by Mj Fields
“They love you, Dad,” I interrupt his rant.
“Love me? They don’t even know me, and it sure as hell isn’t because I don’t want them to.” He walks toward the elevator, shoves his feet in his boots, grabs his coat, and then looks back at us. “Get your shit. We’re building a fucking snowman right out there on that...brick whatever the hell it is. It’s Christmastime, and we...we are building a fucking snowman.”
Logan looks like he is about to explode. He’s pissed at Dad. No, he’s pissed at me.
I laugh. “What? I’m not the one pushing Christmas down your throat.”
“You’re the reason he’s going over-fucking-board this year.”
I am shocked, hurt. No, I am pissed.
I try to make light of the situation. “It’s a snowman, Logan.”
“No, Ava, it’s not a snowman. Go on Google Earth and type in his address. Swear to fuck, you can see all them damn lights from space without zooming in. The nativity scene has grown—those barns are almost life-size—and I’m telling you, if he asks me one more time to do the living nativity scene during the town’s Christmas celebration, I am going to snap.”
I can’t help chuckling.
“It’s gonna be a good time,” Dad says, narrowing his eyes at Logan.
“There is no way I am gonna stand there, dressed like a shepherd in front of the entire town. Do you know how embarrassing that would be?”
Dad smirks. “Piper’s gonna be an angel.”
“Piper is three.” Logan rolls his eyes. “I build this snowman, you gonna back off the nativity nonsense?”
“Deal,” Dad says. “Now, let’s go.”
***
We stand at the window, looking out at the snowman as we drink the hot cocoa Logan made, which took longer to make than it took to build that one little, pathetic snowman.
“It’s nice, right?” Dad asks, smiling
Logan and I look at each other, and without second thought, we bust up laughing. We laugh so hard my stomach hurts. We laugh so hard that, even though he started out being annoyed, Dad is now laughing, too.
“Pathetic,” I admit, wiping away tears, ones caused by laughter, and God they feel good.
“Well...” Dad begins.
“Well?” Logan asks, wiping his tears.
“Well, we built a fucking snowman. The kids will see it. Maybe, with Photoshop, you can make something that looks like a damn Christmas card out of it.” He shakes his head. “Then I’m gonna kick the shit out of that ugly-ass thing.”
We all laugh. Then Dad pulls us into a group hug.
“You have to come home, Ava. They deserve a Link’s Christmas, and I need you there to help me torment your brother.”
“Okay,” I surrender.
“Wait, what?” he gasps.
“Okay, Dad, we’ll be there.”
I am caught up in the excitement that is my father’s love for Christmas and family. I am caught up in the hope that they, my children, will be able to get as much joy out of his enthusiasm. And I am caught up in the hope that they won’t be affected by my...not mistake; they are not a mistake. They are love. They are home. They are my miracles.
“They’re my Christmas miracles, Daddy.”
“That they are, Ava.” He smiles and takes in a deep breath as if it’s the first he has taken in a year.
“Dad, I need to tell you something,” I whisper as tears well up in my eyes. “And I’m so sorry—”
“No sorrys, Ava. There is no need to apologize for your Christmas miracles.”
“Chance,” I sigh out.
“I know, Ava, I know.”
***
I sit in bed, looking at my phone. Luke never messaged back, and no, he doesn’t have to, and I should not be sending him this text, but I want to.
I told Dad and Logan about Chance. I told them he is yours.
I cried when I told my dad, and my daddy held me, and it felt good.
I stare at the phone forever. There is no reply.
He’s angry at me. For what?
I lie down and look up at the ceiling, wanting to ask God if I did the right thing, and ask him to explain to T why I made this decision. I can’t hide them. I won’t. And even though I’m pretty sure I sent Luke away, and he’s running again, I can do this on my own.
I hold on to the fact that he’s not one to break a promise, but I will not lie to myself anymore, and I will not make up fairy tales in my head about who or what we are.
