He tried to catch some sleep, but even though for once the puppies laid right down and passed out after doing their pre-dawn business, his mind was racing. He found himself in the living room, picking out chords as the sun came up. Something was coming together in the back of his brain. He could hear the strains of a melody and tried combination after combination until it struck him that he had it right.
He was playing through several parts of it, the words still not formed but still scratching at some silent lobe of his brain, when he realized that it was eight o'clock. For all his excitement, for all he and Shay had decided that they would have lunch together today with the boys, they hadn't pinned down a time or a plan. His day was at the mercy of a six-year-old and a three-year-old. But it was eight, so he grabbed the phone to call her right as it rang.
"Hey, Shay." Even as the words fell off his tongue, he realized that was hardly the way to greet her. "I was just picking up the phone to call you."
I was just picking my heart up off the floor where it's been since I last saw you.
The words jolted him and he reached out to write them on the paper as she spoke something odd to him. Something that after a moment was clearly to the boys. Then she turned back to him. "I talked to the boys and while they love the new apartment and want to stay here, they heard you have puppies."
"Ah, so they have no concerns about meeting me. Just the puppies."
"I hate to say it, but that's probably true. Boys and puppies. You understand." Her tone was lilting, like she was happy just to be on the phone with him.
"Why don't you come by around eleven? We'll take the puppies out for their walk and we can figure out lunch from there."
"That sounds great." She sounded reluctant to hang up and Craig's heart swelled at the thought of it.
Even as he clicked the button and turned back to his guitar, his brain raced. When had anyone ever just loved the sound of his voice?
Okay, that was a stupid question. He had fans. But they liked the tone and timbre of his voice, they liked the sound. Shay seemed to like that it was actually him on the other end of the line.
He'd written for another hour when he had a disturbing thought: his fridge was completely bare. He already didn't know if he had anything her boys would want to play with besides the dogs, and he didn't even have food if they wanted sandwiches. Or chips. Or soda. Did she let her boys drink soda? He needed juice. And soda. Because if she did let them drink it and he didn't have it . . .
His heart rate kicked up, thinking how important it was that he make a good first impression on her kids. He had sized up his foster parents, his case workers, even his tricks, at the drop of a dime. He expected her kids to do the same. Then again, maybe they didn't have the practice that he'd had at it, by even a young age. He hoped not. But he was going to do his damnedest to make sure he got it right. Just in case.
With the guitar abandoned on the couch, rather than set back up into its holder, he grabbed his wallet and keys and dashed out the door.
Chapter 30
Shay shuffled the boys into the car, surprised how nervous she was. It was not only the first time the boys were really meeting Craig, it was her first time seeing him on his turf. She'd been to his house before. That wasn't the issue. But she'd moved herself and her kids here because he was here. This was permanent, even if Craig turned out not to be.
She had just started the engine when she realized she'd moved to be with a man. Again.
It was how she'd wound up in Bristol in the first place. She'd grown up in a small town in the western corner of Virginia, but Jason had wanted to hit the big city and she'd followed him.
Her breath came fast as she wondered if she'd made another monumental mistake. She'd been thinking about kids with Craig. Her kids and maybe a few more. She'd been thinking about his offer to move in while she house hunted and that she was holding out until it was a permanent offer.
Was she falling into old patterns? This smacked of Old Shay, not New Shay. Shit.
"Mommy. Let's go. Want to meet the puppies." Aaron whined.
Owen was probably whining in his head. He wasn't much of an external whiner. He had only two modes, low key and full blown, depressive, angry, everything is wrong. Luckily he didn't go there much.
She pulled out of the spot, realizing she had no options except to go to Craig's. She'd promised her boys a chance to play with puppies. There was no way to explain the old habits that had gotten her into all her messes in the first place. Not to the kids who were the results of those messes.
But she was here now. And there was no going back, even if just because her boys didn't deserve another move, another change of scenery. She was going to have to watch herself carefully. No pushing Craig to suggest she move in with him. No asking for extra favors; he'd already done more than anyone else.
She took the last turn into his neighborhood with a deep breath and a glance around at the other houses on his street. Pushing down the sigh and the desire to have a house like his, she fought against it. The very last thing she should do was move into his neighborhood. That was incredibly poor planning. What if it all fell apart? What if her boys had to deal with their mom seeing her ex every day? She hadn't even had to deal with that shit with Jason or Brian.
She parked on the street and watched as his front door swung open. He didn't come down the walk. Probably not wanting to overwhelm the boys, he stood there with one shoulder pressed against the door frame, arms casually crossed. He looked like a sin waiting to happen.
His white thermal shirt had some black print design on it. It was pushed up at the sleeves, giving peeks of the black ink tattoos that snaked down his biceps and just beyond his elbow. They looked like a continuation of the design from the shirt. His jeans clung to him, and she knew what his ass looked like both in and out of them.
Over the roof of the car she offered him a smile that she hoped looked sincere and not horribly nervous. If her boys didn't like Craig, she didn't know what she would do. But Owen was already out of the car and Aaron was jumping against her hands as she tried to unsnap him from his five-point harness, then walk him around to the side of the car with the sidewalk. Both boys came to a dead halt about halfway up the sidewalk until Craig smiled at them, his arms unfolding.
