by Bijou Hunter
“Candy had a dream,” he says as if that makes the baby a done deal.
My period hasn’t come yet so I might be pregnant. Or I might be late from the stress of the last month. With enough real excitement to focus on, I refuse to let myself get too wound up on a maybe. I’ll take a test next weekend if my period doesn’t show.
We wander in and out of stores before Hayes says, “Bianca Bella used to help me shop for the holidays, but she ratted me out last year. I don’t trust her anymore.”
“Ratted you out how?”
“She told Cricket what I was buying Chipper, and my daughter suffers from diarrhea of the mouth.”
“I won’t tell anyone,” I say and then add, “This year anyway. I’m too new to the family to pull such a risky move. In a few years, I might slip up. You should prepare for that.”
“Thanks for the head’s up,” he says, and I swear he smiles.
Feeling awesome now, I’m a little less awkward with Hayes. Sure, he still intimidates me, but he scares everyone we encounter at the mall. I notice the people at the kiosks rushing to make sales with everyone who passes by. When they see Hayes, though, they keep their heads down and avoid eye contact. Chipper must be rubbing off on me because I find their fear is pretty amusing.
At our visit to the jewelry store to get my ring, Hayes mentions Candy’s wedding ring.
“She added the OG twins’ birthstone to it. Then Cap’s after he was born. A few years back, she added the mini-twins’ birthstone. She mentioned having to have another birthstone added now that you’re pregnant.”
“What if I’m not?”
“If not now, then next month or the next. You’re young, and Chipper is thorough.”
Chuckling at his wording, I slide on my ring. “He’s a great man. I’m so lucky.”
Hayes doesn’t respond, but he watches me in a softer way. Not so grumpy about my trying to get him to buy online any longer. Now he looks almost cuddly. Well, for him.
After the jewelry shop, Hayes decides he needs beef to offset the horror of spending time inside a sparkling nightmare.
“That fucking place always creeps me out. I think it’s the overly helpful salespeople. I don’t enjoy having my ass kissed. Respect should be silent, not overbearing.”
“I’ll take respect any way I can get it.”
“I thought that way when I was young.”
“Doubtful,” I say and immediately worry I’ve poked the bear.
Hayes smirks. “You’re probably right, but I remember things differently now. Thinking back now, I view myself as a once-gentle spirit until the stupidity of people forced me to become a raging asshole.”
“I wonder if I’ll become an asshole one day. If it’s genetic, I might inherit it from Howler.”
Sitting at a small table in the food court, Hayes takes a bite of his burger and grunts. “Howler is a piece of shit. Smells like a turd too.”
“I know. Well, not about the smell. I never got close enough for that.”
“Trust me that he does. I’ve had to be in his stink bubble before, and the fucker is allergic to deodorant. You didn’t miss out on anything by not having him in your life.”
“Thank you.”
Hayes eats in silence, and I don’t mind the lack of conversation. His shoulders no longer hold as much tension as at the beginning of our outing. I think he’s getting used to me. I’m certainly more relaxed around him. As my father-in-law, Hayes warms up to me surprisingly quickly. I can see why Chipper chose him over his bio dad.
“What was your mother’s name?” Hayes asks once he tosses his trash and waits for me to finish my fries.
“Marissa.”
“Did Marissa ever date anyone when you were growing up? Anyone who was like a dad to you?”
“No.”
“Did you have any fucking men around to keep an eye on you?”
“No. Her uncle lived in Florida, but he died when I was a kid, and he was a loser anyway.”
“A girl should have a father-figure around. Candy didn’t have one, and she grew up crappy.”
I’m unsure if he’s insulting me. Does he think I turned out bad because I had no father? “She seems fine to me.”
“No, you’re right. She was tough enough to come out of it okay. Her sister, Honey, married an abusive fucker while her brother, Peet, ended up with an abusive bitch who killed him. Candy’s family was shit. Her mom was weak, and she had no dad. At least, you had a good mother to help you, but you still need a father-figure.”
“Sometimes when Bonn talks to me, he feels like a father rather than a brother.”
