by Freya Barker
I lean over to give him a kiss on his forehead. “Night, honey.”
“Night, Syd,” he says as he rolls over onto his side, pulling the covers up to his ear.
Once out back again, this time with a beer for Gunnar and a bottle of water for me, he clears his throat. “What you said earlier? I think it really brought home what you’ve been through. For me, and I’m guessing for Viv as well. Things we take for granted because we’ve never had to be without, like the ability to spoil a child—those things are precious to you. The little ways you have to make people around you feel cared for. I love that about you, and I hate it at the same time, because, Syd? If there was any way I could turn back time and take back the loss you suffered, even if it meant losing all that you are now? I’d do it in a heartbeat.”
I can’t speak. I’m so full of emotion right now, I’m overwhelmed. There is no way to describe the healing this man provides for my soul. He makes me think about the unthinkable, only to come up with the realization that you can’t win the ‘what-if’ game. Life is a trade off at times. Fate is cruel that way. Sometimes you have to accept the flow; letting go of one thing to be able to embrace the next. I’ll never get over the loss of Daniel, or the part I played in it, but it’s what brought me to this point in my life and that’s something I could never regret. Gunnar, the kids, and even Viv and the pub; they are my future.
“Bird?” Gunnar’s voice breaks through my revelation, a concerned frown marring his forehead. Putting my hand on his face, I try to smile through my tears.
“Love you.” My voice cracks as I give him the only words I seem to be able to manage right now.
“Fuck, baby. I fucking hate it when you cry. Even more when I’m the one causing the hurt.” He grabs me by the waist and hauls me on his lap, tucking my head against his shoulder.
“You’re not hurting me, honey. You’re healing me.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Gunnar
“I want cake too!”
The horde of boys come running in from the deck where they’ve just finished 4 boxes of pizza like a pack of hungry wolves, each trying to out-yell the other after Syd calls them in from the back door.
Emmy went home with Tasha after school, not wanting to be around five boys all afternoon. Syd insisted we wait for her to get back before serving the cake and she was just dropped off by Tasha’s dad. The cake was stunning; Syd worked on it for hours, cutting templates from sugar paste, replicating the printout she made on the computer. What was a thick round double chocolate cake is now an oval, smothered in icing and covered with black and yellow fondant to make a perfect Batman logo image. Pleased as punch with herself, she grins at me from the kitchen, hiding the cake in the fridge until the boys are all situated in the living room with the blinds drawn and lights out for optimum effect. She pulls the cake out and setting it on the counter, sticks ten birthday candles around the perimeter, lighting them with the BBQ lighter.
“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you,” she starts singing as she carries the cake into the room, being joined by five other voices. I don’t sing. Not gonna start now, not when I’m enjoying the excited look on my son’s face who’s lapping up all the attention. Emmy comes to stand next to me and slides her arm around my back. I turn down to kiss her hair.
“You good, sweetie?”
She turns her smiling face towards me. “Good, Daddy. She makes everything better, doesn’t she?” I follow her eyes that come to rest on Syd, who’s encouraging Dex to blow out his candles and make a wish.
“She sure does,” I tell my daughter softly.
With everyone supplied with a generous slice of cake, Syd is walking back to the kitchen when the doorbell rings. Motioning for her to continue, and that I’ll get the door, I walk over and open it, fully expecting one of the parents to have arrived a little early. It isn’t.
“Cindy...”
“I’m not here to make trouble,” she says, wiping the hair out of her eyes that look clear today. “I just want to say happy birthday to Dex. I’ve brought a gift.” She holds up a gift bag with blue tissue paper sticking out.
I feel Syd’s presence before I hear her voice from beside me.
“Of course. Why don’t you come in and have some cake?”
Cindy gapes with her mouth open, her eyes flicking from one to the other. I’m not sure if Syd knows what she’s doing, but trusting her, I follow her lead.
“Yeah. Sure, why don’t you come in? Dex will be happy you made it.”
I step to the side, leaving Syd to lead the way to the kitchen with a rather shell-shocked Cindy following wordlessly behind her.
