Four Letter Word

by J. Daniels

  I gave him a quick squeeze, then turned my head to ask the kids, “Did you guys eat?”

  Oliver looked up from his iPad.

  “No. We weren’t hungry before we left. But I’m starving now.”

  “Me, too,” Olivia said, keeping her eyes focused on what she was playing and not turning around. “Can we order pizza again, Uncle Brian?”

  “Why don’t we make them instead?” I suggested, both pairs of eyes drawing to me with interest. “You can both make your own how you like it and we can even do a dessert one. It’s easy and super yummy.”

  “A dessert one?” Olivia sat up taller and licked her lips.

  “Yep. We can put chocolate or peanut butter sauce on it and chocolate chips, marshmallows, M&M’s—”

  “Let’s do that!” she shrieked, cutting me off and spinning around completely so she was hanging over the back of the couch. “I love marshmallows and chocolate. We can do a s’mores one with graham crackers, right, Ollie?”

  “Yeah, totally. Can we eat them on the beach?” he asked, mimicking his sister’s position and looking a milder form of excited.

  I looked up at Brian.

  He was staring down at me in a way that made my toes curl against the wood.

  “Wanna have dinner with us on the beach?” I asked, pressing my hands to his chest. “I think the kids will really like the pizza. I make it all the time, and I don’t mind running out and getting ingredients.”

  “Sweet of you,” he said.

  I shrugged.

  “I’ve been told I can be sweet sometimes.”

  His eyes dropped to my mouth.

  “Yeah,” he breathed.

  “Are you guys gonna kiss like they do on TV?” Olivia questioned through a small, excited voice.

  “That’s disgusting,” Oliver muttered. “I can’t watch this.”

  Brian’s chest shook with a laugh, breaking him out of his fixation.

  I tipped my chin back and waited with eyes closed and lips puckered.

  He gave me a very G-rated kiss, sending Olivia into a fit of giggles while Oliver groaned uncomfortably, apparently he lied and totally watched it happen, then Brian pulled back only to press another kiss to my forehead.

  I moaned and melted closer.

  Forehead kisses from Brian were the best.

  “Make a list for the store,” he ordered. “I’ll go.”

  I smiled, then turned to Olivia, who was still watching us, and gave it to her.

  “Ready to play hair salon?”

  She was ready, and she showed that by dropping her iPad on the couch like it was on fire and trading it for a bubblegum pink case she pulled out of her duffle, holding it above her head with both hands and nodding frantically.

  I wanted to eat her up. She was the cutest.

  After making Brian a list of ingredients, I sat on the floor in front of the couch and let Olivia brush, twist, braid, pull, and tease my hair, accessorizing me with nearly every clip she had, all while listening to her gab about Minecraft, some show about a gumball, and her brother, who was older by ten minutes.

  Then we switched places and I made her hair super pretty, as requested.

  * * *

  The kids loved making their own pizzas, which both ended up being extra sauce and two types of cheese after Olivia heard what Oliver wanted and changed her mind from her original plan, lots of pepperoni.

  It was sweet how she wanted to keep with what he had, and according to Brian, it happened a lot and Oliver was the same with her.

  I wanted to eat Oliver up, too.

  Seriously, these kids were the sweetest things in the world.

  We had our slices of pizza on the beach, picnic style on a blanket, then the two of them ran around for a bit and got in the water but only up to their knees, keeping their clothes dry.

  When it was time for dessert, we headed back inside and I popped the s’mores pizza into the oven while Brian sat on the couch between the kids and cued up a movie on Netflix.

  I could see the top of Olivia’s wildly accessorized head. It was resting on Brian’s shoulder. Oliver’s wasn’t but he was sitting close enough I knew he was leaning against him, too.

  It looked natural. All three of them cozying together. The scene struck deeper than witnessing a doting uncle spending time with his niece and nephew. It warmed my heart so much more than I was expecting, blooming unfamiliar hopes and dreams and wishes inside me. I stood next to the island for long silent minutes, taking shallow breaths and staring at the three of them as fear and longing spread through my soul.