Hayes grunts. “Bonn used to be a stripper, you know?”
“Yeah, I heard.”
“Did Chipper tell you how I helped raise him and Cricket?” he asks, and I finally get what Hayes is hinting at with me. I’m so clueless sometimes.
“Chipper said you’re more of a father than the Eddison guy in Cincinnati.”
Hayes smiles just a bit before his rugged face returns to its gruff resting expression. “He was a good kid. A smartass like Candy but well behaved. I never liked kids, but Cricket and him were funny.”
“He told me once how he felt you were the father he was meant to have, even if you didn’t supply the materials to make him.”
“The OG twins didn’t take after Eddison at all. They look and act just like their mom. It’s what made loving them easy.”
I take a deep breath, build up all my courage, and spit out the words, “I’m not like Chipper, Cricket, or Candy. I never think of cool or funny things to say. I’m not tough either. Still, I hope you’ll let me think of you as a father. Howler just supplied the materials, but I’d rather be like you than him.”
Staring at me with his frighteningly dark eyes, he finally says, “That was pretty mushy, kid.”
“I’m a mushy person.”
“Then it’s a good thing you’re part of our family where you’ll be protected.”
Hayes looks awkward as if he might want to hug me or at least pat me on the head. He isn’t certain what to do with my mushy words, but I needed to say the words.
“What’s the deal with the bunker in the back of Chipper’s house?” I ask, allowing him a distraction from the mushy moment. “He said you have one too. What’s it for exactly?”
“Hasn’t Chipper gotten you up to speed on his bunker and the procedures for a societal breakdown?” Hayes grumbles.
“He said he would show me when the weather was better.”
Shaking his head, he sighs. “Fucking kids need to take this more seriously.”
“What’s the societal breakdown?”
“Could be anything. My money’s on the power grid going down. Could be solar flares or terrorism. Even an attack from a hostile nation. People don’t know how to live off the grid, and it’ll be chaos. I expect my family to be prepared for that situation or any other dangerous one.”
“Prepared how?” I ask, finishing my food.
“Chipper needs to teach you how to get the generator and filtration system working. You won’t be able to use your phone, so he’ll need to show you how to work the radios to contact the rest of the family. Do you know how to fire a weapon?”
“No.”
“Chipper said you used his gun with those bikers?”
“I just pointed it at them. Is using a gun more difficult than that?”
“We need to get you to the shooting range. If the world goes to hell, you’ll need to kill intruders.”
“Can I kill intruders even if the world doesn’t go to hell? I don’t want anyone breaking into the house.”
Hayes’s sudden laughter startles the caca out of me. Once I realize I’ve made him laugh, I feel awesome.
We dump my trash and walk toward another toy store to find a learning game no one else carries. Passing a Gymboree, I glance inside and imagine one day shopping for my own baby. The dream of little Chipper makes me smile every time.
“Tatum!”
I ignore hearing my name, assuming the person isn’t speaking to me. I know all of ten people in this area, and none would yell across a mall to get my attention. Even so, a man says my name again while moving closer.
Finally turning toward the person calling my name, I find Jude “Howler” Hallstead in the flesh. Like a punch to the gut, the sight of him stuns me. This is the man who gave me life before stealing my mother’s. He’s the monster I came to Tennessee to destroy. I’ve seen him a single time and never up close. Now as clear as day, he walks toward me, casually calling out my name—the name my mom gave me when she gave birth alone in Florida because he drove her away. He wanted me dead before I was born. I wanted him dead only weeks ago. Then Chipper came along, and I lost the heat of my hatred. Howler’s dentures in my keepsake box definitely helped cool my rage.
As he approaches me, I notice Howler’s bowlegged walk. Did he always move this way or is it a result of Chipper taping the old man’s crotch?
“Can I help you?” I ask as if I don’t know him.
“I’m Howler Hallstead. Your pop it seems.”
My pop? I want to scream at him for smiling when he says those words. He wanted me dead! He threatened a scared eighteen-year-old woman enough for her leave behind her family so she could give birth to a child he helped create! Oh, but he’s my pop now.
