by Ciara Shayee
Keen to be a ‘big boy,’ Carl-Roman scrambled down from Laker’s lap, little legs pumping furiously as he dashed out of the French doors, through the garden, beneath the broken fence panel, and into Peter’s house. Knowing Pippa and Heidi were in the kitchen wrapping the rest of the food to bring over, Reagan felt confident letting Carl-Roman head over alone.
While they waited for Carl-Roman, Pippa, and Heidi to join them, Peter stood to hug Archie and wish him a happy birthday, laughingly reminding the young man that he was well on his way to thirty at twenty-eight years old.
“Yeah, yeah, old man. Just you wait. How old are you in a few weeks?” Archie’s teasing reminder of his upcoming fiftieth birthday brought a boyish scowl to Peter’s face, though his eyes gave away his joy that this year, he’d have his whole family there to celebrate with him.
Who cared about turning fifty when, after over a decade of being splintered into pieces across the globe, your family was whole?
“All right, all right, let’s leave it at that, shall we?” Grace and Indie giggled at Peter’s indignation, the four men in the room masking their smiles at the sound. While they’d expected the girls to be worse than usual in the days following their statements, Indie and Grace had gone the other way.
While it was clear they were hurting, it was also obvious they were fighting their fear; fighting to enjoy Archie’s birthday for the first time in twelve years. And why shouldn’t they? It had been a long time coming, and if anybody deserved to have a day of trying to forget the past to enjoy the present, it was Indie and Grace. Their own birthdays had gone uncelebrated on the ranch, so they were cramming twelve years of birthday parties into this, their first, since being reunited with their family. They didn’t care in the slightest that it wasn’t their party, they were just happy to be there—happy to celebrate their brother.
With that shared, resolute thought, Reagan, Peter, Archie, and Laker decided to make it the best birthday party yet.
chapter twenty-one
By lunchtime, Archie was practically delirious with glee.
The house was full of laughter, smiles, and tearful hugs. Music played from the speakers in the kitchen, every surface covered with a mix of presents wrapped in shiny, colourful paper and food the girls spent the morning preparing. Taking pride of place in the centre of the dining table was a cake on a stand; a two-tiered, chocolate fudge cake with icing figures sitting on top. Models of Archie, Laker, Indie, Grace, Heidi, and Pippa as children grinned from the icing reservoir, strawberry laces with cocktail sticks through the middle posing as fishing rods while brightly coloured jelly beans masqueraded as fish in the blue buttercream ‘water.’ It was an exact replica of Archie’s fourteenth birthday field-trip. The group had spent a happy few hours fishing with Reagan and Peter watching over them, not a care in the world. Just eight months later, their world imploded.
The happy cries of Carl-Roman as he played with Marley and his older cousins brought smiles to everyone’s faces. For a child who’d quite literally been an only child for so long, Marley had taken to having her cousins around with aplomb. Reagan’s brother, Theodore, and his wife, Jenna, had come over with their five children—Debbie, Jada, Mike, Alexis, and Eric—as well as Debbie’s fiancé Robbie, and their four-month-old son, Isaac. As Theodore chuckled, tucking Indie into his side, Reagan grinned so wide he thought his face would split. He couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head when he remembered his brother’s face earlier that morning, when he set eyes on Indie for the first time.
The sound of the press gathered outside alerted the group inside to Theodore and his family’s arrival. Indie glanced at the clock from her position at the kitchen counter, where she was stirring potato salad. 10:20a.m.
Right on time, she mused.
“Baby girl, are you okay?” Reagan’s soft voice and his hand resting on her shoulder snapped Indie back to the present. A shiver rippled through her body as she realised she’d had no idea he was behind her, lost in thought as she was. Anybody could have crept up on her.
“I…I’m good, Dad.”
She could tell Reagan didn’t believe her, but he didn’t push it and turned towards the doorway instead. They listened to Peter opening the door. A handful of seconds later, a tall, muscular man with dark blue eyes and a mop of dark blond hair stepped into the doorway. His gaze was fixed firmly on his older brother and Indie. He inhaled deeply while Indie’s eyes filled with tears as she took in the changes in her uncle. His stance was a little less straight, face a little more wrinkled; shirt just a little tighter around his stomach.