  I wanted kids.

  For the first time in my twenty-four years of life, I wanted kids.

  I, Sydney Whittaker, wanted to be a mom.

  Holy…shit.

  I was either going to pass out right here, throw up, or start crying. One of those three things was bound to happen.

  Brian turned his head and peered at me over the couch.

  “Coming over?”

  I sucked in breath through my nose, feeling it tingle as my eyes watered.

  Option three. I was going to start crying.

  Brian noticed my change in demeanor and craned his neck farther to question it.

  “You all right?”

  I needed to get a handle on my emotions. This was a happy night, and I didn’t want my newfound desire for kids bringing down the mood in the room.

  But seriously, this was life changing and warranted a minute of freak-out, at least.

  Just not right now.

  Needing to find my composure since I had eyes on me, I turned my head and looked at the wall by the slider, focusing my gaze on the eight-by-ten picture that hung there of Jamie on the beach, sun beaming down on him, board in hand and a shiny gold medal around his neck.

  My nose stopped tingling and my eyes dried up.

  Idiot.

  “Syd?”

  “Perfect,” I answered, calmed and confident, then walked across the room and rounded the couch. I smiled at Brian, gave a little of it to Oliver, then shined it all on Olivia as I sat down next to her. “I’m perfect.”

  She smiled back and giggled when I shook my hair and made the clips clack against each other.

  I hadn’t taken all of them out yet.

  “Can you turn the fireplace on, Uncle Brian?” Olivia asked, tilting her head up. “My toes are cold.”

  Brian stood from the couch, walked over to the wall next to the slider, and flipped a switch. The fireplace made a clicking noise like a burner on a stove, then roared to life seconds later.

  Olivia hopped off the couch as Brian reclaimed his seat and moved to the floor so she was closer to the fire, stretched her legs out in front of her, and wiggled her feet. Then she looked over her shoulder at Oliver and pushed her glasses higher on her nose.

  “Ollie, come down here and watch.”

  He joined her without protest, sprawling out on his stomach and tilting his head back to watch the movie, knees bent and feet kicking the air.

  I looked from them to Brian, holding on to a smile.

  He patted the spot next to him.

  “Hey,” I whispered, burrowing against his side and breathing him in.

  He smelled like salt water and spring meadow detergent.

  “Hey,” he whispered back, throwing his arm around me and holding on to my waist as I leaned on my left hip, dropped my head against his shoulder, and bent my knees, resting my bare feet on the couch.

  Olivia giggled at the TV, looked at Oliver when he laughed at the same thing, then turned back and giggled some more.

  “They used to live here with you?” I asked quietly.

  The thought made me smile. I could picture tiny feet jumping on the bed in the morning and rousing Brian awake.

  I felt his head turn and the heat of his mouth against my hair.

  “Two years ago. Moved here from Denver and stayed with me until Jenna found them something. It was only for a couple months.”

  “Denver? Jeez. That
’s crazy far away,” I replied. “What were they doing out there?”

  “My parents live there,” he said. “We grew up in Emerald Isle but my dad’s job took him to Denver when I was a senior in high school. Didn’t want to go so I moved in with Jamie and his family. Liked the idea of staying near the water. I’m not much for snow sports. Jenna was fifteen so she didn’t have a choice. My parents took her with them.”

  Jenna looked young, maybe close to my age, and I knew the kids were seven.

  “How old is Jenna?” I asked.

  “Twenty-six.”

  I did the math, then sat back to look at him, forcing his arm to slide to my back.

  “She had the kids when she was nineteen?” I questioned with shock in my voice.

  He nodded.

  “Oh, my God. That had to be insane. I can’t imagine two babies at nineteen.” I looked to Oliver and Olivia, then turned back to Brian and leaned in to ask quietly, “Where’s the father?”