“I know who you are. You were younger in the picture I saw, so I didn’t recognize you.”
Howler doesn’t like my answer, just as I hoped. Chipper told me the best way to piss off a powerful person is to treat them as if they’re insignificant. An asshole’s Achilles’ heel is his ego.
“How’s your mother?” he asks.
I’d nearly forgotten Hayes was even in the mall with me. The second I saw Howler, I felt alone in the world. Facing him, I see nothing else. Then he asks about my mom—my beautiful dead mother—and Hayes inches closer to me. I’m not alone. Chipper is too far away, and I’ve never missed him more, but I am not alone. Hayes has my back, and he sees value in me that Howler never would.
“She’s with the angels now,” I say, smiling brightly despite wanting to punch in him the face. “Did you need anything else? Hayes and I need to get back to Christmas shopping for the family.”
Howler glances toward Hayes, never making eye contact. His gaze returns to me, and I nearly shudder at the vile anger behind his blue eyes that would have sent my young, pregnant mom running to Florida.
“You get to your shopping then,” he says and then turns slightly to address Hayes. “If I find out one of your boys was involved in that shit from a few weeks back, I’ll make sure you have a bloody fucking Christmas.”
Hayes grabs Howler so quickly that I instinctively gasp and back away. Wrapping his giant hand around Howler’s wrinkled throat, he shoves the smaller man against a wall. Around us, people scatter to avoid the impending violence.
“I told Chipper to end you,” Hayes growls, sounding more beast than man. “He showed you fucking mercy, but if you ever cross me, fucker, I won’t. You remember that shit the next time you consider threatening my family, you cunt.”
Hayes pulls Howler from the wall and shoves him toward the exit. I wait for the older man to threaten Hayes or make a scene. Instead, Howler just looks scared. He might be a big man in his circle, and I have no doubt he’s killed people, but under threat from the massive Hayes, my father looks like a chump. It takes all my self-control not to giggle at the sight of him nearly running away.
“That was the coolest thing I’ve ever seen,” I tell Hayes once Howler is out of earshot.
“You need to get out more, Tatum.”
“Yeah, but it was still cool.”
“I’m glad you didn’t cry,” Hayes says, walking again. “That’s what I thought was going to happen when he showed up.”
Following him, I can’t stop smiling. “I probably will later when I talk to Chipper about it. Right now, I’m too excited by how scared Howler was. I thought he might cry.”
“The asshole hasn’t aged well. All those dick diseases don’t help. Should have remembered to use a condom.”
“I wouldn’t exist if he used a condom.”
“That’s right. I forget people accidentally have kids. Mine were all planned.”
“Are you showing off or distracting me from what just happened?”
“Both, Tatum,” he says, smirking “Both.”
Grinning at his sly smile, I follow him into a toy store where we buy gifts that Chipper most definitely could get cheaper elsewhere. Hayes never flinches at the prices, seeming downright festive now. Enjoying my early holiday gift by seeing Howler squirm, I’m never more relieved Chipper kept me from ruining my life by ending my father’s. A dead Howler Hallstead isn’t nearly as entertaining as a terrified one.
CHIPPER
Two days before the Hallsteads’ Christmas party, Tatum takes a pregnancy test and proves what Mom declared a week ago. My seed hit pay dirt!
Dancing around the bedroom, punching invisible opponents is probably the least mature response to learning I’m a father. However, very little in this world is as exciting as Tatum carrying my child.
“We shouldn’t tell anyone until I’m past three months,” Tatum says from the bed where she pets Camel Toe and watches me act like a fool. “Cricket said the first three months are when most miscarriages happen, and that’s why she didn’t tell Poet.”
“She’s lying,” I say and kick an imaginary threat. “Not about the miscarriage thing, but about why she didn’t tell Poet. She thought he might not want her, and she really wanted him. I know Cricket, and she was different after the weekend she got banged by Poet. That girl had Dirty Biker Fever.”
