by Harloe Rae
“It’s working so far.” I shrug, flicking imaginary lint off my shirt.
“Well, not for me.”
“Me either, Mama.” Millie pops out of seemingly nowhere. Was she hiding in a rack?
I blow some stray hair off my forehead. “Awesome, you two. Thanks for ganging up on me.”
Josey offers a lopsided smile. “It’s okay to miss him, Keke. Breakups are tough.”
“There was nothing to break up. He wasn’t my boyfriend. We weren’t dating. And I’m fine with that.” I find myself once again very thankful that I don’t have a Pinocchio tell.
“What kind of friend do you take me for?”
“The best?” When all else fails, try flattery.
“Well, that’s obvious. And because of that, I’m well aware that you’re lying. Which is fine, but not necessary or appreciated.”
I drape an arm over her shoulder. “Okay, I’m sorry. You’re right. There’s a pretty good chance my spirit is crushed. But I’ll rebound.”
“Was that so hard?”
“Extremely.”
Millie has been quietly watching us, waiting for an opportunity to pipe in. “I miss Ford, Mama.”
I flinch at his name coming from her mouth. We’ve managed to dodge addressing him personally. That small avoidance felt like a victory in our column. My soul cries out at the reminder, but I shush that susceptible piece of me. I kneel to Millie’s level, placing a kiss on her nose. “Well, I love you. Did you know that, sweetie?”
She scrunches her brows. “Love you, Mama. But is Ford going to call soon?”
The throbbing in my chest cracks me wide open, spilling all of that sensitive gibberish onto the flood. I press a palm to my sternum, attempting to trap the sentimental goo from escaping. The loss is too great, and my knees wobble in this crouched position. Falling onto my ass would be icing on the damn humble pie. I try to suck in my lips when the corners tremble. How could that stupid jerk do this to her?
I gulp at the thorns stabbing in my throat, brushing a thumb over Millie’s slightly chubby cheek. “I don’t think we’re going to hear from him anymore, baby girl. We talked about that, remember?”
She frowns. “But Ford can’t be on timeout forever. He’ll come hang out with us again. I know he won’t stay away too long.”
Another quiver attacks my lower lip. I rub at the sting expanding across the bridge of my nose. My vision clouds, a smoky film obscuring the exit route from this mess. How do I tell this innocent child that the man she idolizes doesn’t plan to see her ever again?
Josey must notice that I’m two seconds away from crumbling. She claps her hands and ushers us toward the door. “How about we go to Springing Swirls for some ice cream?”
Millie’s slouching shoulders perk upright. “Yay! Can I get extra sprinkles, Mama?”
“Of course, sweetie. Double the cherries, too.” Whatever gets her mind off the man who I’m not going to name, even in my thoughts.
She cuddles into my side as we stroll along the sidewalk. “Can we take Elsa for a walk this afternoon?”
I comb my fingers through her silky hair. The sunshine makes her golden strands shimmer and glow. “Absolutely. We just have to steer clear of the woods. Auntie JoJo is scared of monsters.”
My friend snorts, gaining the attention of a few older ladies passing us. She waves at them as if her obnoxious noises are a typical occurrence. In her case, they most certainly are. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound farfetched. I mean, that Boogie Man is terrifying. If only some mighty knight could rescue us.”
Millie gasps. “Ford could save us!”
I roll my eyes toward my so-called bestie. “Thanks a lot, Josephine.”
She scoffs again. “Put a little sparkle on that drab tone. There’s nothing wrong with a little hero worship. You’re the one trying to avoid him on purpose.”
“For good reason,” I grumble.
A jingle announces our arrival when Josey guides us into the sweet shop. “A heaping helping of sugar will boost your mood.”
“Fingers crossed.” The idea of eating turns my stomach with a somersault. My appetite has taken a serious blow since that incident with the culprit. Yeah, that’s a good attitude to have. I roll the knot from my neck and stride toward the counter to order.