  His face hardened.

  Uh-oh.

  “Asshole signed over rights when they were barely a year,” he spat. “Didn’t want Jenna to carry them. Told her to terminate the pregnancy.”

  My eyes went round.

  “What? Her boyfriend asked her to do that?”

  “They weren’t together,” Brian clarified. “Hooked up at a party once and that was it. Jenna wanted something to come of it but Derek didn’t want anything to do with her. Couldn’t even man up and be a dad to those kids.” He shook his head with a clenched jaw. “Good thing I wasn’t living there. Probably would’ve killed him if I ever met the shithead. Know it was tough on her doing it alone but she didn’t have to for long. My parents stepped in and took some of the load off. Watched the kids while she finished school and got her degree. Once she was done, she wanted a fresh start, for her and the kids. Told her to come out here and I’d help out as much as I could.”

  I placed my hand on his chest.

  “That was sweet of you.”

  Brian shrugged, then looked at the floor where they were sitting.

  “Wanted to know them. Be someone they could rely on. They’re good kids who got dealt a shit hand.”

  “That’s not true.”

  He turned his head to me.

  “You saying they aren’t good kids?” he asked.

  “Of course not. They’re terrific kids. I love them so much already,” I replied, seeing his mouth twitch. “I’m saying they weren’t dealt a shit hand.”

  He cocked his head.

  “How’d you figure?”

  I got close again, pressing against his side as my hand slid up his chest to his neck and jaw, where I held him there.

  “They have a mom who loves them enough she knew she’d be facing a hard road and she took it anyway, doing it because she wanted them,” I explained. “She fought for those kids and she fought alone, and I have no doubt in my mind they aren’t missing out. I only had one parent.”

  Brian’s eyes went soft and the hand holding me tensed at my side.

  “Up until she couldn’t be a good one anymore, my mom was all the parent I needed,” I continued, sliding my hand down to his shirt. “That being said, I also had a nana who gave me the kind of love only a grandparent can give, which those kids also had, only they had both your parents. That’s a lot of love, Brian. Then they got you when they moved here. I see what you mean to them. The way Olivia smiles at you and Oliver absorbs what you’re doing and watches you closely. Their hearts are very full. In no way did they get dealt a shit hand.”

  Brian reached out and snagged one of the butterfly clips dangling at the end of my hair and held it between his fingers.

  “You act like you’ve been watching me with them for years,” he said, sliding his eyes to mine. “Only been a couple hours, Wild.”

  I swallowed against nerves crawling up the back of my throat.

  “It has,” I agreed softly. “But I could watch you with them for five minutes and still come to the same conclusion I’ve come to.”

  “That we’re close?”

  “Yes.”

  He smiled.

  “And that I’d very much like that someday.”

  Brian chuckled softly.

  “Pretty sure we’re close, too, babe.”

  “No, not that.”

  He released the clip, let his hand drop to my thigh to hold me there, and with eyes curious and calming, searched my face.

  “What then,” he pried, dipping closer until his lips touched my temple. “What do you want, Syd? Name it. I’ll get it for you.”

  God…

  I sucked in a breath, mouth opening to answer just as the timer on the oven buzzed behind us.

  I leaned away. “I should get that.” Then I scurried off the couch, moving quickly into the kitchen.

  “Is it ready?” Olivia called at my back.

  “Maybe,” I answered. “Let me make sure the marshmallows are all gooey.”

  “Yummm. Gooey marshmallows,” she moaned, and smacked her lips.

  After silencing the buzzer, I fitted my hands with oven mitts so I could grab the tray the pizza was cooking on.

  “Here.”

  Brian was at my back, easing me to the side so I was no longer standing in front of the oven.

  He slipped one of the mitts off my hand and fitted it on his right, then opened the oven and pulled out the tray, holding it up for me to examine.

  “Done?” he asked.

  The chocolate was melted. The graham crackers looked toasted. And the marshmallows were definitely gooey.

