by Tara Sivec
This man that I gave my whole heart to when I was thirteen years old is standing here in front of me with a smile on his face, making me feel like what I do for my son isn’t good enough, just like Kevin. And I know. I know in my head they aren’t anywhere near the same, but I can’t tell my heart that when it feels like it’s being cut apart slowly, piece by piece. Right when I thought I had a backbone, it crumbles like dust as every jab Kevin has ever made at me flashes through my head.
“Public school? Wow, way to care about our son’s education by not sending him to private.”
“Do you even care how embarrassing it must be for him to never have designer clothing? Oh, that’s right. You can’t afford it.”
“You know all you have to do is ask, and I’ll pay for that expensive bat he needs. Come on, Wren, let me hear you beg for it. How much is our son worth to you?”
“So is this what the funhouse was all about?” I ask, swiping angrily at my tears that are falling fast down my cheeks as Shepherd looks at me in complete confusion. “Keeping me distracted so I wouldn’t question that text Owen sent me when we got in there? Well done. It definitely worked. No one can say you aren’t dedicated to the cause.”
“Whoa, what the fuck?” Shepherd asks, closing the distance and wrapping his hands around my arms when I’m suddenly just so fucking tired I don’t even care about moving away from him. “I don’t know what’s happening right now, but what happened in the funhouse has absolutely nothing to do with Owen’s text. Baby, what’s wrong? This is a good thing! Why are you crying?”
“I never thought in a million years you would ever make me feel like what I do isn’t good enough for my son.”
Shepherd’s head jerks back like I just punched him, and his hands drop from my arms and hang limply at his sides. And the nightmare that has haunted me since Owen was born comes crashing back in bright, vivid technicolor. The one where Kevin returns and he suddenly wants our son, and cares about our son, and he can give him more, and do more, and be more than I ever could, and in the blink of an eye, he’s taking him away from me, making him happier, and giving him everything I never could.
“Wren, I never—”
“Don’t,” I cut Shepherd off with a shake of my head, choking on every word that comes out of my mouth when just minutes ago I was getting ready to tell him I love him, and Jesus, does that make it even harder to breathe. “He’s my son. Mine. You don’t get to just come in here and flash your money and your fame and make all his dreams come true without talking to me first! I have spent his entire life being made to feel like I’m a piece of shit, because I can’t give him everything he has ever wanted in life, and I am not about to stand here and let you make me feel this way too.”
“How can you even say something like that, after everything….” Shepherd’s raspy, pain-filled voice trails off, and I can’t do this anymore. I don’t care if my words hurt him, because his actions cut deeper.
Grabbing my phone out of his hand down by his side, I continue wiping the tears off my cheeks as I walk around him. Shepherd brokenly whispers my name again as he quickly reaches out and grabs my arm, but I don’t even look back at him as I shake it off and keep walking.
“I can’t do this with you right now,” I say as I hear him walking behind me. “Please don’t follow me. I need to go home alone, to be with my son.”
CHAPTER 19
Shepherd
“Put me in, Coach.”
“You done fucked up, bro.”
I throw the next dart even harder at the board hanging on the wall, and Bodhi lets out an annoyed huff from right next to it when the dart smacks against the metal wire separating the sections and drops to the ground.
“That’s the tenth dart you’ve broken the tip off of tonight,” he complains, bending over to pick up the broken pieces from the ground and tossing them into the trashcan next to him. “If you break another one, Ed won’t let us play with his toys anymore.”
“It’s fine. I’ll just buy him more fucking darts by flashing all of my goddamn money around,” I snap, whipping another dart at the board. This time, it gets wedged so deeply into the clapboard wall next to it that Ed might need to use the claw end of a hammer to pull it out.
When I reach for another dart from the pile on the high-top table next to me inside Dockside Eddy’s, Palmer quickly reaches out from his barstool across the table and swipes them all out of my reach.
