From Dust

by Freya Barker

  “I’ll not have you soil our name any further than you already have, young lady,” my father warns, ignoring my mom. “You’ve done enough damage to our reputation as it is. The newspaper articles and the horrid rumors they’ve spurned, as if killing your son wasn’t damaging enough.”

  The moment the words leave his mouth—words I’ve heard many times before—I can feel the tension ratchet up. Gunnar has frozen behind me and anger radiates off him. My attempt to hold him back with my hand on his chest is futile as he lunges at my father, grabbing him by the neck and slamming him against the brick wall he was leaning against earlier.

  “Gunnar,” I try to get his attention. “It’s not worth it.”

  “Not gonna let some pimped up, waste of space drag you through the mud,” he grinds out as my father claws at the hands constricting his throat, gasping for air. “You listen carefully, you son-of-a-bitch. You may hold influence in your little Boston clique, but here in Portland, I hold all the fucking cards. Your daughter is loved here and she’s not going anywhere with the likes of you. Your precious name will be gone from hers as soon as I can get a fucking ring on her finger, and you can stop worrying about your ‘reputation’. As of this moment, you are done with her. Completely. She’s mine to worry about and to care for, and that may not be much in your eyes, but it’s a fuck of a lot more than she ever got from your miserable ass!”

  With one last shove into the wall, he releases my father, who stands bent over with his hands on his knees, fighting to catch a breath.

  “We’ll sue you for assault.” The cold voice of my mother, who is walking towards us, causes a small pang of hurt, but I straighten my shoulders and turn to face her.

  “You try that, and I will go public, all over Boston’s media with my sordid story, Mother. What you’ve accused me of for most of my life—being a blight on your name—will finally come true. Ironic, isn’t it? I guess it’s true what they say about those self-fulfilling prophecies.”

  She scoffs and looks at me with that little superior smile I know so well, but haven’t missed even once in the past few years. “Still not the smartest knife in the block, I see, Sydney. You proved it when you backed up over Daniel and then proceeded to drink yourself into a stupor, and you’re proving it now. Just like I always said. You go public on your ‘sordid’ story, your name would be ruined right along with ours,” she says mockingly.

  Unbelievable.

  “You really are a lost cause, aren’t you, Mother? Not only do you wave Daniel in my face as some well-honed weapon, but you are really too blind to see that I don’t give a fuck about reputation.” It gives me a rebellious hint of satisfaction when I see her flinch at my use of profanity. “This man, and these people I’ve come to love, they don’t care about my reputation. All they care about are my actions; what I do as opposed to who I am or where I come from. It’s beautiful, Mother. And something you will never have the satisfaction of knowing in your narrow-minded, cold existence.”

  Gunnar’s arm comes around my shoulders and I realize I’m shaking. Whether from cold or emotion, I can’t be sure, but his comforting hold feels good ... safe.

  “Let’s go, Bird. And don’t look back,” he says, walking me to the car.

  Once seated and buckled in, I can’t resist a last look at the people who raised me. My father standing behind my mother, his hand proprietary on her shoulder. A picture of proper breeding and etiquette, and nothing I want any part of. I put my hand on Gunnar’s leg and he places his hand on top to anchor me.

  “Let’s go home,” I whisper.

  Gunnar

  “So was that some kind of half-assed marriage proposal back there?” Confused, I turn to a smirking Syd. The teasing twinkle in her eye unmistakable.

  “You did tell my father you were planning to put a ring on my finger. I must say, I’m not sure that is the way to go about asking a man for his daughter’s hand in marriage, but I could see he was persuaded.” I throw my head back and laugh. Damn it feels good to let go of the tension and anger. Syd chuckles quietly beside me. Fuck, I’m a lucky man.

  “You won’t need to wonder when I’m asking—you’ll know. And the question will be directed at you and no one else.”

  I squeeze her hand under mine and watch the sweet smile on her lips from the corner of my eye, but when her tongue slips out and licks her plump bottom lip before disappearing inside that delectable mouth, my foot gets heaving on the pedals and I beeline it home.

  “Omigod, Gunnar. Please...”

  “Tell me what you want, babe. What do you need?” I hum against her straining little clit. My fingers are poised at her entrance, keeping her strung like a bow.

  The moment we walked in the door, I had her up against the wall in the hallway. With mouths and tongues clashing and taking, our hands make short work of the clothes and have us naked and rubbing up on each other. “Shower first,” Syd mumbles into my mouth. I grab her behind the thighs and lift her up, her legs instinctively wrapping around me. With my cock sliding against her wet pussy with every step, I carry her up the stairs and into the shower, having the presence of mind to toss a condom from the drawer in the soapdish

  “Fuck me. Please...”