We settle into a booth along the far wall. Millie attacks her banana split with gusto. Josey is licking her twist cone with overt enthusiasm. Porn stars would be jealous of her tongue-curling technique. Damn, how is she single? And why am I still watching? I blame my voyeurism on our table being too silent. The murmuring din from other patrons is irritating, like the tag on a shirt. I’m antsy and aggravated, and it’s all his fault. Heat builds behind my eyelids and the dam bursts beyond control.
I slam my untouched sundae onto the table. My spoon clatters against the ceramic edge. For a moment I worry the bowl will crack. “I gave him a hug. Like a real hug. And what did he do? Just toss us away.”
Josey places her hand over mine, which is currently gripping the table with white knuckles. “Okay, Keke. Let’s just take a breath.”
A growl rips up my clogging throat. “I don’t need air or more ice cream or sappy movies. I just want him to give Millie the goodbye she deserves. Then she can move on.” I give my daughter a watery smile.
She tilts her head at me in return. “But he’s coming back, Mama.”
I sniffle while wiping at my leaking eyes. “No, sweetie. He’s not.”
“Why are you saying that?”
“Because he told me. He didn’t want to hurt your feelings more, Mills. So, he just left instead.” Such a selfish, sniveling coward. I should’ve bit him harder when I had the chance.
My daughter looks down at her mostly devoured dessert. “Why would he do that?”
I hiss as the crack in her voice pierces the softest section of my heart. After a rough swallow, I reach for her hand with trembling fingers. “He’s the only one who knows the answer. Maybe he thinks that will protect you.”
“But it’s not. When Ford isn’t around, I’m not as happy. Isn’t he sad without us?”
I nod, forcing a crooked grin. “He’s probably very upset.”
“Then he probably misses us a lot. We should call him.”
“Absolutely not,” I blurt. After a much-needed pause, I exhale a stream of bitter juju. “I mean, he’s probably busy, and we don’t want to bother him. If we stay busy, things will get easier.”
Millie’s posture slumps with a thick sigh. “Okay, Mama. I’ll try to stop missing him.”
And I’m officially the worst mom ever. The fact I gave him a chance in the first place lands heavier than bricks on my shoulders. Regret shackles to my ankles and drags me lower. I blink the moisture from my lashes, giving her palm a squeeze for reassurance. “I’m so sorry, Millie. Please don’t let him steal your smile.”
“It’s not your fault, Mama. Ford hurt your heart, too.”
My little girl is wise beyond her years. “But it shouldn’t have happened to you.”
Josey lets a loud whistle loose. “All right, ladies. Enough of the wallowing. What’s next on the agenda?”
“I dunno. Maybe a nap?” I could sure use one.
She makes the sound of a buzzer. “Wrong answer. How about we go dancing?”
“No.” There’s no hesitation from me.
Her brows leap upward. “Why not?”
“First and most important of all, that’s not a public activity Millie should participate in until she’s at least twenty-five. And second, remember what happened last time?”
Josey smacks her lips together. “You satisfied the wild beast inside of you with crazy animal humping?”
Millie giggles at her inappropriate, albeit accurate, description. “You’re so silly, JoJo.”
She winks. “That’s why you keep me around, right?”
“Uh-huh. And you let me stay up way past my bedtime.”
Josey claps a palm over my daughter’s mouth. A dry laugh scrapes
out of her. “She’s totally joking. All that sugar is going straight to her head.”
I scowl at her weak derailing attempts. “It’s fine. Far better than your innuendos.”
“Oh, please. She’s seen it all at the zoo.”
“Yeah, Mama. The gorillas really love each other.” My daughter is vehemently bobbing her head.
A groan vibrates my ribcage. “Not sure why I even bother.”
Josey nudges me. “Darn, you’re worse off than I thought. Her response is freaking hilarious, Keke.”
“She’s seven, Joe. Why must I keep reminding you?” I glower at her.
“Millie is mature for her age.”
“Thanks to you.”
“It’s part of my auntie duty to prepare her for the real world.”
Millie giggles again. “You said doody.”
Josey flings an arm her way. “See? She gets it.”
I glance between, a weak bump of amusement jostling my shoulders. “At least your spirit isn’t tarnished, baby girl. If silly jokes make you happy, go right ahead. We could all use the comedic relief.”