“No more sharp objects for you.” When I narrow my eyes and growl at him, Palmer just laughs at me. “Sit your ass down, hotshot. I’m not afraid of your bark, when you were sitting here crying into your beer when we got here.”
“Fuck off,” I mutter, slamming my ass down on the barstool and finishing off the last warm, disgusting swallow of beer in my glass before smacking it back down.
Yes, I was sniffling back fucking tears when he and Bodhi decided to show up here to give me shit when I didn’t fucking invite them. I just want to be left alone, because I’m pissed.
And sad. And hurt, goddammit. I can’t believe after everything that’s happened between us and everything I’ve said to Wren that she would honestly think I was anything like that piece of shit Kevin. It rocked me right to my core when she accused me of making her feel like what she did wasn’t good enough, and it fucking hurt that she thought so little of me when I thought she was my entire universe, and I was just trying to do something nice.
“Listen, man, you overstepped, and you’re just gonna have to suck it up and deal with it.” Bodhi shrugs as he takes a seat at his stool.
“Are you fucking kidding me right now? All I did was something thoughtful for Owen. Something nice. I didn’t do it to be an asshole flashing my money around, and I definitely didn’t deserve the shit she said to me,” I remind him, getting angrier by the second the more I replay the words Wren said to me last night, and everything I was forced to tell Bodhi and Palmer when they got here and wouldn’t leave me alone until I spit it out.
I thought for sure when I looked up from my beer a few hours ago and saw them standing next to my table that they’d gotten an earful from their women and they were here to kick my ass. I was positive there had been a Sip and Bitch last night after Wren walked away from me that had lasted well into the night and maybe even possibly was still happening. Color me surprised when they were completely clueless about what was wrong, Birdie and Tess hadn’t even spoken to Wren since the festival yesterday, and Ed was the one to call them and tell them to come up here, because he was afraid I might start flipping tables.
I have no idea why in the hell she didn’t tell them. Why she didn’t complain all night long about what a douchebag I am, just like fucking Kevin Stratford. And that’s what keeps putting a chink in the armor of pissed off I’ve surrounded myself with. And that’s what keeps making me feel like the douchebag Kevin is that I haven’t gone to her and made her talk to me, but I’m too hurt this time.
“You didn’t deserve being compared to Kevin; I’ll give you that. But you definitely deserved to get your ass handed to you.” Bodhi nods.
Palmer and Bodhi have kept their mouths shut and let me bitch for the last two hours while I broke half of Ed’s darts, but clearly they’re finished keeping them shut.
“You wanna tell me how I fucked up too?” I ask Palmer with a humorless snort.
“Don’t look at me.” Palmer shakes his head as he grabs his bottle of beer. “I fucked up with Birdie, and I still don’t know why she forgave me. Looks like Bodhi really is the voice of reason.”
“Right on.” Bodhi nods again with an easy smile as Jimmy Buffett starts playing from the sound system.
I usually love nothing better than coming to Dockside Eddy’s to relax at the best fresh seafood and oyster bar in the world. With its low-key vibe right on the dock of the permanent resident end of the island and nautical artifacts hanging on the mismatched clapboard walls, it’s always a great place to hang out and chill. But nothing can make me feel chill at this moment in tim
e, not even Jimmy Buffett and the view of the sun setting out over the ocean through the windowless walls that lead out to the deck.
“Look, I know you don’t want to hear this, man,” Bodhi continues, resting his arms on the table and leaning closer to me. “But you did overstep just a little. I know you love Owen and you want the best for him; we all do. But Wren is his mom. You made a really big decision about him without her, and you set up a video conference that she didn’t even know about, with a man she’s never met and knows nothing about, at a college on the other side of the country.”
Fuck. I did do that. But it’s just because California has one of the best college ball programs around, and it doesn’t change the fact that she still accused me of throwing my money around just to make her feel like shit, and that’s not cool.
