Of Stone and Sky

by Charissa Stastny

  “How’s it going with Altin’s guardianship?” Gramps asked, moving his queen toward my knight.

  “Court’s moving slow. Poor Saemira’s dying.” The State of Michigan seemed in no hurry to make a decision. My wife was usually optimistic, but on the matter of her brother, she couldn’t believe that the state would be merciful and grant her guardianship. She kept waiting for something bad to happen.

  “She’ll get custody,” Gramps said. “Tell her not to stress. It’s not good for her health. If cancer has taught me anything, it’s not to worry so much.”

  I soaked in his wisdom. “Got any more advice?”

  He pursed his lips. “Be grateful for each new day. Treat it like it’s your last. You’ll never regret doing that.”

  I moved my knight away from his queen, and he swiftly moved a pawn on the other side of the board. I swore when I realized he’d cornered my second rook.

  He winked. “Love more. Judge less. Make connections with others.”

  “I’d like to connect with that damned queen of yours,” I muttered.

  He chuckled. So did I. Though I would surely lose again, I savored our time together. Each night, he sprinkled wisdom in with his brutal chess moves.

  We began discussing my pet projects at EcoCore. He loved the EcoWalker most. I had a love-hate relationship with it since we’d had several setbacks.

  “You know, son,” he said, when I had only two more pawns left on the board. “EcoCore is definitely an achievement to be proud of. Your inventions have changed lives for the better. But don’t forget at the end of the day that it doesn’t matter what your stock is worth if you’ve neglected your family. When you’re my age, you won’t care a damn about your company. But you will care about Saemira. You’ll care lots about your children and their children. Make them your top priority now so they’re still there when you’re older.”

  Gramps put me out of my misery and called the game.

  I hugged him. “Thank you.”

  “For whipping your butt?”

  “No. I’ll kick your trash tomorrow, just you wait. Thank you for always putting me first. You’ve always been there for me, and I’ve never really thanked you or told you how much that meant to me. You never stopped believing in me, even in the face of evidence against me.”

  “You’re a good kid, Lincoln. Now pass the love on to your wife and future children to repay me.” He squeezed my shoulder.

  “I’ll do my best. At least, better than my chess game,” I teased.

  71

  Saemira

  The turkey looked divine—a beautiful, smoky golden-brown. I couldn’t help but squeal and do a little victory dance. Lucy laughed when I pulled her into my celebration.

  “We did it!” My first Thanksgiving meal for the books.

  “You did it,” Lucy said, hugging me.

  “You know that’s not true, Mom.” She loved when I called her that, so I tried to sprinkle the title in a few times when we were together.

  She grinned. “Our guests will love it.”

  “They’d better.” I untied my apron and set it on the counter. We’d spent almost five hours slaving away in the kitchen. If anyone complained—or rather, if William, AKA Dad or Jerkface, as I often called him under my breath, complained—I’d toss him out on his backside.

  My gaze traveled across the expanse of the delicious-smelling kitchen. The renovation of Lincoln’s house had taken longer than planned, but that had worked out best for Gramps, since we didn’t want to move him by the end when he was declining. We’d moved in two weeks after his funeral in September.

  Gramps had been gone for over two months now. I still missed him every day. Lincoln really missed him. Gramps had been more of a father to him than his own had been. For that reason, he struggled with bitterness that his dad was alive while Gramps wasn’t. I didn’t blame him. William was a killjoy who seemed to wear foggy spectacles that gave him a gloomy view of the world and everyone in it. Especially family. He’d learned to hold his tongue around me because I had no qualms about calling him out and demanding apologies. Lincoln had almost come to blows with him about some of his mean remarks. Made me love him more. Not that I wanted my husband and father-in-law to fight, but I didn’t mind that Lincoln was willing to defend my honor.

  We’d been married for six months. Lincoln was a doting husband, a fantastic father to Altin, and a caring son—at least, as much as he was allowed to be. Lucy ate up every crumb of kindness he threw at her, and I’d encouraged him to give her meals of the affection she craved since she got nothing from her deadbeat husband.

