by K. Street
I told Zeke he could invite a friend or two from his class, and we’d have Brucey over. That plan went out the window when Kendall informed me if I didn’t have the parents’ contact information for the kids Zeke wanted to invite and I sent the invitations to school, we’d have to invite the entire class.
Lulled by the false assumption that only a few kids would show up, I’d invited the whole class. After all, Zeke’s birthday was the second week of December, and people would be preparing for the holidays, which meant they would have zero time to squeeze in a birthday party.
That false assumption was how I ended up here. In hell.
Fuck my life.
Carter and Kendall were out back with Mimi and Ben, supervising the gremlins. The last thing I needed was for one of those little shits to get catapulted out of the bounce structure, and land in a tree.
I came inside to gather more rations. Those kids were vultures. I now knew what that chick in the old Alfred Hitchcock movie must have experienced when all those birds swarmed her.
Relief flooded me when Presley arrived in the kitchen, carrying a bag of ice and more juice boxes.
“Thank God you’re here.”
“What can I do to help?”
Before I could answer, a streak of red flew into the house, attached itself to my leg, and tugged on my jeans.
“Excuse me, Mr. Zeke’s Daddy. I need to use the facilities.”
“The what?”
She put her hand to her face like she wanted to tell me a secret, only she didn’t whisper. “Lavatory. Potty. Toilet. Commode. Throne. Head. Urinal—”
“Whoa. Okay.”
I glanced from the girl to Presley, who stood there, still holding the bag of ice and the two cases of juice boxes, laughing her ass off.
“Really? You think this is funny?”
“Yes. Oh my God. You should see your face. And she’s like a mini Layla.”
Layla was Presley’s best friend, who I hadn’t met yet.
“Want to reel it in, Chuckles, and take the little thesaurus to the facilities?”
The small being tugged on my jeans again. “My name isn’t Thea-saurus. It’s Violet. And her name is Ms. G. She goes to my school.”
“Come on, Violet. I’ll show you where the bathroom is and wait for you outside the door,” Presley offered.
“Okay. Thanks.” Violet released my pants leg, and I took the ice and drinks from Presley. “Hey, Mr. Zeke’s Daddy, you might want to put that ice in the freezer. It’s crying all over your floor.”
“Thanks, Violet.”
I snickered to myself as they left the room. Violet was fucking adorable. The rest of them were still little shits.
With only a half hour left before parents started arriving to collect their spawn, it was time to cut the cake.
Kendall rounded up the kids, and Presley kept them entertained with some story she was making up on the fly. Mimi and Ben popped straws into juice boxes. Carter carried the cake out to the patio table while I grabbed the candles and a lighter.
Zeke sat in the birthday chair at the head of the table with a huge smile on his face.
I carefully pushed the number six candle into the Lego cake and lit it.
Mimi counted to three, and then we all sang “Happy Birthday.”
“All right, make a wish,” I reminded him.
Zeke squeezed his eyes shut.
A couple seconds later, he opened them and blew out his candle.
Zeke and Turtle were in Zeke’s room, playing with his birthday gifts, while Presley and I were alone in the kitchen. Everyone else had already gone home, and I vowed to never host another kids’ birthday party again.
“Next year, he’s having his party at the trampoline park. I’m too old for this shit.”
“Stop it. You are not.”
“I never really thought much about kids until Zeke came along. I figured kids were fine as long as they were someone else’s. But after today, no fucking way. I only like my kid and Brucey. That’s it. Other people’s children are soul-sucking leeches.”
“I don’t know, Mr. Zeke’s Daddy. Violet is cute as a button.”
“Fine. Violet was adorable. But the rest of them? Hard pass.” I finished wiping down the counter and tossed the rag into the sink. “Thank you for all your help today. It wouldn’t have happened without you.”
“You’re welcome.”
I huffed an exhausted sigh. “You know, when I was a kid, my mom made stuff like this seem effortless. I have a new appreciation for her. Until today, I had no idea how hard she’d worked to create memories for me.”
“And now, you’re doing it for Zeke. I think it’s wonderful.”
“I’m glad you’re here.”
She crossed the room and circled her arms around me. When our gazes locked, she said, “There’s no place I’d rather be.”
“Me neither. Except for maybe one.”
I kissed her, gentle at first, but two weeks had been too damn long. I plundered her mouth. Twisting my tongue with hers. I was seconds away from tearing her shirt off when Zeke interrupted us.
“My wish. It came true.”
Presley startled, and I cursed under my breath while putting a few inches between us without letting go.
My curiosity got the best of me. “What did you wish for?”
“That Presley could be part of our family again.”
A fist squeezed my heart. “That was really your wish?”