“This is a team effort. We just need to stick by each other, like always. That’s why you moved to Silo Springs. Best decision ever.” My friend lifts her palm for a high-five.
Her gesture reminds me of the secret shake Millie shares with Crawford. Screw not saying his name. Ignoring him isn’t doing the trick—maybe overexposure is the way to go.
“Other than a few detours. I have Ford to thank for any ill feelings.” I let the edges of my lips curl.
“Eh, it wasn’t all bad. By next week, you’ll be able to look back on the better moments.”
“He‘s history, Josey. Ford chose to go. I’m not moping over him for another second.”
“Yeah, there you go. Don’t take any blame, Keke. You couldn’t predict he’d turn out to be a prickle bush.” Josey wags her brows, and I brace for whatever bomb she’s going to drop next. “So, dancing?”
“Why are you so desperate to shake your booty?”
“I think a better question would be why aren’t you?”
I peek over at Millie. She’s beaming at me, waiting for my verdict. “How about a compromise? We can bust all the moves in the privacy of my living room where there’s zero potential of anyone else seeing me.”
Josey stands from her chair and Millie leaps upright to follow suit. They exchange a smile, turning to me. “Do we get to choose the music?”
They earn a genuine laugh for that. “Sure. I won’t protest.”
The far younger of the two pumps her fist in the air. “All girls party at our house.”
Josey presses a finger over Millie’s mouth while trying to keep a straight face herself. “I wouldn’t say that too loud or we might get some uninvited guests.”
My daughter visibly shrinks when she realizes others might have heard her. “Let’s leave before they follow us.”
Josey is still on the verge of cackling. “Good plan, Mills. Lead the way.”
And I follow along with a legit pep in my step as the memories of Crawford stay behind.
Healing Hug #27: A warped hold for testing loyalty.
I lean into the sharp turn, slant my bike at a diagonal, and crank the throttle. A pulsing rush flows through my veins from the spike in adrenaline. I haven’t been able to reach that high lately. The engine howls as I demand more speed. That constant roaring grounds me, tethering my body to the moment. I’ve managed to slice twenty minutes off my commute to Gulligan Haven. That might be a new record.
Rows of houses frame the street on both sides, but there’s no one else on the road. This sleepy subdivision would be a perfect starting line for a drag race. I snort, the sound bouncing against my helmet. These rigid homeowners would call the cops faster than drivers could congregate. Hell, they barely tolerate me whizzing by on a bimonthly basis.
I whip into my mother’s driveway with a loud screech from gears grinding and the stench of burning rubber. There’s no reason to linger on the curb today. I already made one hell of an entrance into her neighborhood. A thick cloud of exhaust and reckless decisions form behind me as I dismount. Repairing the damage to my Harley will give me something to focus on later.
With a cyclone swirling in my gut, I bound toward the house. All appears normal until my boots nearly smash through her rickety porch stairs. I glance down to notice the boards giving way. A few spots on the railing could use a fresh coat of paint. Her lawn looks a week overdue for a mow. My mother’s friend must be preoccupied with other tasks. A shudder rolls through me while I raise my fist to knock. That’s trouble for another day.
My mom opens the door, takes one look at me, and smiles wide. “Who is she? No bullshitting this time.”
I smirk at her while stepping into the foyer. “What’re the chances we could exchange a few pleasantries before diving into my lack of a love life?”
“Zilch. And don’t pretend you’ve suddenly taken a liking to frivolous greetings.” She crosses her arms, giving me that stern expression I can’t contend with.
“All right, fine. Can we at least sit down while I face your interrogation?”
She rolls her eyes. “Just give me the highlights. That’ll appease me for now.”
I study her for a moment. “Because that’s not suspicious as fuck, Ma. Are you in a hurry?”
Her gaze skitters to a spot over my shoulder. “Not necessarily.”
“Did I catch you in the middle of something?” I follow her line of sight while trying not to assume the worst. Bile threatens to tickle my throat. If her fuck buddy is waiting naked upstairs, I might retch all over the carpet.