  Lincoln stepped into the room, my brother on his back. “How’s it going in here, my angels?”

  Lucy giggled, slurping up his cheese.

  “We’re almost ready, my missing Link,” I said.

  He winked at me. “I’ll gather everyone.” He disappeared again.

  Lucy and I put a few last touches on our spread, and Lincoln soon had all our guests situated at the table. He was in charge of the next part since I’d never participated in an American Thanksgiving before. Baba had splurged on a turkey dinner at a buffet once, before he’d met Rosie. That was the limit of my experience.

  I looked around the table at family and friends. Lincoln’s parents, Angel and Altin, and the Wilders. Eight of us. The table looked like Downton Abbey, with the fancy china and silverware and crystal goblets Lucy had insisted we use from our wedding. I felt like Cinderella again, except surrounded by people who loved me—excluding my wicked dad-in-law, who wasn’t really wicked as much he was irritable, racist, and moody.

  Lincoln tapped his goblet with a knife. “Thank you all for coming to Saemira’s and my first Thanksgiving together. We hope to have many more of these in the future.”

  “Hear, hear,” I said, tapping my glass. Why should he get to have all the fun?

  Lucy gave me an adoring smile, and I wanted to run around the table to hug her. Though William was a challenge, I adored my new mom. Lucy was the best, a fairy godmother of sorts. She would totally dress me up in a fancy ball gown if I asked, but thankfully, she knew my tastes better now and didn’t push for that.

  “Before we say grace and start loading our plates,” Lincoln said, draping an arm over my shoulders, “I thought we’d go around the table and say what we’re thankful for.”

  William scowled, but stayed quiet. I was grateful for that.

  “I’ll start,” Lincoln said. “I’m grateful for the time I had this year with Gramps.”

  His father’s scowl became more sour, if that was possible. Now I wanted to walk around the table to smack him. Couldn’t he ever be happy? I inhaled deeply, remembering Baba’s admonition to forgive. To search for divinity in everyone, even grumps like William.

  “He told Saemira once that no one we love truly dies if we let them live on in our hearts. Those we love help us even when they’re not with us. During some of the toughest times in my life, I would think about what he might do if he were in my shoes, and his example would guide me. He helped me be more patient, more persistent, more determined. Since losing him, I hear him telling me to treasure my wife more, spend more time with Altin, do something kind for a stranger. Gramps still lives.” He touched his heart. “I’m so thankful for that.”

  I put my hand on his knee under the table, my heart full to bursting. I still sometimes wondered if I would wake up to find this had all been a sweet dream and be back in my ghetto apartment, desperate to make ends meet and not be sucked into Duke’s evil web.

  But Lincoln was real.

  And he loved me.

  He leaned over to kiss my cheek. “I’m also grateful for my wife and for the two meddling old men who brought us together.” He grinned at Alex and lifted his glass of bubbly. “Thank you from the bottom of my heart.”

  “My pleasure.” Alex raised his glass. “May you have many more happy years together.”

  “I plan on it.” Lincoln kissed my cheek again. “How about you go next?”
he said to Alex.

  He nodded. “I’m grateful for life’s little ironies.” Lincoln and I chuckled. “And I’m grateful for my good friend, Ed, who saved me in so many ways.”

  “Hear, hear,” Lincoln said, raising his glass.

  I was too teary-eyed to say anything.

  Ethel was grateful for new and old friends alike.

  Angel was thankful for our graciousness in letting him live with us—which wasn’t really graciousness as much as greediness on my part. I hadn’t wanted him to be on his own. Duke and some of his minions had been locked up, but there were others who might take out revenge on him. Besides, our massive house had plenty of room for guests.

  “I’m also grateful for the chance to go to school again,” Angel said.

  Obnoxious tears filled my eyes. Geesh. What was wrong with me? Had I cut up too many onions earlier?