I jump on the bed, landing next to Tatum and scaring off the cat. The furball never warmed up to me, but she adores the gorgeous blonde. While Camel Toe marches off, I snuggle against Tatum.
“I hope the baby looks like you,” I say, kissing her throat. “And acts like you. And smiles like you. The only thing the baby should take after me is the snark. Our kid must have snark, or she won’t survive this family.”
“I don’t have snark.”
“You do especially when drunk.”
“Well, I’m taking a break from Mistress Booze for a while.”
“You won’t have to go dry alone. I’ll give up booze too. Our baby girl expects us to be a team, right?”
Patting her stomach, Tatum smiles. “I think it’ll be a boy. Chipper Junior.”
“Nope, it’s a girl. I can feel it in my balls, and you know they never lie. After all, they were right about you,” I murmur and wiggle my brows.
Tatum caresses my hair while I rest my head on her lap. She glances upward, and I know she’s thinking about her mom.
“You’ll be an amazing mother,” I whisper. “When you don’t know what to do with the baby, just ask what your mom would do, and that’ll be the right answer.”
Tatum’s green eyes well up with tears, but she never loses her smile. In the last month, she learned how to keep her grief from consuming her. She’s stronger now, and I see her improving every day. Yet she’ll feel the sorrow from losing her mother and best friend until the day she joins her in heaven. I have no doubt about this fact, but Tatum definitely sees more light than darkness these days. Knowing I had something to do with her recovery makes me feel like a bigger stud than if I bagged a hundred women. Breezy is the prize I didn’t know I needed.
I get to show off Tatum at the Christmas party where she shines in a sparkly red top and black slacks Cricket and Bianca Bella helped her pick out. They also gave her a decorative braid that I keep caressing.
“Do I look okay?” she asks before we leave our house.
“I want to make another baby inside you this very moment.”
“You’re sweet,” Tatum says before sidestepping my clingy hands. She hurries to the front door and reaches for the black jacket she borrowed from Bianca Bella. “Help me survive this party, and you can strip me naked once
we get home.”
Despite her anxiety at meeting the Hallsteads and Rutgers, Tatum doesn’t hesitate when we walk through the front door of her aunt Alice’s purple Victorian mansion in Hickory Creek Township. The grand ballroom isn’t nearly as crowded as I expect. I immediately spot Cricket, Poet, and the mini-twins in matching red shirts. The foursome shakes their asses on the dance floor to “All I want for Christmas.” Minnow eventually gets tired, forcing Poet to finish the dance with her snugly in his arms. Next to them, Murphy jumps up and down like a crazed kangaroo, completely mimicking the crazy person who gave him life. Cricket might be the worst sober dancer I’ve ever seen. She only knows how to do the twist and jump from side to side.
“My sister is such a dork,” I tell Tatum who frowns. “No one that sober should be willing to dance that badly in public.”
“Wait until you see me dance.”
“I’ve seen you dance plenty,” I tease and lean down to kiss her freckled cheek.
“I mean sober dancing.”
“Oh, yeah, you and Cricket should start a lame dance troupe. It would be fucking amazing to watch, though I prefer your naked dancing.”
“Stop making me think about nookie when I’m around all these people.”
“No matter what happens tonight,” I whisper in her ear, “don’t forget that I’m sporting a hard-on. That stiffy ain’t going anywhere until we get home and you tend to it.”
Tatum giggles behind her hand. “What if want to dance?”
“Then it’ll be the three of us.”
“Well, four,” she says and then looks around to make sure no one is listening to our conversation. I don’t know if she’s more worried about people knowing I’m horny or she’s pregnant.
“I’ll get us sparkling apple cider. In those fancy fucking glasses, it’ll look just like sparkling champagne. No one will be the wiser.”
The waiter takes my drink order moments before I spot Chevelle entering the ballroom and making a beeline for her family. Before moving to Jamaica, she was still a girl in many ways. Her new life made her a woman. Every time I’ve seen her since Chevelle left, I feel as if she’s become more of a stranger. Tonight, I nearly don’t recognize her at all.