“Nope, everything is all good. A little sooner than we expected, but we’ve always been the impulsive sorts.” She scratches her scalp, still avoiding eye contact. “Tell me about your girl, Ford.”
“After I find out what you’re hiding from me.” My tone is sharp and demanding, leaving no room for argument. Not that she’s ever been one to listen.
“Okay, but I don’t want you to freak out. Promise me?” My mother holds up her palms. The placating gesture immediately rouses my guard with a deafening bellow.
Before I can agree to anything, a figure appears at the entrance to the kitchen. Recognition slams into me an instant later. I blink in rapid succession to be sure, but there’s no mistaking him. No fucking way. Deception poisons the air, squeezing the oxygen from my lungs. The stench is more powerful than turpentine and acrylic paint combined. I almost stumble backward onto my ass from the blow of betrayal.
“Fuck. No.” I jab a finger in his direction while glaring at the woman responsible for raising me. “Not happening. I’ve had it up to my ears with being ambushed. This is going too far. I never expected my own mother to stab me in the back.” I wrench open the front door, set to storm out the way I came in mere moments ago.
“Don’t go, Ford.” The authority in her melodic voice halts my hasty retreat. It seems even as an adult, I can’t disobey my mom. “Stay and hash shit out. Your brother is here to make peace.”
I target my focus on Grant, shooting the sharpest daggers in my arsenal. “You’re a damn traitor. And what the fuck? You’ve been lurking in the kitchen until I put my guard down?” I pin my mother with another glare. “How could you do this to me, Mom?”
Her lips twist to one side. “Well, to be fair, I didn’t know you were stopping by. But he’s your brother and my son, Ford. We’ll always be family. For that biological fact alone, you should hear him out.”
“This is complete bullshit,” I spit.
“I was wary at first, too. No one blames you for calling him out. He deserves some razzing, no doubt. But he’s here on good terms, Ford. Stow your rifle and give him a fighting chance.”
“I have nothing to say to you,” I growl in his general vicinity.
Grant shoves his hands deep into his front pockets. “That’s all right. I have enough to say for both of us.”
A snarl barrels out of me. �
��I can only imagine the messages our father sent along with you.”
My mom scowls. “Quit being dramatic, Crawford. Your dad has nothing to do with this.”
A stampede of elephants wreaks havoc on my eardrums. “I don’t think either of you has any right to tell me how to feel in this situation.”
Grant rubs a palm over his smooth jaw. “Do you want me to leave?”
“Yeah, you’re good at that.”
He spreads his arms out, opening himself up for attack. “Dammit, Ford. I know, okay? I fucked up, but that’s why I’m here.”
“Ten years too late.”
“Yeah, well, there isn’t a whole lot I can do to change that now. But I’m hoping to fix things between us. Can I have five minutes of your time?” My hesitation hangs heavy in the space between us. His throat bobs with a heavy gulp. “Please?”
“Fuck,” I groan. “Fine. I’ll listen to your sorry-ass excuses.”
His mouth twitches with a smirk. “Thanks. I’ll wait on the deck.”
Grant’s retreating footsteps echo down the hall to where I’m standing with my head ripped to the ceiling. My stomach is more knotted than a rope swing. Another moan slips past my pinching lips. “I can’t believe this shit is happening.”
My mom shuffles her feet beside me. “This is a great thing, Ford. You’ll see. Go outside and talk to your brother before assuming the worst.” A light laugh bounces through her. “I really should’ve gotten the dirt on your lady troubles before shit exploded.”
I scoff. “That’s your fault.”
She nudges my side. “Give me her name and I’ll leave you alone. At least until you’re done talking to Grant.”
“There’s no one anymore. I had been seeing a woman casually.” That word tastes worse than ash on my tongue.
“Who is she?
“Why does it matter? We have far bigger issues to solve.” Now that we’re broaching the subject of Keegan, I realize she hasn’t been plaguing my thoughts since Grant randomly appeared.
She pinches my cheeks as if I’m a toddler. I suppose the maturity level is comparable in certain respects. “I’m your mother and need to believe there’s a chance for grandchildren someday.”