The Path To Us: A Single Parent Romance

by Jennifer Van Wyk

  “I don’t understand. I mean, they did. Mom said she added that chocolate hazelnut spread in the fudge this time. But you’re not allergic to anything.”

  Shaking my head, I explain, “I discovered I have an allergy to hazelnuts. You know that chocolate hazelnut spread that your mom used? I had some a few years ago for the first time and this happened. It was the first time I’d ever realized I had an allergy to hazelnuts.”

  “Why didn’t I know this?”

  “I never told anyone.”

  “Fuck, Addy. You could have died. Do you realize how scared I was? It almost killed you because we didn’t know.” Realization dawns and he sits back, resting his forearms on his knees. “I can’t believe I didn’t know this.”

  “I’m sorry. I should have told you.”

  “Nothing to be sorry for, baby. I’m just glad I was here. Fuck, Addy, what if I wasn’t here?”

  “But you were and I’m okay. I’m okay.”

  He holds me tight before allowing me to relax in his arms. “Wait. I didn’t even see you eat one.”

  “I had two,” I admit sheepishly. “After I brought out the pizza box. They were delicious and I noticed there was something a little different than typical but I didn’t know why.”

  He stands up and helps me do the same, holding my hands. He hugs me tightly then moves us so we’re lying down on the bed next to each other. He wraps his arms around me and I lay my head on his chest while he rubs my back. “Holy shit. I’ve never been so terrified in my life. For real, Addy. I need you to promise me that you’ll never do that to me again.”

  “Promise.” I slide my hand over his waist and nestle in even though it’s not as if I can promise such a thing. Chris is proof that no one knows what’s in our future.

  We hold each other for a while. He seems to need that confirmation that I’m here and I’m healthy. And most importantly, I’m okay.

  And when I fall asleep, it’s with his arms wrapped around me.

  I only wish I’d woken up the same way.

  Chapter Ten

  Beau

  “It’s perfect.”

  Richard Noosma stands in the barn with a proud but sad smile aimed at me and I look around a little more, relishing in the distinct smell of poo that lingers. Strange that it’s comforting. The smell of shit normally isn’t. But it isn’t offensive or overpowering. Maybe that’s because Richard hasn’t had animals on this farm beside cats and dogs in almost five years, from what he tells me.

  This morning I woke up once again in Addy’s guest bedroom after leaving her a few hours after she fell asleep and I had made sure that she was healthy and through the reaction. I was scared out of my mind and didn’t want to leave her, but I also wasn’t sure what she was ready for and definitely didn’t want to make anything worse for her.

  She doesn’t know what I was set off to do today, we simply parted ways when she was ready to go pick up Zoey from Mom and Dad’s.

  Simply parted might not be the right wording. It was more awkwardly parting ways as I resisted giving her a kiss goodbye and she laughed uncomfortably. We got into our vehicles barely looking at one another. It’s never been weird between us and I hate it. It’s time to get us back to normal. I hate the idea of living the rest of my life being only Zoey’s uncle and Addy’s friend, but that’s the way it’s going to have to be.

  It’s either a lifetime of me skating around the fact that I want her with every cell in my body, or moving forward knowing that I can’t risk our friendship. Whatever awkwardness that happened this morning was because of the way I was behaving last night. Getting too close. Touching too often. Being too intimate. Crossing lines.

  Richard’s voice brings me out of my thoughts. “I hoped you’d think so. So, you’ll take it?”

  I look around once more and rub the stubble on my chin. “You’re sure you want to sell? It’s your family home, after all.”

  “I can’t stay here much longer. My health just can’t handle it, you know? My son, he doesn’t want it. What good would it do him, living in Seattle, you know? He wouldn’t be happy here. And I’m ready to move on.”

  One more look around and I find myself nodding. “If you’re sure, if you promise me you’ve spoken to him first, then yes, I’ll take it.”