“Sit.” Syd directs Cindy to one of the stools at the counter and proceeds to cut her a slice of cake, setting it before her and putting a fork on her plate. “Some coffee?” she asks and without waiting for an answer, she proceeds to make a fresh pot.
Cindy is staring at Syd’s back, more demure and beaten down than I’ve ever seen her and I’m surprised to feel pity replacing the anger I’ve carried for so long. Never thought I’d see the day she’d be sitting in my kitchen, drinking coffee and eating cake. Well, technically, she’s not doing either of those yet, but she would be. I’m starting to believe Syd can make anything happen. The kids haven’t surfaced from their cake yet, but they will soon.
“Better dig into that cake. The kids are scarfing down theirs and may go after your piece next.” Syd smiles as she slides a cup on the counter in front of Cindy. “What do you take in it?”
I see Cindy swallow hard before answering. “Cream and sugar, please.” With a voice softer than I’ve heard from her in recent years, she asks about the kids while staring down in her coffee. “How are they? I...I miss them.”
I can see her struggling for composure. With a mind for the kids who could barge in at any time, I rest my hand on her shoulder.
“Kids are good, Cindy. They’ve been hurt and may take some time to get over the anger, but they’re doing okay. I’m sure they miss you too.” It takes everything to be nice to her—I’ve been treated to her brand of vicious too long—but I manage. Syd moved up to lean on the counter across from Cindy. Whether to show her support or to keep me from strangling my ex after all, I don’t know. Guess is, probably the latter. Her eyes radiate warmth when she looks at me over Cindy’s head. With a slight nod in the direction of the living room, she seems to dismiss me.
“Could you make sure the kids are okay? Maybe give us a minute and then let Dex know his mom is here?”
Yup. Definitely being dismissed. But I don’t go without rounding the counter, putting my hand on the nape of her neck and tugging her close for a quick kiss. “Sure you’ll be alright?” I ask her softly.
“Positive. Now get.” With a little shove against my chest she sends me packing.
The living room is a bit of a disaster area. Lanky kids flopped all over the place, all watching Dex play his newest game on the big TV. Emmy sidles up to me as I plop down on the couch beside her.
“She gone?” she whispers.
I look at my daughter, surprised. “Your mom? She’s still here, talking with Syd in the kitchen.”
“Talking. Right,” Emmy snorts, obviously expecting some new drama to develop.
“She is, Emmy. I don’t know for sure what happened to make for this change, although I have a pretty good idea, but she seems to really be here just to see you guys. She even brought a gift for Dex.” I try, but I don’t think Emmy’s sold. A stubborn set to her mouth I’ve become all to familiar with, and a demonstrative crossing of her arms over her chest would be a rather clear indicator she’s not ready to buy into her mother’s change of attitude. Frankly, I’m not sure I am either. If not for Syd setting the tone on this one, I’m pretty confident I’d have left her standing on the front step. She sure as hell wouldn’t be eating cake and drinking coffee in my kitchen. Our kitchen. Shit, I keep having to remind myself.
“Mom’s here?” Some of my whispered conversation with
Emmy must’ve filtered through ‘cause suddenly Dex is up on his feet, throwing his controller at one of his buddies. But before I let him barrel past me, I pull him down on the couch with me.
“Easy buddy. She’s just talking to Syd, so give her a minute, okay?”
But Dex is up within seconds, having sat still for his version of a minute and I don’t have the heart to make him wait any longer. More slowly, I follow him into the kitchen where he’s already folded into his mother’s arms. Now there’s something I haven’t seen in ... well, in forever. Not since he was a toddler has Cindy shown much affection. For either of the kids, actually, as is witnessed by the sharp inhale from Emmy who’s come in behind me.
My eyes find Syd’s and although they are a bit too shiny to my liking, the smile on her face is unmistakable. I wrap my arm around Emmy who seems frozen by my side.
“So what. You show up here with a gift and think that makes everything okay?”