“Crikey, you look just like your mother,” Theodore finally breathed, a tear sliding over his cheek before dropping onto his blue shirt. Reagan chuckled through the lump in his throat, Indie’s shuddering exhale shaking her entire body. Theodore’s eyes roamed over her face, taking in this familiar yet so unfamiliar young woman. Both Reagan and Indie could see the wheels turning; see the recognition as it dawned in his eyes. He wasn’t the first, and definitely wouldn’t be the last, to notice how inconceivably closely she resembled Penelope.
“How are you? Are you okay?”
Indie nodded jerkily.
“Is it okay if I give you a hug?”
This time, Indie’s nod wasn’t just jerky, it was hesitant. She wanted so badly to be able to hug her uncle, but she was all too aware that it only seemed to take the smallest things to send her into a panic attack. That wasn’t what she wanted, not today. Not on her brother’s birthday.
Compartmentalising her pain and fear, Indie took a step towards Theodore. Slowly, trying hard not to startle her, he moved closer, before finally loosely wrapping his arms around her shoulders. The shudder rippling through her made him want to let go, but she shook her head when he made to move, so he stayed. They were still hugging five minutes later when his wife and their children found them.
Brought back to the present by a particularly loud cry from Debbie’s baby son, Indie reached up to adjust her ponytail, glancing at Isaac in her cousin’s arms a few feet away; his large, dark blue eyes were fixed intently on her. Debbie noticed where his attention was focused and smiled, tears heavy in her eyes.
“Here,” she said gently, handing her son over without hesitation. Blue-green eyes were wary as surprisingly steady hands automatically moved to support the gurgling baby, his mouth open in a smile as she rested him comfortably in the cradle of her arms. Isaac’s chubby fist gripped her hand, the answering smile on Indie’s face lighting it up.
“It’s so good to have you back, Indie,” Debbie said.
Their eyes met.
Indie fervently hoped hers were speaking for her, because at this moment the entire situation felt so overwhelmingly right she was finding it hard to pin down just one emotion.
For the next hour, little Isaac chatted happily from Indie’s arms, smiling at the family members and friends coming over to check on Indie under the guise of cooing at him. At one point, Marley left the train tracks she and Carl-Roman had set up to meet the baby in her mother’s arms, cocking her head in confusion when she spotted them.
“Hey, baby girl. Are you having fun?”
Marley nodded excitedly, the smile she’d worn all morning reappearing. Indie had explained the concept of a birthday party to her over breakfast. She’d been confused, but had quickly grown in confidence when she saw how much Carl-Roman was enjoying himself. She’d run around with him ever since, occasionally checking in with either Indie or Laker.
Noticing Marley peering intently at baby Isaac, Indie smiled. “This is Isaac, baby girl. He’s our cousin.”
Marley reached out gingerly, stroking his cheek with a single fingertip. She smiled cautiously up at her mother, silently asking if it was okay.
“You can touch him, but be gentle.”
As she fussed over baby Isaac, Marley spotted Laker. He had planned to pass by and let her bond with her cousin, but she waved him over with a wide grin and he couldn’t bear to deny her, so he took the s
pot beside Indie in the bay window and smiled at his favourite five-year-old.
“How’re you doing, Little Sweet? Having fun?”
Marley’s head almost popped clean off as she nodded vigorously in reply, pointing at Isaac’s face. Laker smiled, leaning over to peer at the baby. He hadn’t met Isaac yet, but he’d seen lots of photos and sent a large hamper of goodies, as well as an extravagant bouquet of flowers, to Debbie and Robbie when he had arrived.
“He’s cute.” While Marley preoccupied herself with cooing at Isaac, Laker leaned in and whispered, “Have you told her yet? You know, that she’s getting one of those?”
Indie shook her head slowly, her smile slipping. “I don’t know how. I know she saw it on the screen, but I don’t think she realises that it’s a baby. She just seems to think it’s like SpongeBob on the DVD player. She’s never had to share me, you know? I don’t want her to be upset.”