  He blows out a breath and adjusts the cap that’s resting on his head. The one that looks like it’s been with him for decades. Beneath the cap, his hair is gray and thin. The lines on his face show the years spent working in the sun. His pale blue eyes show nothing but kindness.

  “He knows. He approves. I only ask one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Keep this house a home.”

  I’m not entirely sure what he means by that but I agree anyway. “Of course.”

  He gives me a little half smile. “You don’t understand, do you?”

  I laugh. “No. I assume if I live here, it’ll be my home.”

  “You don’t understand yet, but you will.”

  “Sounds ominous.”

  He winks a bright blue eye at me. “Well, then. If you’re gonna buy this place and kick me out of my home,” he jokes, smiling at me, “I’d say we have some phone calls to make.” Richard slaps me on the back and we cross the yard to go into the house as I laugh at his joke. He looks at me over his shoulder and gives me a little nod in the direction of the house.

  My footsteps falter as I take it in. My new home. One I wouldn’t be able to afford if my other house didn’t already have a sale pending. The front porch alone on the house that stands before me is worth the hefty mortgage. It’s the perfect place to sit with a cup of coffee.

  The old farmhouse isn’t what I pictured myself in when I was younger, but now I can’t imagine living anywhere else. Location? Yes. Absolutely. But I assumed I’d be in something new like the house I’m selling now, not a house that’s a century old. But then again, I’m learning that what I once saw for myself when I was younger, is no longer what I want.

  We spend the next hour going over numbers and signing papers that wouldn’t hold up in court because they’re handwritten by Richard himself, but we made a gentleman’s agreement and there’s trust between us. Until everything is finalized and official? It’s enough for me. And for Richard, it seems. There’s an auction house that will sell off most of his belongings for the farm as well as the household items he won’t be able to fit in the duplex he purchased. Aside from the few pieces of equipment that we agreed upon including in the buying price, he’s getting rid of most of his things.

  Standing next to my pickup, he looks to the house and back to me. Before I open the driver’s door, he stops me with a hand on my arm. “Bring her here. That’s how you’ll make it a home.”

  “What? Who?”

  “You heard me.”

  “Now you’re talking in riddles, old man,” I joke and the corner of his mouth ticks up. “Just say what you mean.”

  “I did. Now it’s for you to figure out the rest.”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll do that. Talk to you next week to close?”

  “Yes. I hired a moving company, too. They’ll be here end of the week so it’ll be cleared out for you. Auction’s the following weekend. Once that’s done, it’s all yours.”

  “You were so certain I was going to want the house, that you made all these arrangements already, huh?”

  He shrugs a shoulder. “Just a hunch.”

  I chuckle. “See you next week,” I tell him, climbing inside my truck.

  He taps the hood twice before turning and walking away. I watch as he retreats back into his house, wondering how he’s handling this so seemingly well. I don’t think I’d part with something that’s been in my family for over a hundred years quite as easily as he is. Especially to someone who’s not related to me. But he seems happy, eager, even to make the move.

  As I’m pulling out of the driveway, I look at the house in my rearview mirror and hate that I’m leaving it behind. I can’t believe I just made a gentlem
an’s agreement to purchase a house that’s meant for a family of at least six people. But something came over me and I couldn’t resist signing on the dotted line, so to speak.

  I’m not sure why he contacted me about purchasing his house, and I’m certain he’ll never share that with me seeing as he seems to love having me figure things out for myself. Whatever the reason, I’m grateful.

  Chapter Eleven

  Addy

  “I bought a house today.”

  “Come again?” I ask, my head jerking up from looking into the dishwasher as I load it with our supper dishes and a detergent pod.

  “I bought a…”

  “No, I heard you. I just… what?” I stand up and close the dishwasher door shut and start it up. “You bought a house today? Who does that?”

  He grins. “Lots of people. I mean, that’s kind of how the real estate business works.” He bites down on a baby carrot and crunches away.