Shit. Should’ve seen this one coming. Emmy pulls out from under my arm and stands in front of her mom with her hands on her hips. “Emmy...” I try, but she shakes her head sharply, warning me off. I don’t know if I can, but I appreciate she wants her say.
This situation could go to hell in a hand-basket in seconds, especially seeing the look of confusion on Dex’s face. But what surprises me is the calm look on Cindy’s face as she turns to face her daughter.
“No Emmy, I don’t. But I couldn’t let your brother’s birthday go by without doing something. I realize full well that making things okay is gonna take a hell of a lot more than that, and—“ Cindy is cut off with a deriding snort from Emmy.
“Since when do you care? He’s having a great birthday, with friends he was never allowed to have over at your house. He even has a cake Syd actually baked for him. She gives him a birthday, more than he’s ever had from you!”
Every word is hitting Cindy hard and she’s fighting to keep her composure when Syd’s had enough.
“Emmy!” Syd draws my daughter’s attention. “I get you’re mad, and you have reason to be, but make sure you don’t spoil things for your brother now.” With a tilt of her head, Syd points to the birthday boy who’s made his way to her side and is leaning against her. Close to crying, by the looks.
“Emmy,” Cindy tries. “I’m gonna fix this. I may be gone for a while trying to get myself sorted, but I will fix this.”
“Right. Well, I hope you don’t mind if I don’t hold my breath, Mother.”
With that, Emmy slips past me and stomps up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door shut. Not gonna run after her. Give her some time to process before we go up there.
The slump to Cindy’s shoulders disappears when she turns to Dex, who’s secure against Syd, her arm protectively around him.
“I’ve gotta go, birthday boy,” Cindy says softly. “I might be gone for a while, but I’ll be back when I’m better.”
“You gonna call?”
“As soon as I can. I’ll make sure your Dad has my number, okay? It’s gonna be alright.” With a straight spine she gets up and walks over to Dex. I notice he is getting tall; almost as tall as Syd and coming up to his mother’s nose. Cindy bends down and gives him a kiss on his hair before facing Syd. “Take care of them?”
“You know it,” Syd promises with a wobbly smile. A mouthed ‘thank you,’ in response before she turns to me. “Walk me to the door?”
I nod and follow her until we are outside on the step, Cindy looking away from me towards her car.
“I just wanted you to know that I’ve had my lawyer sign off on the full custody application. No contest.”
She takes a deep breath before turning to face me. “ I fucked up so bad, Gunnar. Made you hate me—made my kids hate me. I don’t know if I can, but I’ll try. For the kids, I’ll give it all I have. I’ll text you the address and phone number where I’ll be.” The pain is plain on her face and I can’t help but want to reach out, but she wards me off with both her hands raised. “Don’t, just...” A shake as if to clear her head and she’s down the steps walking towards her car.
“Cindy?” I call after her, making her stop and turn. “Good luck.”
She’s motionless for a moment before she nods once, turns, and slips into her car and drives away.
Syd
The moment Gunnar leaves the kitchen behind Cindy, Dex turns his face up to me.
“Do you think she’ll really come back?” His voice is small and not hiding the fear in his words very well. My heart crumbles a little.
“I think so. I think your mom knows exactly what she needs to do to get well, but it isn’t going to be easy for her. That’s why she’s going away—to get some help. But she has the best reasons in the world to make it happen.” I cup his face in my hands. “I don’t think there is anything more important to her than you and your sister, Dex. Have a little faith.”
Poor kid is battling hard to keep the tears at bay.
“Why aren’t you mad at her? She was really mean to you.”
“Not today she wasn’t. Besides, you’ve gotta know I’ll always be grateful to your mom. If not for her, I wouldn’t have two beautiful children to give all the love to that was locked inside me. You two are a gift to be treasured and for that, I will always be thankful. But she’ll always be your mom and I know she’ll be back so she can prove it to you.”
I unwrap his arms from around my waist and plant a quick kiss on his head. “Now, I believe you have some friends who are waiting to kick your ass in that new game of yours.”