“And honestly, dude. I don’t even think it’s about the money. Not really.” Bodhi shrugs, reading my mind as he starts chewing on the end of the straw left over from his Shirley Temple. “You need to put yourself in Wren’s shoes for just a minute here and think with your head instead of your anger. She has had Owen all to herself his entire life, and now, suddenly, she has to share him. It’s scary for her, and she probably feels like she’s losing him already because he’s growing up so fast, and then you get him a college scout, reminding her he is growing up fast and he’ll be leaving soon, and yeah. That’s a tough pill for someone like Wren to swallow, whose entire life has revolved around that kid and his happiness. You’ve got fifteen years of history to compete with and fifteen years of Wren being the only real parent in Owen’s life. And I know it’s not a competition, but I’m just saying, ease up a little on the anger and give her a break. Let her get used to the fact that they aren’t alone anymore and she doesn’t have to do everything on her own any longer.”
Son of a bitch.
“You’re not Kevin Stratford.” Bodhi laughs. And then throws his head back and laughs some more until he finally gets it out of his system. “And Wren knows you’re not him, man. I’m pretty sure if you would have sat her down and given her a heads up about this instead of surprising the shit out of her and making her feel like she was losing control, she would have been totally cool. Probably not ship Owen to California cool, but I don’t think she would have minded him just having a conversation with the guy and gotten some advice. Come on, this is Wren we’re talking about. It was a shock, and that poor woman probably still has PTSD from Kevin, so I’m sure all sorts of fun things he’s said to her over the years about how she could never afford to make Owen’s life better were running through her head when you guys sprung that on her.”
That one glass of beer I’ve been nursing for hours starts bubbling and churning in my stomach, making me feel sick. Why didn’t I use my fucking head? My only excuse is that I’m new at this, and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing. Bodhi’s right. I love Owen, and I just want the best for him, and I never meant to make Wren feel like what she’s given him isn’t. All I’ve wanted my entire adult life is a family I could spoil and give the world to, and now that I have it, I didn’t even think. I just charged full speed ahead without even considering Wren’s past or how it would make her feel.
“The good news is there wasn’t a Sip and Bitch scheduled last night,” Palmer reassures me. “I would put money on the fact that Wren didn’t bitch to the girls, because as soon as she got home, she felt like shit for what she said to you.”
And there it is, the reason why I kept feeling some kind of way, because Wren didn’t complain about me to her sister and Tess. Sip and Bitch is in their blood. They’ve been doing it since they were kids to complain about everyone who has ever pissed them off or hurt them. It just feels and sounds so much like Wren that I know he’s probably right. My sweet, amazing woman with a heart of pure fucking gold, who never wants to do anything to make someone mad at her, would definitely regret the things she said to me as soon as she walked away and really thought about everything that happened, and how I’d rather fucking die than ever make her feel like she’s not good enough. And I’ve done nothing but sit around being pissed off, waiting for her to come to me, because I felt like the wronged one here.
Jesus Christ, I suck.
“For fuck’s sake does no one answer their goddamn phones?”
All of us look up from the table to see Murphy standing next to it, looking even more pissed off than I’ve felt for the last twenty hours and fifteen minutes.
“Mine’s dead.” Bodhi shrugs.
“I left mine out in my cart,” Palmer adds.
Flipping over my phone I left face down on the table on vibrate, I see two texts from Murphy and five missed calls, one of the texts nothing but a video attachment.
“Well, while you three yentas were sitting around discussing your monthly visitor, Kevin the Dickfuck has been here being his usual dickfucky self,” Murphy mutters, making my blood run cold and my entire body get tight with rage. “He already went to the athletic director and tried to cause a big fuss, saying it’s not appropriate Owen’s mother is sleeping with the coach.”
I stand up from my stool so fast it goes flying backward and topples over onto the floor.
“Calm down, son. We’re gonna handle this,” Murphy warns me, stepping forward to press a firm hand on my shoulder. “You need to look at that video first so you’ll know everything we’re dealing with.”
Even though all I want to do is race out of here and find Wren and Owen and make sure they’re okay, I grab my phone from the table, pull up Murphy’s text, and jab my finger on the video to bring it up.