The truth is, he is Chance’s father. The truth is, no one will be a fiercer protector of Chance than Luke Lane. The truth is, I’m kind of a snoop, and I listened to him talking to Chance in the nursery the morning he left, and I heard him talk to Hope. They say the truth will set you free. I already feel a little freer.
I believe that he loves them. I believe that he will always be there for them. I believe in him. I believe that, for some reason, Luke Lane will forever be part of my life. But I am no longer a naive little girl. I am a woman, a mother. I have lived more in the past year than some live in twenty. I have lost the first man who ever loved me and wanted me for me.
I know I will never be loved that way again. I find comfort in that. Thomas Hardy’s and my love is a forever love. No other love will erase it, and if he’s the last man who ever says those words to me, I will die a happy woman. Why? Because I am a mother and childhood notions are gone.
Those babies are my life and my loves. My hopes, chances, and dreams all lie with theirs, and I wouldn’t change it for the world.
***
The next day is a little bit the same. The babies are clingy, and yes, I love it. Dad and Logan are here, and for the first time in eleven months, I am here with them.
Me, Ava Links.
The house is messy, Logan and Dad are loud and foolish, but they are my family, and I have missed them so much.
We take pictures with that damn abomination of the snowman, and the kids, my babies, let Dad hold them long enough that we get a picture where they aren’t wearing boo-boo faces while looking at me.
When they are down for a nap, and Dad and Logan are out doing...I don’t know what, I upload the pictures and, for the first time, post them on social media. And yes, I tag my father, their grand...person.
Fifty likes in ten minutes. I laugh as I sit there, posting picture after picture of my children from birth to now, not taken by me, but from everyone who held them, everyone who loves them.
I tag Dad and Mom, and Logan, and Tessa, and Harper and Maddox, and Liam, and Lexington, and London, and Piper, and Brody, and Emma. I even tag Jade and Ryan in a picture of the gifts they sent. And I cry while doing it. I feel scared, nervous, and so many other emotions, but all of them are laced with love and happiness. Then I put away my computer because I want to stop myself from the need to hide them, to protect them from the naysayers.
When Dad and Logan walk in, they are carrying groceries and Toys “R” Us bags. I smile at them, because my children are theirs, too.
“Ava, you feeling more social today?” Logan asks with a chuckle.
“What?”
“Logan...” Dad warns then looks at me, beaming.
I know he’s seen the posts. For him, I am happy as can be.
I start to text Luke again but stop myself. If he hasn’t returned my texts, he’s an asshole. However, he’s an asshole who helped me realize, in just a week’s time, that I can do this. I can love out loud and be free of the ties that, not only I allowed to bind me, but hell, I tied those knots myself.
As I hold Chance and Dad holds Hope, I ask, “Dad?”
“Princess?”
“Um, will you message Jade and ask how Luke is without her knowing I want to know?”
He laughs and shakes his head. “I suppose, but why not text him yourself?” He narrows his eyes at me. “Or I could. He and I need to have a chat.”
I can’t tell him he’s been here—that’s between Luke and I—so I simply say, “Please, Daddy.”
&n
bsp; He nods, just like I knew he would, and then he gets up and puts Hope down.
I follow suit and put Chance in his crib, kiss them both, and then follow him out.
“Hey, Jade, how are you?” Dad asks, and I mouth, “Speaker.”
He rolls his eyes, but he does it.
“I’m good. Holy shit! I saw the pictures of those babies. Lucas, there is no way he’s not—”
“How is Luke?” he interrupts.
“Great question. I’ve called him for two days straight, and he’s not answering. That’s not like him. Well, not since the accident, anyway, so I’m a little worried.”
My chest tightens. I feel like I could burst.
“When’s the last time you heard from him?”
“Four days ago, Lucas, and that’s just not okay.”
Unable to shut my mouth because I am worried about him, Luke, my...my son’s father, I spout out, “He was here.”
“What? Is that Ava?” Jade asks.
“He was here, and you didn’t tell me?” Dad asks, shocked.
“He was here, and I told him he had to leave before you got here. I just didn’t...I just—”
“Was he okay?” Jade asks.
