort of surprise me.”

  “I shouldn’t have brought it up,” I begin, but she shifts to look at me over her shoulder.

  “I can’t come visit you, and it isn’t fair to have you only visit me. I don’t know how this will work for us, but I’m so grateful you’re here now.” I lean forward and briefly kiss her.

  “I’ve gone nearly eight months without seeing my family in person, and that’s not going to happen to us. I can handle six months.”

  “Still—” She interrupts, but I interrupt her right back.

  “I want to be here for you. I promised myself if it ever happened again, I’d be available for the whole thing. I’m sorry it won’t be that way. I can’t leave the brewery behind, but I’ll be here as often as I can.

  “I’d never ask you to do this,” she tells me. “As far as moving—”

  “Cricket, can you forget I mentioned it? Let that brain rest a little bit. Get some sleep, okay, and we can talk about all this another day.”

  “I love you,” she mutters, her voice falling quieter as I stroke up and down her back. Those words are all I need from her as a sign of commitment, a sign we’ll figure it out.

  “I love you, too.”

  + + +

  “I miss you,” she whispers through the phone after telling me Finn fell asleep on her shoulder.

  It’s mid-January. Eight weeks down. We haven’t spoken again about her moving to Georgia or what the end of six months will entail. I’m gun-shy to mention it, so I bide my time and fly to her every few weeks. This is an off weekend, so I’m home and we’re doing our nightly phone call.

  “I miss you, too. I miss Finn.” He’s so much more than I thought he’d be. I didn’t think I’d want to start over again at almost fifty, and I’m actually a little surprised at the encouragement from both Billy and Charlie to take on fatherhood again. I haven’t mentioned the baby to my parents yet, using the excuse Letty’s too busy with work to travel to Georgia.

  She still worries the mother will show up and want to stake her claim on Finn. I send up a silent prayer each day that doesn’t happen. Letty’s a good mother despite her fears or maybe because of them. She wants a good future for the little guy, and so do I.

  I never considered boy versus girl. It isn’t an either/or; I just wanted healthy children, but I’m feeling this connection with Finn I can’t explain. Maybe it’s because I wasn’t there for my girls as infants. Maybe it’s because I have practice at being a dad. Whatever it is, I love the kid as though he’s mine. I want him to be mine. Letty makes no hints about marriage or moving in or sharing Finn, though, and I won’t ask for fear it will result in another disagreement. We seem to be on shaky ground despite the constant communication and the occasional visits. Our lovemaking has become less enthusiastic than our first meetings because she’s exhausted. I feel her slipping from me, but I’m not ready to release her.

  “How’s the writing coming?” The last time I was there, she was scribbling notes in a notepad. When I asked her what she was doing, she said just jotting down ideas. I snuck a peek while she fixed a bottle for Finn.

  “Are you writing a book?” I asked.

  “Just playing around.”

  “Tell me,” I demanded. I wanted to know what she was thinking, especially since she hinted this was something she wanted when she was younger.

  “I just can’t get Sam Calder and his Annie out of my head. Or the town. It’s like an unsolved mystery. The place. Their love. Did she come for the pickle jar? Did she get his message, whatever it was? It’s a great story.” She shrugged nonchalantly, but I don’t want her to blow it off.

  “You should write this. Make it your own or call him and get more details.” She smiled half-heartedly and handed me the bottle. I liked feeding Finn. I liked holding him close, and when she fell next to me on the couch, leaning her head on my shoulder, I liked how it felt to be connected. Each of us touching as though we’re a family.

  “I thought up a few more ideas, but it’s hard to concentrate with a lack of sleep. I’m learning to type while holding Finn.”

  I hate her struggles. I hate how alone she sounds. I want to be there for her. I want her here with me.

  “I can’t wait to read it.”

  “It’s going to be embarrassing.”

  “Why?”

  “Because you might recognize some scenes, Mr. Lumbersexual.”

  I chuckle, lying back on my bed. If I close my eyes, I can feel her next to me, pressing against me.

  “You know I’m always limber for you.”

  “I miss sex,” she whispers, and my dick twitches.

  “Mmm…me too.” My hand slips into my pants to straighten my growing length.

  “I hate how I’m not in the mood.” And I release myself from my pants. “Mommy-itis, I guess. Feeling a little not so pretty and desirable.”

  “You’re desirable, darlin’. Very desirable.”