  Lincoln squeezed my shoulder. I patted his knee, loving him for caring not just about me, but about Altin and Angel, too. Altin adored him. And Angel was coming to idolize him as well. Lincoln had worked out a deal with the University of Utah for Angel to start school in January. He’d also taken my friend to an eye doctor, who’d thought his eye issues might be caused by poor nutrition and head trauma in his youth. Living with us and eating a better diet had helped some. He’d also put on muscle and didn’t look like a wraith anymore. And Lincoln had an attorney helping Angel with the naturalization process to become a citizen.

  Lincoln’s dad went next. “I’m thankful Thanksgiving is only once a year.”

  Jerk. I could tell by Lucy’s sagging shoulders that she had hoped he might be grateful for her. He should be. His wife was a saint.

  Lucy focused on my brother, who absolutely adored her. “I’m grateful for my son, daughter, and grandson.” She rubbed Altin’s cute head.

  “Gwam, candy?” My brother was such a mooch.

  “No, sweet boy,” she said. “We’re going to eat dinner.” She dabbed at her eyes. “You each have made my life heaven. Thank you.”

  I blew her a kiss. “Thanks for all you do for us.” Now it was my turn. I looked around at all my people and felt a lump grow in my throat. Dang onions. “I’m grateful for all of you. Angel, my best friend since I was a bratty girl of seven who threw rocks at him because I thought he could steal my soul.”

  He grinned as I swiped more tears away.

  “I’m grateful for Wily Wilder and Sneaky Gramps for their part in helping Lincoln see that he couldn’t live without me.”

  “Hear, hear,” Lincoln said, banging his glass like a goof.

  “I’m thankful for Ethel and her graciousness in letting us crash at her home for months while we waited for the repairs on this place to be done. I hope when I grow up, I’m half as classy as you are.”

  “You’ve already surpassed me, my dear,” she said.

  “You’re a brilliant liar,” I said, making everyone laugh. “And I’m thankful Altin’s mine now so no one can take him away from me again.” I blew a kiss to him as a few tears escaped.

  Seriously? Was I getting sick? I never cried.

  “I’m thankful for my new Mom.” I smiled at Lucy, and she wiped at her own tears. “Thanks for loving and accepting me.”

  You’re welcome, she mouthed.

  “I’m grateful to William for hooking up with Lucy—though she deserved way better—and creating the baby who grew up to become my husband.”

  Lincoln scoffed into his hand. He lived for these moments when I threw some cheek at his dad. I made sure not to do it often, just enough to keep the man off balance.

  “I love you,” I said to my husband, loud enough for everyone to hear.

  “I love you more,” he said, that sexy grin forming on his way-too-handsome face.

  “Stop making goo-goo eyes at each other and let’s say the damned grace,” William grumped.

  I laughed because, seriously, that was irreverently funny.

  I snuggled against my husband’s bare chest, basking in the bliss of finally being alone with him. The day had gone off without a hitch, even with William being around. The food had turned out divine, especially the pumpkin cheesecake. Lincoln had eaten two slices. The games had been fun. The visiting had been lively. Everyone had enjoyed the day, even William, though he would never admit that.

  “How did I get so lucky to marry you?” I said.

  “I’m the lucky one.” He traced a finger down my neck.

  I squished his cheeks between my hands. “Seriously. I love you more than I did this morning. How is that possible?” I ran my hands through his hair.

  “Who knows? But I won’t complain.” He rolled me over onto the fluffy pillows and started kissing me.

  I never tired of his kisses, but my head was spinning with thoughts. I pushed his head back so I could look into his eyes.

  Should I tell him now? What if he wasn’t excited by my announcement?

  Drawing in all my courage, I pulled his hand down to my flat belly.

  No more secrets.

  “I’m…uh, guessing you’re going to be a daddy later next year.”

  His eyes widened as he stared at his hand on my belly. “Truly?”

  What did that mean? Was he truly happy? Truly Horrified? Maybe I should’ve done something to prevent pregnancy, but I hadn’t thought about the consequences of a blissful marital relationship until too late.