Shay jumped in. "This is my friend Craig that I told you about. And he has two puppies inside."
"They're really excited to meet you." He offered up and stepped out of the doorway inviting them inside. She stepped through the front door, not remembering any of the previous times she'd done that. Each time before had been too fraught with other problems to take notice of the hardwood floors, the open curtains, and light airy feeling. This time she noticed not just that the old furniture made her feel more at home, but it made the whole place feel more like a home.
Craig disappeared into his room, and she watched as Scarlett and Gunnar came scampering down the hallway toward the sound of voices. They skidded to a stop—poorly—as though they wanted to meet the boys up until the point where it actually happened. Shay thought they were a lot like kids that way.
Owen crouched down and stuck out his hand, making her wonder when he'd had experience with dogs before, because he looked like he knew what he was doing. Aaron glanced at his brother then tried to do the same thing, though his chubby little toddler legs didn't quite have the grace of Owen's older frame. For a moment the world disappeared and Shay found herself immersed in a thought she'd had pretty often lately. Who was Owen's genetic father?
Given the circumstances, he couldn't be a decent man that she'd want in her son's life. But as she looked at Owen, she was grateful that he'd passed on at least some good genes. Shaking her thoughts off, and trying to pay attention to the moment, she looked up at Craig and softly asked, "Do they bite?"
His eyebrows popped as though he'd never thought about that question. Then he moved in close to her, whispering, "No, but I do."
She couldn't help the grin that spread across her face ev
en as he turned away from her and plopped down on the floor next to her boys. "They don't bite. But sometimes they chew. It shouldn't hurt, but don't let them do it. They have to stop chewing on things, so they don't do it when they're big dogs."
Owen nodded solemnly as he slowly baited the little dog to sit next to him. He stroked the tiny head, petting all the way down to the tip of the tail and pretty much mesmerized the little dog. But when he picked Gunnar up to settle him in the cradle of his lap, Gunnar popped back up and tried to play.
Craig was sympathetic. "He just got up, so he's going to want to be more active. Do you want a toy for him?"
No sooner had Craig fetched a toy for Owen and Gunnar than Aaron had hopped up wanting one for Scarlett—or "Scarret" as he called the puppy. At least she didn't seem to mind.
After they played like that for a while, with Craig monitoring, he suggested they take the puppies out for a walk around the block. It probably took five times as long as it usually took him to get the dogs ready. Kids were like that, Shay knew, but Craig probably didn't.
He decided that Owen could walk Scarlett, holding the leash by himself. Shay had never seen her son light up so bright. The combination of a dog and being thought of as big enough for a bit of responsibility was the best thing Craig could have done for him. It was even better that Owen hadn't earned the privilege from his mom, that it came from someone else. Shay wondered if Craig knew what he'd done.
He didn't seem to. He just crouched down so he looked up to Owen and explained a few things to him. "Don't let her tug. If she tugs on the leash, you have to tug back. If you let her do it, that means it's okay and she'll keep tugging until she trips you. Plus, she'll be really big one day and what's okay for a puppy is not okay for a big dog."
He kept the instructions simple and workable, then turned to Aaron, "You can help me or your Mom walk Gunnar."
When the little boy's face fell, Shay consoled him. "When you're older, honey."
Then they were out on the block, Owen up ahead with Scarlett, gently getting in her face and telling her 'no' when she tugged, and 'good girl' when she did what she was told.
"He's a natural. Has he had a dog before?" Craig asked her as they walked a few feet behind.
"No. I never had time for anything more than I already had." She thought about that. The move was hectic and things were still at a fast pace, but she was convinced her life had taken a serious turn for the better. She wouldn't have to save so much; they could do more fun things together, get the extra school supplies rather than the bare minimum, spend time with Craig.
Craig unknowingly interrupted her deep thoughts, which was fine, she was tired of them. So much had happened, that she was ready to just be for a while. But the kitchen still needed to be put together and though the boys' bedroom was set up, hers was not.
"I had to learn all this from a book." He told her. "I had no idea what to do with them, so some teenagers at the pet store took pity on me and got me a great book to help."
Aaron walked in front of her next to Gunnar, his legs working to keep up with the puppy. He babbled to the little dog the whole way, touching Shay's heart with his joy. They looked like a family out walking their dogs.
Her heart surged. Then her brain shut it down.
Her mother had been manipulative. Her husbands had been manipulative. And Shay had to admit that she had, too. She'd learned to work the system and whenever she could work it in her favor, she’d done it.
As she watched Owen give a gentle tug back on the leash as Scarlett tried to surge ahead, she thought that she and Jason had probably never spoken a single true word to each other. Even when she told him she loved him, she'd meant it, but she had been lying, because she hadn't even known what love was then.
She knew it now with her sons.
She almost stumbled at a crack on the sidewalk as her brain turned over.