“Yes, he was, but he didn’t say good-bye. I think he is pissed at me.”
Jade is quiet, Dad is anxious, and I am freaking out.
“Do you know anyone you can call?” Dad asks Jade.
“My son has been missing for three days; I’m going to call everyone I can. In the meantime, Ryan and I will be on our way.”
“He’s fine. I know he is,” I tell her.
She clears her throat. “Ava, I love you, you know this, but he better be fine, or I am going to turn that city upside down.”
“Easy, Jade,” Dad warns.
“Lucas, this is my son we’re talking about; don’t easy, Jade me.”
“Dad?” I say when he hangs up on Jade.
“You’ll be fine. He’ll be fine.”
I nod, and he hugs me.
Within five hours, Jade, Ryan, Tessa, Lauren, Jackson, and Riley are in my loft. The babies are sleeping, and I am sitting on the couch, pretending to be asleep because I don’t want to face them.
Ryan talks Jade out of calling the police until morning. Part of me agrees, and part of me doesn’t. Meanwhile, Dad, Logan, Jackson, and Ryan decide to take a drive, which is almost ridiculous since the city is huge; there is no way to just find someone out there.
Panic races through me. I wonder if he fell again, or if someone hit him.
I stand up, walk into the babies’ room, and shut the door behind me. I look at them sleeping, having no idea what to do to make sure that they don’t lose him, too. Then I look at the mural. I look at the cloud I imagine T is sitting on, and I let him see my worry. I let him see my worry and know that, if he loved me, and I know he did, he would be okay with it. What man wouldn’t want a man like Luke in his child’s life if he couldn’t be here?
I look above him and see the sun, and I realize that T...T died, and it was horrible and awful, but all of his dreams came true. His belly was full, he had love that would never end, and he had a family. He died, and he’s not coming back, but Luke, he lived through something he should not have.
I do the only thing I can think of that I can do right now. I lower myself to my knees and look above the cloud T sits on, above the sun that is all of his wishes and dreams that came true, and I close my eyes.
“Please, please, please, please, let him be okay. Please, God, they need him. I need him. Please don’t punish him for my anger, for my...hate. Please let him be okay.”
I stand up when the door opens and turn around.
Tessa and Jade are standing in the doorway, both with tears rolling down their cheeks. Jade holds her hand out to me and, shaking my head, I hold mine out to her. She swallows hard as she walks toward me.
Hand in hand, we stand between the cribs, her lower lip trembling. Then I nod once toward Chance, and she looks at him, stares at him. She releases my hand and covers her mouth, silently sobbing.
I hate myself for keeping him from them, but I know she understands, just like Dad did. They stepped away, for me.
Tessa stands behind Jade, holding her shoulders, and pulls her back to her. They hug as they both look at Chance Thomas.
I look over to find Hope is awake, staring toward the door. I reach in to pick her up when I hear a voice.
“Let me.”
I freeze and look up. “Where the hell have you been?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
He won’t cheat again. - C. PA
LUKE
“Shh...Jesus, Ava,” I scold, trying to quiet her.
“No, don’t you hush me,” she says a little softer, but not by much.
“Hey, Hope,” I say softly as I walk out of the nursery with her in my arms.
She smiles and the pacifier falls out of her mouth, which makes me laugh.
“Hey, what do you have there?” I ask, seeing a little white chicklet-looking thing sticking out of her gums. “Feels better now, huh?”
“Luke Lane, where...?” Ava stops when I sit down.
“Sit for a minute, blue eyes?” I pat the seat next to me, and her face turns bright red.
I don’t know if she’s stunned or in shock, but she sits, and she’s quiet, which is...nice.
Mom walks out of the room holding my son so tightly that I’m afraid she may crush him. And the waterworks that are coming out of his eyes...Well, I’m afraid they may drown him. I know I’m overreacting, and I know it won’t mean shit to her if I asked her to let him go. There is no chance of that happening.
“Mom, I see you’ve met your grandson.”