  “We just had a huge meal! Why are you eating?” I made Zoey’s favorite spaghetti and mini meatballs and she made sure that Beau joined us for supper, even going as far as to call him and demand he come over since she missed him last night. After we ate, she took a bath and fell asleep reading books with Beau shortly after. “How are you still hungry?”

  “I thought we established this already. I’m a growing boy.”

  I roll my eyes and throw a dish towel at his face, which he deflects and catches easily. “Oh, whatever. So tell me about this house you bought on a whim.”

  “It wasn’t on a whim,” he says, digging another carrot out of the bag and munching on it. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, as you know. My other house has a sale pending and I’m pretty certain that it’ll go through. Grant and I have been working already on setting up some jobs here before the end of the summer so he wants me back and ready to work.”

  “Which one did you buy? Was it the green one with the awful kitchen?” That’s my best guess because while the kitchen was truly terrible, with an outdated well, everything, the rest of the house was pretty great. It seemed as though where the owners didn’t spend a dime on updating the kitchen, they went all out in the rest of the house.

  “No. You didn’t see this one yet.”

  My jaw drops. That can only mean one thing… “Don’t tell me.”

  He waggles his eyebrows up and down, excitement radiating off him. “Don’t tell you what?”

  “The Noosma house?” I guess.

  “That’d be the one.” He looks so proud of himself as he keeps eating those carrots, with no idea that I’m fighting against my feelings of jealousy and sadness.

  “Wow.”

  “I think you’ll love it. I’m looking forward to you seeing it.”

  “Mm hmm,” I hum.

  He’s practically bouncing as he enthuses, “I’m so excited for Zoey to see it. She’ll love it out there. No other homes around, all sorts of space to run.”

  “With those donkeys.”

  “That’s right. Milly and Billy.”

  “You’ve named your make-believe donkeys?”

  “Of course I have! Do you think I’ll leave the naming up to Zoey? After Macaroni was named?” Beau points to Macaroni on the floor who, bless him, lifts his head and looks at us, tail thumping against the tile floor like he’s been summoned and will receive a treat soon just because he knows his name. “She’d probably end up naming one of them cheese or booger or some shit like that.”

  A very unladylike laugh escapes my throat when I think of Zoey naming a donkey — or any animal — booger. “And Milly and Billy is what you came up with?”

  He shrugs. “They sound like donkey names to me,” he says. I don’t agree with him, even though he’s right. They sound like the perfect name for donkeys. I can picture Zoey running out there begging to show Milly and Billy some love. Feeding them apples or whatever it is that donkeys like.

  I cross my arms and jut out a hip. “So what other animals are you going to learn to raise?”

  Beau rubs his hands together and smiles. “See? It’s fun to imagine, right? What else? A huge garden, probably? There’s a lot of space and Richard already has a space for a garden. A bunch of dogs, obviously. Probably some cats. Isn’t that normal? To have barn cats to keep the rodents down? Maybe a fleet of rabbits?”

  “A fleet? I am absolutely positive that’s not what it’s called.”

  “It isn’t, but it sounded funny. And I don’t actually want rabbits. I’m not sure what they’re really good for because it’s not like I’m gonna eat a rabbit or milk it or some shit like that. But maybe some chickens, goats, a few cows. We talked about this.”

  “Yeah, we did, but I thought you were joking.”

  “I kind of was, but I went out to the house today and it got me thinking. Besides, Richard, that’s Mr. Noosma, he said he’d love to see animals out there again and offered to help.”

  I swallow hard at the idea of Richard and Beau working side by side. Richard knows my feelings toward Beau so it makes me wonder if he’s plotting something.

  “Well, that sounds like fun.”

  “It should be. I think you’d like him. I’ll make sure to introduce you.”

  “Sure.”

  His eyebrows furrow in confusion. He opens his mouth, likely to ask me why I’m being short about it, but Zoey’s soft voice interrupts us. “Beau?”

  With one last look at me, he bends low, crouching down so he’s eye level with Zoey. He lifts a hand and brushes the hair out of her face. “What are you doing out of bed, Squirt?”