Palmer and Bodhi get off their stools and crowd around me to watch a cell phone video that looks like a bunch of kids recorded from the backyard of a cottage behind Dip and Twist. Even though the video was taken at night, I can clearly see the brick building behind them, even with the lights all off and the place dark, thanks to the security light shining down from a pole in the parking lot.
“Sharon Worsham’s grandkid is the one recording the video,” Murphy explains while the video pauses for a few seconds because of the shitty island Wi-Fi. “He didn’t show it to anyone right away, because he was out doing something he wasn’t supposed to after curfew with his friends and he didn’t want to get in trouble.”
“Are they doing the cinnamon challenge?” Bodhi asks excitedly. “Oh man, it’s so fucking funny when they start coughing and looking like dragons snorting brown smoke out of their noses. Rrraaawwwrrr!”
“I don’t know what the hell those idiots are doing. Just pay attention to what’s happening behind them,” Murphy orders.
The video is less than a minute long, and Palmer is the first one to speak when it finishes. I’m too afraid to open my mouth, or I’ll let out the guttural roar building up inside me and scare the hell out of everyone in here.
“That motherfucker is the one who trashed the Dip and Twist,” he mutters from over my shoulder.
As clear as could be, even though it was taken well after midnight, not far behind the teenagers eating spoonsful of cinnamon and choking and laughing their asses off is none other than Kevin fucking Stratford breaking the deadbolt off of the backdoor of the Dip and Twist with a hammer and then waltzing right inside like he owns the place.
“I guess when he got wind that you and Wren are dating and that you’re playing a huge role in Owen’s life, it pissed that little weasel right off,” Murphy explains. “He seems to think he can prove Wren is an unfit mother by trashing the shop and complaining about her all over town.”
“Where the fuck is he?” I growl as I shake Murphy’s hand off my shoulder, turn, and start stalking toward the front door.
“No one’s seen him since he left the AD’s office.” Murphy hustles after me with Palmer and Bodhi quickly following. “He could be anywhere at—”
My phone vibrates in my hand, and I stop right in front of the door to look down at it, my heart dropping right down to my feet. If I wasn’t currently thinking about all the ways I plan on fucking
up Kevin Stratford, I’d probably fall right to my knees and cry like a baby.
Love of My Life: I’m sorry. I’m SO sorry. I didn’t mean anything I said, and I was just scared and stupid and being ridiculous. He’s here. I need you, Shepherd. Please. I’m so sorry.
Yep, if I wasn’t currently thinking about all the ways I’m going to ruin Kevin Stratford’s life, I wouldn’t even be able to start walking again and put one foot in front of the other to get me the hell out of here and get me to my woman. Because even though Wren is probably still scared and hurt by the line I crossed that I never meant to, she’s the strongest goddamn woman I know. Because even through all her confusion and pain, she can suck it all up and let me know when she needs me. And doesn’t that just make me feel like an even bigger dick for staying away from her and not being able to suck up my own issues? I never should have let her walk away from me last night. I should have made her talk to me and gotten to the real root of the problem like a mature adult instead of a toddler who got his feelings hurt.
“I’ll call Tess and tell her to bring the lighter fluid and blow torch,” Bodhi chirps as I slam my hand against the front screen door, and it flies open to smack against the outside of the building.
“I’ll call Birdie and tell her to bring… well, Birdie. She’s been wanting to kick Kevin in the balls for years,” Palmer announces.
“Who are you calling?” Murphy asks as I bring my phone up to my ear, and he climbs right into the front seat of my golf cart with me.
Even though Wren has always thought this is her fight, and I told her I would never step in unless she asked me, I still did my own digging on the asshole who fathered Owen right after I talked to the guys that morning at The Barge. Wren is finally making the call to the bullpen and bringing me into the game, and I’m not going to screw it up. I know exactly what I need to do to end this bullshit once and for all so she and Owen can finally have some peace.