  Oh, please, let him be pleased! I already loved the little one inside me with all my heart.

  “I haven’t gone to a doctor yet to confirm, but I’ve been nauseous for about six weeks.” I’d kept track on my phone. “And my period hasn’t started. I looked it up and—”

  Lincoln silenced me with a kiss, the type which meant business. I kissed him back since I was a hard-working girl.

  Did this mean he was happy?

  He pulled away but kept rubbing my stomach. “This is amazing! I’m so happy I could burst.” He kissed me again, shutting up my anxious self-talk. “How about we find you an OB/GYN first thing in the morning and make an appointment? I’m coming with you.”

  “You will?” Thank the gods. Taking Altin to the emergency room at the beginning of the year had freaked me out. “Thank you. I’ve been scared to go alone. I don’t know what questions to ask, and I don’t want the doctor to think I’m unfit to be a mom.”

  “Heavens, love.” Lincoln pressed a caressing hand to my belly and silenced me with another kiss. My favorite way to be silenced. When he came up for air, he grinned. “You’ll be a fantastic mom. You’ve worried over nothing. And no way will I let you go alone. What kind of Neanderthal husband do you think I am? This is our baby. We’ll do this together.”

  I buried my head in his shoulder, unable to stop my runaway emotions from flowing out in messy sobs. “Sorry.” I sniffled. “I don’t understand why I’m so weepy. I’m not a crier.”

  He rubbed my stomach. “Pregnancy hormones can do that, they say.”

  “Really? I’m not having a mental breakdown?”

  He laughed. “You’re normal, love. Well—not really.”

  I huffed.

  He kissed my nose. “You’re breathtaking and beautifully unique. There’s nothing normal about you.”

  I soaked in his praise, appreciating his compliments even if they were way over the top and untrue.

  “I hope I have a normal pregnancy.”

  “It’ll be great.” He smiled at my stomach. “I can’t wait to be a dad.” His minty breath made my spine tingle.

  “You’ll be the best, like my baba.”

  “I hope so.” He stroked my arms. “All I’ve ever wanted was to have a family of my own. And now I do.” He teased my lips. “Thanks for making me the happiest man alive.”

  It was the least I could do since he’d made me so incredibly happy.

  Epilogue

  Lincoln

  Adorable coos melted my heart as I leaned over the crib to pick up my eight-month-old daughter.

  “Is Daddy’s princess awak
e?” I nuzzled her soft cheek, making her giggle as I stretched her out on the changing table.

  “Dadadadada,” she said, reaching for my face.

  I lifted her panda shirt and blew on her tummy, making her giggle more. Never had I imagined I could love someone so quickly and so thoroughly as I loved this tiny gem of a girl who looked so much like her mother. From the second I’d held my sweet Bella, she’d stolen my heart. I knew I’d never get it back.

  That was okay.

  The doorbell rang downstairs. I grabbed a new diaper and got my arsenal of wipes ready, then undid the old diaper to see what misery awaited me. I wrinkled my nose.

  “We need to start potty-training you, Princess,” I muttered.

  Bella batted her arms and cooed.

  “You think you can bat your eyes and charm your way out of this?” I said, using about eight wipes to clean up the nastiness.

  She fake-laughed, something she’d been doing often lately. Cutest thing ever.

  I secured the new diaper and snapped her britches closed, then scooped her up in my arms. “You’re right. You can.” I zoomed her around the room like an airplane to make her giggle more. I never tired of her happy sounds.

  “Let’s go see Pompa and Gram.” I headed for the stairs. My parents had jumped at the chance to watch Bella and Altin while I took Saemira out to a fancy dinner and show for Valentine’s Day. I wasn’t the only one besotted with my daughter. Mom adored her and Altin. And surprisingly, Dad had a soft spot for his granddaughter. Even more shocking was how much Bella seemed to love the old grump, always wanting Pompa to hold her when he was around.

  I kissed her lotioned cheek as I joined my family in the living room. Altin tugged at my mom’s pants, begging for candy.