“I’m never letting him go,” Mom declares as she sits down on the couch, and I see Ava visibly stiffen.
I lean in toward Ava and whisper, “She’s not being literal.”
“God, I will not make you feel like I did, Ava,” Mom sobs. “I will never.” Mom is referring to the fact that my father’s parents put her through hell by trying to get custody of me after I was born. A fact I only recently learned.
Ryan sits beside her on the arm of the couch and kisses the top of her head, just staring at Chance.
“Dad,” I say, feeling a bit emotional. “Meet your grandson, Chance. Both of you, meet Hope. She’s pretty damn amazing.”
“And she’s his?” Lauren whispers.
I nod. “Well, I guess so, but I kind of see her as ours.”
Lauren comes over and sits on the other side of me. “May I?”
“Just...” Ava starts with a quiver in her voice. Then she shrugs. “They’ve been a little—”
“Clingy,” Lucas pipes in. “They love their mom. They’ll get used to the rest of us. Especially now that they’ll be home for Christmas.”
I look over at Ava, and she shrugs. “The Brooklyn snowmen suck.”
I have no idea what she’s talking about, but I nod. “Okay, then.”
The kids are tired, I’m exhausted, Ava is a ball of nerves and emotions, but not one damn person in this room is looking at her, judging her as harshly as she is judging herself. That’s what fucks people up the most—worrying about what others think about them. It wreaks havoc on them, and then trickles down to everyone around them.
After awhile, I put Hope back in her bed, Ava right beside me.
She kisses her head. “I love you, butterfly.”
“And you know how I feel.” I kiss her in the same spot Ava did.
Mom and Ryan walk in and put my boy down, smiling at me as they leave the room. Then I watch as Ava walks over and sits on the bed she sleeps in every night, except the two I got lucky enough to have her with me.
“What?” she whispers while I stare at her.
“Nothing. You need sleep.”
She looks down, eyes narrowing, playing with her hands.
“What’s on your mind?” I ask.
She shakes her head.
“Ava, what is it?�
�
“You didn’t answer your texts. You didn’t, and you were gone.”
“First of all, you told me to get lost. And second, I lost my phone.”
She rolls her eyes, and I can’t help smiling at her.
“Whatever. Goodnight, Luke. I’m glad you’re okay.”
It dawns on me that she was worried. For three days, she was worried. Same girl who made me park off the street because she was afraid I would get hit by a fucking car was worried, and that is my fault.
The tiniest part of me gets pleasure in that thought, while the rest of me feels like shit.
When Trigger and I found Samuel Leighton, he lied to us. He lied and told us that bitch Casey was a lying whore. It wasn’t until he was dangling over the Hudson with a gun to his head that he confessed.
I got it all on tape, on my phone. I showed him his confession as I held him upside down, and he swatted it out of my hand. That’s why I have no fucking phone. It’s probably at the bottom of the river right now.
I let Trigger hold his ass, and I was ready to blow his fucking brains out, when Trigger talked me down. I wasn’t happy about it, but I know Ava wouldn’t be all that pleased if I killed a man because of my love for her.
Luckily, Trigger has it on tape, too. He also has the name of Samuel’s five baby mommas and their seven children. As big a piece of shit as he is, he didn’t like them being threatened.
When we took him to the cop shop to confess, we waited for Casey to walk out before letting him out of the vehicle to go in. She made her statement first, gave him up, and got her hand slapped. Fucking bitch should have gotten more than he got. She knew while sucking off Ava’s kindness for too fucking long.
Never again.
As tired as I am, I can’t sleep, so I head to the kitchen and open the fridge, seeing someone bought beer.
“Thank fuck,” I say, grabbing one.
I walk out onto the balcony and see Dad and Lucas standing there. I don’t want to face Lucas alone, not yet. I immediately want to turn around and walk the fuck back inside, but I need to man up. This shit is going to happen sooner than later.
They both turn around and look at me, both have a beer in hand, and Dad smiles. Lucas...he nods.
Fuck.