  “You left.”

  “I didn’t leave, honey. I was just out here in the kitchen.”

  Her chin quivers and she lifts her stuffed donkey close to her cheek, rubbing the soft fabric against her skin, something she does when she’s needing comfort. “I woketed up and you weren’t there.”

  I had hoped she was getting through this fear of abandonment but it seems that we aren’t quite there yet. I’ve wondered if being so close to Beau is a good thing for her, as whenever we spend time with him, she seems to almost regress. If he’s around when she falls asleep, he’d better be there when she wakes up or the floodgates open.

  “Remember what we’ve talked about? Uncle Beau has a different home.”

  “But Daddy had a different home, too.”

  Oh.

  Understanding dawns for me but Beau looks at me curiously when she launches her little body into his arms. He doesn’t realize that she overheard Max and Peter saying something about Chris dying in his house.

  He runs a soothing hand up and down her back and she settles into his lap, wrapping her arms around him with her little donkey smooshed between them. I don’t know if he knows what to say to her, but it looks like she only needs his comfort. To know that he’s there and… alive. Oh, damn shit hell. They didn’t cover this in the parenting books I read when I was pregnant with her. How to heal her broken heart. How to help her understand why her father is never coming back.

  I sit down beside them, my eyes meeting Beau’s over Zoey’s head. His are filled with tears, either from sadness or anger, I don’t know. But the hard set in his jaw tells me anger. At who, I’m not sure. Though, I’d gather the anger isn’t necessarily directed at a who, rather than at his niece’s heartache.

  He whispers to her assurances that he’s here and not going anywhere, even though he’d planned on going to his parents’ house to sleep tonight. It’s obvious that he’d do anything for Zoey, though.

  After several minutes, Zoey’s breathing evens out and her body seems to go limp in Beau’s arms.

  “Here, I’ll take her.”

  He shakes his head. “No. I’ve got her.”

  In a swift move I’d never in a million years be able to manage, he stands with Zoey in his arms. He walks her to her bedroom and I follow as he lays her down and I move to cover her.

  We quietly make our way to the living room and he drops down onto the couch and I sit next to him, my body angled to
ward him and my legs tucked under my butt.

  “What did she mean?”

  I don’t have to ask him what he’s talking about because I understand.

  “She overheard your brother and dad talking. They don’t know she heard, and I don’t want them to because I know they’d feel terrible. She asked me later that night when we were here at home. It was wildly mature of her and shocked me. She said, ‘Mommy, did Daddy die at his house?’ and I almost fainted.”

  “Shit. How did you respond?”

  “With the truth. I explained that we didn’t know — that nobody knew — he was sick, even him, and that he went to sleep and didn’t wake up. I’m afraid I made things worse and that it was the wrong thing to say. She’s been afraid of the people she loves falling asleep ever since.”

  “You think that’s why she’s so scared every time I leave.” He isn’t asking, he’s already come to the realization.

  “I’m sure of it,” I admit, my face downturned and eyes focused on my fingers threaded together. When he makes a grunting noise, I lift my head and take him in. He looks exhausted. So weary and tired. The same as I feel. He mentioned that I was losing weight and looked tired — and as hard as it was to hear, he’s right. I barely manage a few hours of sleep at night, constantly getting woken up by nightmares of how I’m going to fail as a mother, or worse, seeing Chris watching Beau and I together, a tear trickling down his face as Beau kisses me. My love for Beau never has and never will go away, but the fact is, in a sense, I was Chris’s first. He loved me in the way I’ve always longed to be loved by Beau and pursuing anything with Beau now that Chris is gone just feels wrong.

  He lays his head against the back of the couch, his face turned up to the ceiling. I watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “She’s focusing on what she can in a world where very few things make sense to her anymore.”

  “They don’t make sense to me, either.”

  “Yeah.” He blindly reaches over and grips my hand in his larger one. He yawns and his eyes flutter closed.