Easily distracted, as is to be expected from a ten-year-old in the middle of a birthday party, Dex throws me a smile before running into the other room. His buddies, still focused on the TV screen, totally oblivious to the drama that just played out in the kitchen.
I’m just sitting down with a fresh cup of coffee when Gunnar walks back in.
“Well,” he mutters, a little flustered. “I can’t say I understand what just happened, but I dare say it’s good, right?”
I smile at him, eliciting a small smile in return. “I’d say it was very good, although Emmy concerns me a little,” I admit.
“Give her a little time to sort herself out,” Gunnar offers. “I’m thinking this is a time a girl might need her mom most and hers has been missing in action for a long time, at least emotionally. It’ll take her some time to get over that and I hope Cindy doesn’t let her down. Good thing she’s got you.”
He walks over and insinuates himself between my legs, leaning down to kiss me—wet and deep—before lifting his mouth away.
“You know,” I can’t help but point out, “we’re not so different, she and I.” I push on, noticing Gunnar’s raised eyebrows, questioning my statement. “We’ve had similar destructive ways in coping with our issues. I’d like to think that what I said to her had something to do with it, but honestly? I feel that she was probably already close to her breaking point.”
“Hmmm,” he hums, stroking his large hands over my back. “What did she say to you? I’m guessing she’s heading for some kind of rehab?”
“She mentioned she hasn’t had a drink since we saw her last Friday and she was sorry for going off the deep end on me. Apparently, she left Denise in the parking lot and drove straight to her doctor. She’s been a mess, but rather than deal with her own issues, she focused all her negative energy on the kids, on you, and I guess on me. Her doc called her this morning to say he’d found a placement for her. That’s why she came—she’s scheduled to leave at nine tonight from Boston.”
I dig my face into his chest, feeling sorry for Cindy who’d messed up such a good thing with this man and their kids. She knew it too, telling me I was lucky—that she’d been way too late in recognizing what she’d let slip through her fingers. Oddly, I don’t feel threatened by her. Not anymore. Seeing someone’s underbelly exposed has a tendency to at least balance the scales.
Both lost in our thoughts, the sudden ring of the doorbell and subsequent buzz of Gunnar’s p
hone startles us. I chuckle, “Okay, I’ll get the door, you get the call.”
Disentangling myself from him, I head to the door and open it to the first parent picking up their child.
Within the next ten minutes, one after the other of the boys are picked up and I’ve taken up residence at the door with my loot bags until the last of them are gone. That’s when I notice I haven’t seen Gunnar and go in search of him, leaving Dex alone with his beloved game.
“Gunnar?”
Walking into the bedroom, I see him sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. Walking over, I sit beside him, running my hand along his back.
“What’s up? Who was on the phone?”
“The Chief of Police, James Duffy,” he sounds defeated. “Called to tell me he just came from an interview with Winslow and the department of Internal Affairs. Turns out Winslow was in Graham Bull’s pocket, along with the pockets of a few other movers and shakers. He confessed to setting the fire in the shed, in hopes to gain further favor from Bull in his quest to get me shut down. A full investigation will be launched and Winslow is done.”
Not quite understanding his mood, given what I take to be good news, I prompt him. “That’s positive though, right?” I suggest, but when he lifts his eyes to mine, they’re filled with guilt.
“You’d think so, wouldn’t you? If it wasn’t for his little girl wasting away in the hospital from a rare form of cancer, for which only uninsured experimental treatments are available, or the fact that his wife was admitted last week for severe depression. Don’t agree with his choices, and I’m not saying I’d have allowed him to take down what’s mine even knowing all this, but the man’s been trying desperately to hold his life together by whatever means at hand. And somehow, I can appreciate that.”
With a deep sigh, he flops back on the bed, his arm covering his eyes. I’m a twisted ball of emotions at this news. With tears filling my eyes at the tragic circumstances of Sergeant Winslow’s private life, I lower myself next to Gunnar. My head on his chest and my arm across his stomach. Automatically, his arm comes down to tuck me closer to his side.