  It looked and smelled delicious.

  “Done,” I answered.

  Brian set the tray on top of the burners, turned off the oven, took his mitt and grabbed the one I was still wearing, and tossed them on the counter. Then grabbing my hips, he pulled me against him and stared intently into my eyes.

  “What do you want?” he asked again, this time sounding more urgent.

  “Uh.”

  “What conclusion did you come to after watching me spend five minutes with Oliver and Liv?”

  “Well, maybe a little longer than five minutes.”

  “Syd.”

  “Mm?”

  He squeezed my hips and bent to get closer.

  “You want somethin’ from me?”

  I slowly released my breath and, on the last bit of that exhale, admitted a quiet, “Yes.” Then I went on to explain after hopefully pulling in a nerve-calming burst of air.

  “I was with Marcus for seven years and I never thought about having kids with him.”

  Brian didn’t say anything. I wasn’t sure if he was even breathing, but his fingers were definitely holding on to me a little tighter.

  I swallowed down hesitation and went on.

  “Never. And that’s what you do when you get married, you think about if you want a family or not, and you talk about it together, but that never happened. I never brought it up and neither did he. I spent practically every day with Marcus and not once did I look at him and want him to give me that. Not once. Then I see you sitting on that couch with Oliver and Olivia, and for the first time in my life I want it, and I want it in a way I know I’ll never go back to not wanting it, and that’s just after one actual day with you. One day, Brian. What am I gonna want in a week, or a month? What other hopes am I gonna have? I’ve missed so much of myself being with Marcus. Not just peanut butter and puppies. I wanted kids and I didn’t even know it. You showed me that.”

  Brian was definitely breathing now. I felt it when he hauled me closer, moving his hands to my back and taking my weight until I was up on my toes and my legs and hips and belly and chest were all pressed against his and our faces were almost touching, lips almost kissing as we shared the same air.

  I thought he was going to tell me I was crazy, because I was. This was.

  I thought he was going to say we needed to slow down, get to that week or that month before we talked about stuff like this.

  I thought he
was going to say no.

  But Brian didn’t say any of that.

  He breathed, slow and steady, then uttered a stilling, “Okay.”

  My eyes blinked wider.

  Just okay.

  That’s it. That’s all he said.

  One word that held so much and sounded so loud, and if it was written, I could read it forever.

  “Okay?” I asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “Really?”

  “Really.”

  Wow.

  “Okay,” I whispered anxiously back. “This is crazy, Brian,” I pointed out, laughing a little. “We’re talking about kids and neither one of us has said…you know…it yet.”

  Brian smiled, moved his hands to the top of my ass, and dropped his head until it was touching mine.

  “It?”

  “Yes.”

  “What’s it?”

  I fake glared at him.

  “You know…”

  “Does it count if I wrote it?” he asked.

  Losing the glare, I blinked as he leaned away, then released me, watching him move to the kitchen table and pick up the crossword book I spotted in his room last night. He carried it over, head down as he flipped to a page near the front.

  When he reached me, he kept hold of the pen and held out the book for me to take.

  I took it and my eyes began scanning the page he indicated with a tap of his finger.

  Most of the answers appeared to be filled in and there was nothing written along the margins. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to be looking at or what I was expecting.

  Perhaps “I LOVE SYDNEY” in bold capital letters?

  Or “Sydney and Brian forever”?

  Yes. That’s what I was expecting.

  I liked stuff spelled out for me, remember?

  “Um. Sorry, where am I…”

  “Sixteen across,” Brian stated.

  Top-right corner. The word “WILD” was written in bold capital letters.

  It was the only answer written that way.

  I appreciated the tribute to his nickname for me, but I was still expecting something different.

  “Um…”

  “The clue, babe. Read it.”

  I found the clue for 16-Across.

  And I read it.

  Zero, on a court.

  “Love.” The answer was “love.” I knew this one. I played tennis in high school.