“She’s fine sharing you with Carl-Roman and Chase, so far. And Isaac, here. I’m sure she’ll be fine with it.”
“You think so?” Indie asked hopefully, peering up at Laker.
He was grinning at her, trying to picture the same scene, but with her baby in her arms, Marley cooing over her baby brother or sister. It was difficult to imagine until Isaac began to fuss. Indie immediately forgot about Laker, adjusting the baby at her chest while gently stroking a finger over his forehead and nose. Suddenly, he could picture her with her own newborn perfectly. It only took a few seconds for the baby to settle once more, snuggling into her with an expression any mother knew.
“Deb, I think Isaac is hungry,” she called quietly, handing over the baby with a soft, wistful look in her eyes.
Laker stared at her for a beat, smiling until she couldn’t take not knowing why any longer.
“What?” She snapped teasingly.
“Nothing. It’s just really easy to see you like that with the little sea monkey you’re growing. It’s a nice picture, is all.”
She’d had a fair few similar comments throughout the day from her family members. Having now seen her with Marley, they were all in agreement—she made a wonderful mother, and would again with this new baby when he or she arrived.
The pair beamed at each other, Marley snuggling into her mother’s now-vacated lap with one hand resting on Laker’s belly, clutching the fabric of his t-shirt. They were so wrapped up in one another that not one of them noticed the flash of a camera as Grace snapped a photo of the trio, cocooned in their own little world.
~ oOo ~
By six p.m., almost everyone had gone home. Roy and Mary returned to their house while Theodore, Jenna, and their children left for the hotel, having travelled from their homes in Kent. Reagan and Peter were required to attend an emergency meeting with the local council about a housing development their company was due to break ground on in the coming weeks. They couldn’t pass up the opportunity for more business, so they suited up and headed out, which left Archie and Laker with Indie, Grace, Heidi, Pippa, Marley, Carl-Roman, and Chase.
While the two older girls tidied up the leftover party food and decorations, Archie played with Carl-Roman, Marley, and the train set in the living room—he’d already tucked Chase into his cot upstairs. Laker took himself off for a shower, and Heidi and Pippa sat at the dining table to complete some forgotten homework. A different CD, made up of softer music, complimented the calm atmosphere spreading through the house as everyone wound down.
Though they’d dressed up to look nice for a day where hundreds of photos had been taken, which would be pored over for years to come, everyone had changed out of their ‘posh clothes’ as Carl-Roman had dubbed them. Now, they all wore comfy pyjamas or tracksuits. Much to everyone’s amusement, the dark grey tracksuit bottoms Indie had borrowed from Laker days before had been washed and become her go-to trousers for when she was pottering around the house. This evening she’d teamed them with a white and red striped T-shirt, knotted at her hip with a hairband.
She and Grace, who was sporting a pair of leggings and a scoop-neck t-shirt, looked every bit the ordinary young women they should have been. For an outsider looking in, there wouldn’t be anything amiss. Except, perhaps, the cameramen and women gathered outside just itching for photos of the birthday boy’s special guests.
Grace’s head snapped up at the sound of the bin lid slamming shut, baby-blues meeting Indie’s apologetic sea-blue.
“Sorry.” She adjusted the lid so it wouldn’t slam again, tipping the rest of the leftovers into the trash before turning to face Grace with a small smile.
“You all done?”
Grace nodded, so the girls headed into the living room with their arms linked, delighting in the sound of Carl-Roman’s giggles. He was lying on his stomach between Marley and Archie, the trio all hitting buttons on their train controllers as fast as possible, eyes following their respective engines around the track.
For a moment, Indie felt her body completely relax. The sight of her daughter being a normal child, playing with her uncle and cousin, filled her heart to bursting point. This was how it should have been when she and Archie had children. They should have been like this since the beginning, not bonding only now at age five and six.