With a frown, Craig reached out and took the leash from her. As the change moved Gunnar's path on the sidewalk a bit, Aaron noticed and turned around. He opened a wholly unrelated topic, as he often did.
"How come you don't have a Christmas tree?"
"That's a good question. Should I have one?" Craig asked her son through the haze of Shay's thoughts. They were almost around the whole block.
"Yes. You should definitely get one." Aaron declared, looking back at Craig rather than where he was going.
He tripped, too, his chubby toddler body falling without the ability to stop himself. His butt hit the sidewalk as Owen turned the corner, having gotten ahead of the three of them.
Before Shay could do anything, Craig swooped down and scooped her boy up. When she held her hands out, he absently handed her the small dog's leash, rather than her son, like she'd expected.
In a way she didn't have the strength to do, he flipped Aaron upside down and over, checking him for bruises. "Do you have any cuts?"
Her son giggled—the little one who could have a meltdown when something triggered it, and a bump or a bruise could sure do it. But he giggled in Craig's arms until Craig put him back down to join the puppy tugging on the leash. The little procession continued on its way, with Shay calling out for Owen to wait up. At least he hadn't gotten out of her sight in a strange neighborhood.
Her heart tugged again, and she shoved it down again.
"Does it always take this long to go around the block?" Craig's question startled her.
"Yes. It's like standing still, only faster." She responded wryly.
The laugh that burst from his chest lit up her world as she turned up his walkway to head back into the house.
Craig showed Owen how to set up the baby gates so the puppies would stay in the living room. Then when Owen finished, Craig quietly checked his work without letting the boy know. "Who wants lunch?"
Shay grinned. "It depends on what lunch is. We ate out a lot on the road. I don't know if I can handle another burger."
"I have plenty." He grinned and opened his fridge to reveal a stock to rival a grocery store. "I didn't know if you would want soup or sandwiches or both or . . . I don't know."
As she looked at her options, Shay realized nothing had been in the fridge for more than just a few hours. He'd only gotten home at four or five this morning. He must have gone shopping for her and the boys.
She couldn't fight it any longer. She was in love with him. It was as simple and terrifying as that.
Chapter 31
Craig insisted on coming over that evening to help with some of the unpacking. He'd waggled his eyebrows at her when he opened the bag containing her lingerie. After a ridiculous tussle, she'd pulled it out of his hands, and he'd finally kissed her.
The boys were playing back in their room on the premise that if they played nice they didn't have to help with the work of setting up the townhome. So she and Craig were finally somewhat alone.
It was the first kiss of her new life, she thought. In her new room, in the new town that she had chosen, in the apartment that she could afford because she didn't have to sock away every penny that wasn't necessary for food, water, or rent.
Craig was here and she wanted to tell him how she felt, but she had no idea how he'd react. Despite the fact that they'd both had traumatic upbringings and that they understood each other on that level, his bad home had been much different from hers. Her mother had smothered her, told her how to do everything, made Shay's purpose in life very clear. Craig’s life had been the opposite. So how would he react to having Shay tell him she loved him? She didn't know. So she didn't say it.
Before he even left, he invited her and the boys to come the next day and help him find and decorate a Christmas tree for his house. That had turned into a shopping trip for a six-foot fake tree. They ventured out to find it among the hordes of people finishing up their holiday shopping.
The boys made ornaments for him like it was going out of style. Owen cut slim strips of colored paper that he stapled into a chain, getting frustrated each time he got his colors out
of order. Aaron finger-painted hand prints, then demanded that Shay cut them out and string them. Which meant that her job took five times as long as his and she couldn't hope to keep up.
She called her own Mom and again reminded her that she wasn't going to come home for Christmas this year. She'd thought she was abandoning Zoe with their mom, but then Zoe said she'd used all her travel coming to help Shay and the kids. Zoe was going to have to manipulate her mother carefully there. If she’d been helping Shay, that was okay, but if she were just visiting, well she should have visited her mother, too.
Eventually, Mom called Shay back and told her she and the boys couldn't come for the holiday anyway, that she had been invited out to a special Christmas with her latest paramour and the girls needed to find something else to do. Typical, Shay thought.
Though the boys had asked after Grandma, they seemed pretty comforted with Christmas Eve dinner at Kelsey and JD's house. Craig attended and so did TJ, as JD and TJ's parents didn't seem to be home for Thanksgiving or Christmas. Shay found out that was normal for them and she couldn't imagine what kind of parents would choose travel over being with their own kids on the holidays. Then again, she'd chosen not to spend the holidays with her own family, so who was she to judge?
After dinner, Craig drove them to her townhouse, the boys strapped into car seats he'd bought for them. Shay was pretty sure he’d done his research. He'd gotten it right, even getting a booster for Owen that didn't suggest he was a baby in any way. By the time they pulled up to her temporary home, both boys were out cold. She unstrapped Aaron from his car seat behind hers and started to shake Owen and tell him softly to wake up. She really couldn't carry him anymore and there was no way she could haul them both. But Craig was already there, shooing her hand away, unbuckling Owen and letting him loll forward into waiting arms.
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