  I hear her shuffle through the phone. “Hang on,” she whispers, and I assume she’s setting Finn down in his crib. Then I hear a door close.

  “How desirable am I?” she teases, and a smile curls my lips.

  “Want me to talk you through it?”

  “Yes, please. Guide me.” This has become our code for leading her to touch herself like I did the first night we were together in the tent.

  “Take off your shirt.” I hear the phone shift and know she does as I command. “And stroke over your nipples.” I slip my hand back into my pants, tugging at myself. “Show me.”

  I hear her gasp through the phone. “Giant?”

  “Let’s get on FaceTime. Lower the phone.” We’ve been playing with the visual more and more. She shows me Finn and his progression, and it’s amazing when Finn recognizes me and my voice through the video. She hangs up, and I send the FaceTime connection. When the visual pops up, it’s her finger swirling around her breast.

  “Fuck, that’s hot,” I groan, squeezing myself.

  “Show me how hot,” she hums, and I lower the phone, giving her a view as well. It’s naughty and dirty, and I can’t help myself. I’d never dream of doing something like this, showing off my dick while I get off, but I hear her purring through the line, and I want to give her anything she wants. “Watching you touch yourself makes me so wet.”

  She holds nothing back, angling her phone to show me her fingers dipping lower, and it’s better than porn. This is live action, and while I want to be with her, this is the next best thing. Her sounds. The sight of her fingers disappearing into her pants.

  “Take them off,” I choke, stroking over myself as the tightness grows. She shimmies her yoga pants to her hips and then her fingers disappear between her thighs. She hums, and my eyes close a beat, imagining my fingers entering her. Imagining her sitting on my dick. Imagining her mouth on me.

  “Cricket,” I groan. So close. Her breath hitches.

  “I’m close,” she whimpers, her fingers moving as the phone jiggles.

  “Fuck,” I hiss as hot streams pour out of me, coating my hand. She’s watching me from her vantage point, and she swears as well as her fingers still, and she rocks her hips. Damn, she’s hot. “I miss you so much,” I cry out, wanting to touch her, feel her, surround her.

  “Me too,” she whispers, coming down from the high. “It’s never enough.”

  Never enough. I don’t want to be alone. I don’t want her to be alone.

  “Soon, right?” It’s the first hint I give. We only have a few more months, and then we’ll talk. Then we’ll figure it out. We just need to wait a little longer.

  + + +

  Letty applied for Family Medical Leave Absence, asking for the full three months despite the fact she didn’t give birth to her son. Her uncle was an ass about it, but human resources warned him he had to honor her rights. HR happens to be her mother. Score one point—finally—in the mom category.

  Due to a snowstorm in Chicago, I miss a weekend at the end of January and can’t r
eschedule until the middle of February. Around Valentine’s Day, she’s sick with a cold, and Finn seems to be teething. She’s miserable when I’m there, and I feel helpless. We don’t make love, and while it’s not the be all and end all, I miss our physical connection.

  As we near the end of February, her three-month mark quickly approaches.

  I’m just not ready to leave him. That’s silly, right? Women go back to work all the time after having babies, and I didn’t even have him, technically. I just…I don’t want to leave him with someone other than me, she tells me one night. I don’t have any answers for her.

  Come to Georgia. Marry me. Stay home to raise him. These are my thoughts.

  “You look miserable,” my father says to me as he walks into my office. I sigh and scrub a hand down my face. I’ve just gotten off the phone with Letty. “What’s going on?”

  My parents know that Letty and I have a long-distance relationship. I’ve let them believe it’s because of work issues, which is partly true.

  “Dad, I have something to tell you.” Like a child of thirteen when I broke his fishing pole, the one Pap gave him as a kid, I feel sick. Thankfully, my father’s calm reserve back then dismissed the situation as an accident. I might have left out how James and I were playing lightsabers with it, but still. This is so much bigger than a fishing pole accident.

  “Letty has a baby.”

  “Is it yours?” I can’t tell if my father is hopeful or concerned, but I quickly explain how Letty was in the adoption process before I met her. I also explain how I’m struggling to find my place in her life with the distance and the new little man.

  We’re dating, but are we more? I want us to be more, but I don’t want to pressure her. She’s under so much stress already, and after her reaction to my suggestion she move to Georgia, I don’t have the heart or stomach to bring it up again. I don’t mention this part to my father.