Indie’s eyes became misty as she gazed at her brother, nephew, and daughter, their expressions and stances identical in excitement and in their determination to win. With perfect clarity, she remembered Archie’s face set exactly the same only more youthful, though nobody could deny the handsome edge his wide, relaxed grin brought to his face. Settling themselves onto the sofa farthest from Archie, Carl-Roman, and Marley, the girls let their eyes wander.
Grace realised they’d forgotten to take down the banner over the TV as Indie’s eyes found the muted screen, widening as she read the writing rolling across the bottom.
The Ashbys and Davieses celebrated Archie Ashby’s birthday together for the first time in twelve years. A spokesman for the two families, Special Agent Riley Lawrence, told us that the families are celebrating together quietly, and request that they are left to spend the day without distraction or interruption. Thank you.
Archie, having noticed where the girls’ attention was directed, grabbed the TV remote to turn the volume up just as the presenter reappeared, detailing the few things the world knew about the case. Indie, Grace, and Archie were filled with a sense of bemusement as the screen switched to a view of Reagan’s house. A balding man with a shirt in a hideous shade of orange talked about Theodore, Jenna, and their family who’d visited for the day, then played the short clip of Theodore speaking to them before he left.
Indie’s lips twitched upwards as she watched her uncle give thinly veiled comments about the press being rude by hanging around, before raving about how amazing it was that the girls had been returned to their families.
When the cameras returned to the presenter in the studio, the screen split into two halves, with the new half displaying photos of the girls from the campaign twelve years ago, the van, Garrett Smith, and the girls’ heavily guarded selves a few days previous. There were also shots of Reagan and Peter leaving in their suits, as well as pictures of Archie, Carl-Roman, and Chase arriving that morning. He spoke about the little boys, making sure to refer to Carl-Roman’s name and the fact that it was a nod to his aunties.
Along the bottom, well-wishes from social media scrolled past in an endless loop, a concept Archie had to explain to his sisters who could only just wrap their heads around the two game consoles sitting beside the DVD player.
“So, if you’re watching, Indie and Grace, we wish you all the best with your recovery!”
The girls squeezed their twined hands, listening as the news program completed.
“Everyone has your backs, squirts,” Archie commented quietly.
Indie and Grace smiled half-heartedly, only now realising how true his statement was. The whole situation was an awful lot to take in. The world was watching them.
“I think…I think we’re gonna head up to bed
if you don’t mind?” Grace finally said, her yawns coming too frequently to ignore.
Archie nodded sympathetically. It had been a long, exhausting day for him, so he hated to think how tired the girls must be. They weren’t used to the chaos of family life just yet. “Sure, you guys go on up. Do you need anything?”
They shook their heads, so he stood, gave them both grateful hugs, and grinned as Carl-Roman and Marley bounded over before watching them make their way out of the room. Marley frowned for only a second before giving into her own tiredness and letting Indie carry her up the stairs.
Upstairs, they fell into bed in the clothes they were wearing, curling into the centre of the bed with Marley in the middle, as usual.
It wasn’t long before the girls slipped into a deep sleep, lulled into unconsciousness by the muffled sounds of Carl-Roman’s giggles, the husky yet soft tenor of Archie’s voice, and the quiet ticking of the clock beside Reagan’s bed.
~ oOo ~
By the time Reagan and Peter arrived home, Carl-Roman was fast asleep in his bed upstairs, and Archie was just closing the toy box after clearing away all of his son’s trains.
Reagan tugged his tie loose, tossing it over the back of the sofa as he sank into its cushions with a sigh while Peter went to fix them both a drink.
“Meeting go okay?” Archie asked, falling onto the sofa opposite his dad.
“Yeah,” Reagan sighed. “We got the permission we needed. Work will start a little later than planned, but it shouldn’t make too much difference if we work damn hard.”
Archie nodded, the pair lapsing into silence.
Reagan chewed on his lip—a habit his daughter and granddaughter sporadically displayed. He cast a quick, hesitant look toward his son, then sighed and mumbled, “Sod it.” Readying himself for his son’s likely defensive response, he inhaled a deep breath and sat up a bit straighter. “Son, where was Kristen today?”