“Uh-huh. You was grumpy and sad. You drawed Presley in your book. And you looked at your phone like this.” He pushed his bottom lip out.
Awesome.
A six-year-old had just reduced me to the biggest pussy on the planet.
“Plus, I missed her,” he added.
I let go of Presley and reached for my little brother, lifting him into my arms. “You missed her, huh?”
“A whole bunch.”
Presley met my eyes over Zeke’s head.
“I missed her a whole bunch too,” I spoke the words to Zeke, but I kept my eyes trained on the woman I loved.
Zeke put his hands on my cheeks and forced my stare to him. “Maybe you should stop eating her face though. I think she cannot breathe when you do that.”
All I could do was laugh while Presley buried her flaming face in her hands and groaned.
“Ryder?”
“Yeah, bud?”
“I’m six now.”
“I know,” I assured him.
“Can I say shit?”
“No, you can’t. We’ve already been over this.”
“What if I promise to not feed my green beans to Turtle anymore?”
“Still no.”
“How about when I am seven?”
“Not a chance.”
His face fell. “Fine. How about I can get a goldfish?”
“I’ll think about it.”
He fist-pumped the air.
“How about you go put on your pajamas and we’ll watch a movie?”
“Presley too?”
I smiled at my woman. “What do you say, Pres? Want to stay?”
“I’d love to.”
“We can make a fort. And have popcorn. And hot chocolate with spanked cream and chocolate specks and sprinkles, like Mimi does.”
Spanked cream. What exactly is going on over at Silver Shores retirement community?
Presley and I were overtaken by a bout of uncontrollable laughter.
“Guys? What is so funny?”
“Kiddo,” Presley said, “it’s called whipped cream.”
He smacked himself in the forehead. “Silly me.”
“We can make a fort and have popcorn—”
“Don’t forget hot chocolate,” he interjected.
“And hot cocoa the way Mimi makes it, but only if you go get ready for bed.” I went to set him on his feet, but he tightened his hold.
“Not yet. We need a family hug,” Zeke declared. “Come on, Presley.”
Zeke and I opened our arm
s.
Presley slipped an arm around each of us, closing our circle and filling all the hollow places.
“I love you both so much,” she proclaimed.
I didn’t have to see her face to know she was crying.
Without missing a beat, my voice joined with Zeke’s, and together, we replied, “Love you bigger.”
Epilogue
Ryder - Six Months Later
A small crowd gathered on the grounds of the new children’s library. I only half-listened to the mayor as he droned on, clueless, as his constituents roasted in the hot summer sun.
My sweaty palms had absolutely nothing to do with the heat and everything to do with the precious piece of metal tucked in the front pocket of my jeans.
Familiar faces gathered on the other side of the ribbon from where I stood. Zeke and Brucey were sandwiched between Mimi and Presley. Ben stood next to Mimi, and Layla stood on Presley’s other side. Kendall and Carter were in charge of capturing the moment.
Work commitments kept Victoria and Thomas from being able to attend today’s unveiling, but Presley’s parents had been true to their word. They had e-counseling sessions with Presley twice a week and they were making progress in healing their relationship. Still, the road ahead of them was a long one.
The air filled with raucous cheers when the mayor finally cut the bright yellow ribbon with a pair of giant shears. Shutters clicked away, and a few local stations conducted on-camera interviews.
I headed straight for my girl.
Presley leaped into my arms, not giving a shit that people were staring. “I’m so proud of you, babe. Your art is exquisite. They’re all just so perfect.”
There were five sculptures in all. Four had been inspired by children’s literary works or characters. Aside from Mary, there was a nod to The Giving Tree; The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe; and Pippi Longstocking. The anchor piece was an enormous open book with child-size silhouettes forming a circle around it.
“Thanks.” I lowered her to her feet. “Come on. I want to take a few pics in front of the sculptures.”
She threaded her fingers with mine, and I led her over to Mary because while Pippi had played a role, Mary was where it’d all started. Our family and friends followed a few steps behind us.
When we came to a stop in front of the art, Presley released my hand to look beneath the umbrella.
That was the moment I slipped the ring out of my pocket, dropped to one knee, and reached for her hand.
She lifted her free hand to her mouth, pressing the tips of her fingers to her lips.
“Pres, before you, I never believed in fate. Now, I know there’s no other way to explain it. You make me smile every single day. I love how you ramble when you’re nervous. How your cheeks redden when you’re embarrassed. I love how you dance with inanimate objects when you think nobody is watching. I love your compassion. Your strength. Your heart. I love you with all that I am. Let me be your more for the rest of our lives.”
I nodded to Zeke, who ran over, clutching a folded T-shirt to his chest.
“Ready, bud?”
“Yep.” He counted to three.
Then, in unison, we popped the question.
“Presley, will you marry us?”
Tears streamed down her face, but when she read the shirt Zeke held up, she began to sob.
Across the front of the shirt read, Big Sister.
Most women would go for the ring first. Not my woman.
She dropped to her knees in front of me and Zeke, her eyes trained on him.
“Do you wanna be my big sister?” he asked.
“More than anything in the world.” She reached for the shirt and slipped it on over her head before focusing on me.
“Marry me, sweetheart.”
“Yes.”
I slipped the vintage ring on her finger. It fit like it had been made for her.
“Ryder, it’s stunning. I love it.”
I swallowed past the knot in my throat. “It was my mother’s.”
That only made her cry harder.
The three of us embraced beneath the shadow of Mary’s umbrella, and I just knew that, somewhere, my parents were smiling down on us.
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Acknowledgments
To God—The first portion.
Vi Keeland and Penelope Ward, thank you so much for giving me the opportunity to write in the wonderful world you have created.
Mr. Street, have I told you today how lucky you are to be married to me? Everyone knows I am the lucky one. Thank you for loving me and all my crazy. I will love you until I breathe my last breath, and even then, I’ll love you still. My cup runneth over. P.S. Still Arby’s. Stop arguing with me. You know I’m right.
Sunshine Girl, by the time this book is published, you will be starting college and we will have successfully raised a good human. I’m so damn proud of you. I am proud of who you are as a person and the quality of your character. Chase your dreams, baby girl. Beat them into submission. With all that I am, I believe in you. I love you, Baby Bear, to the moon and back again, plus all the stars in the sky.
Street Squad, thank you for being the best reader group in the history of the world. You all mean so much to me. I love sharing pieces of my life with you. Thank you for sticking with me, reading my words, and patiently waiting for every book. I am sorry this one took so long to write.
My ARC team, Street Elite, thank you so much for taking the time to read and write an honest review. Your passion hits me right in the feels.
Marni, I have no idea how I would have made it through the train wreck of 2020 without you. There are a million things I could say, but you already know. Your friendship is everything. I love you, M.
Crystal, you deserve all the happiness in the world. Thank you for your friendship and always being in my corner. Love you, lady.
Becca, thank you for all the things. You’re not only an amazing alpha reader but a genuine and generous human. I love your face.
Kelly, you are the friend I didn’t know I needed. I’m so thankful you’re part of my tribe.
Karin, thank you for being a true and trusted friend. You’re the best kind of human.
Jovana Shirley, you’re a wonderful human and a remarkable editor. J, I can’t imagine ever publishing a book without you. I’m so grateful for all you do for me. Thank you for taking my words and making them into something I can be proud of.
Juliana Cabrera of Jersey Girl Designs, thank you, this cover is amazing.
Judy Zweifel, thank you for being such an amazing proofreader. I appreciate you and your mad skills so much.
My betas—Becca, Crystal, and Kelly—thank you so much, and I appreciate your time more than you know.
The rest of the Quad Squad—Brittany, Hazel, and Marisol, thank you for your friendship. I’m so blessed to have you in my life. I love you girls. Thank you for being a sounding board, a safe space, a swift kick in the ass, a voice of reason, and a constant source of support. You ladies are the real deal and I’m blessed to call you my friends.
To all the bloggers, thank you so much for working tirelessly to support authors. Thank you for the endless hours you spend reading, writing reviews, running your blogs, and for promoting authors. Your hard work doesn’t go unnoticed. I see you. I appreciate you.
To my readers, you are a huge part of why I get to live my dream. When I started this journey, I had serious doubts anyone I didn’t share DNA with would read my words. Time is precious and I can’t thank you enough for giving up some of yours to get lost in a story I’ve written.
About the Author
&nbs
p; K. Street has been making up stories since she was old enough to talk and began writing at the tender age of eleven. She resides in central Florida with her husband and daughter, as well as a tiny menagerie of pets; including a dog, a cat, and a bearded dragon. K is a foodie with an affinity for coffee, peach Moscato, and dark chocolate. When she isn’t plotting her next story K enjoys reading, spending time with family and friends, chatting with her readers, and cheering on her favorite hockey team, the Chicago Blackhawks.
www.kstreetauthor.com
Reader Group: The Street Squad
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Also by K. Street
Stand-alone Novels
The Fall of Cinderella
Healing the Broken
Interconnected Series
Maplewood Falls
Where Forever Ends
Where Love Lives
Jaxson Cove
Everything I Never Wanted
Everything Worth Fighting For