  Water cascading down our bodies, I shove two fingers deep while sucking her clit into my mouth. Her back is leaning against the tile and one leg is draped over my shoulder, spreading her wide for my onslaught. The tightening of her fingers in my hair and the shaking of her legs tell me she is right there. With the slight curve and the increasing pressure of my fingers, I bite down on her clit, sending her careening over the edge.

  “Ohhh yessss. Fuck!”

  My hands on her hips, I turn her to face the wall and push on her back to bend her forward. Without hesitation, I slam my cock inside her heat until I bottom out, balls slapping against the wet flesh of her rounding ass. The sight of that round perfection jiggling slightly every time I thrust inside her has me teetering on the brink of coming, but not without taking her with me once more. Curving over her back, I tweak her nipple with one hand while the other slides between her legs to press down on her clit. This time I feel, rather than hear, her orgasm with the clenching of her cunt around me. With a surge I swear puckers my asshole, I jerk my explosive release inside her.

  “I can’t believe something precious like you came from those soulless creatures claiming to be your parents,” I mumble with my face buried in her still wet hair.

  Exhausted from our explorations in the shower, and later once more on the bed, I’ve got her naked ass pressed against my groin and my hand cupping her breast.

  “I used to think I was dropped off by aliens when I was little and a bit over-imaginative. I can see why now. They are like something from a different planet, aren’t they?”

  “Uranus, more than likely.”

  Syd chuckles softly at my lame joke and a sense of well-being settles over me.

  “You know I love you, Bird. Right?”

  “Hmmm, yes I do. Best feeling in the world when the one person you need to breathe, loves you back as hard. You make me strong,” she says, turning her head to kiss my shoulder.

  “I sometimes wish I’d met you when we still young. I wonder if I could’ve prevented—“ Syd suddenly turns around in my arms and slams her mouth on mine in a punishing kiss.

  “Don’t.” The word vibrates against my lips as she slowly pulls her mouth away and holds my face steady in her hands, all the love in the world shining in her eyes. “Everything that we’ve been through—all the pain and the anguish—has brought us right here, to this point in time.” With one last kiss to my lips, she turns back and snuggles her backside tightly against me. “The only thing missing from perfection is knowing the kids are safe in their beds down the hall.”

  I squeeze my eyes shut to keep this perfect moment from leaking out.

  “Where are we going?”

  It’s taken me forever to convince Syd to let me blindfold her.

  “Won’t be much long
er,” I tell her as I pull through the ornate gates and drive down the tree-lined path.

  I made these plans a few weeks ago, but had been sitting on them for the right moment to put them into action. I’d even checked with Pam, to make sure I wasn’t doing anything to move Syd back in time. Feeling guilty enough over going behind her back and calling in some help to get all the information I needed, Pam was able to assure me that the result would justify the means.

  Still, I’m nervous for Syd’s reaction when she finds out where I’ve taken her.

  Pulling the car to the side on the grass, I turn off the engine and turn only to find her fiddling with the blindfold. “Not yet, babe. We need to walk a bit first,” I warn her, my hands pulling hers away from her head. “Sit right here.”

  I step out to make my way around to the passenger side to help Syd out. The moment she stands beside the car, I grab her face in my hands and slide my mouth over hers.

  “Hmmm,” she hums when I release her lips, smacking them loudly. “Now I have a better understanding of the appeal of blindfolds in the bedroom; you tasted even more delicious than normal, and the sounds are so much clearer. Is that water I hear running?” She tilts her head to the side, trying to listen. All I can do is think about Syd naked and blindfolded on our bed, and my hand goes to my crotch immediately to adjust myself.

  A warm chuckle has me lift my eyes to find Syd’s face turned my way, a smile on her lips. “You were just groping yourself, weren’t you; thinking about me wearing this thing in bed? I’m starting to read your mind, honey.”

  “Would appear so,” is all I say, the nerves starting to squeeze my throat. With my arm around her waist to guide her, we move between the rows of markers. Some simple and plain and others quite ornate, bordering on ostentatious. Following the map I’d memorized, we finally come to a stop.

  Syd’s gone quite still beside me, all earlier light-hearted humor gone from what I could see of her face. Fuck.

  “We here?” she whispers and I lean down to kiss her lips.

  “We are,” I say as I reach behind her head to release the knot in her blindfold. Syd lifts her hands to her eyes, but instead of pulling the cover away, she presses it back against her eyes.

  “Tell me it’ll be okay,” she pleads, one tear and then another sliding down her face. Wrapping her in my arms, her hands still pressed to her face, I rest my cheek on the top of her head.

  “I’m here. We’ll be okay.”

  “I can feel him, you know? I’ve never been here before but I know where I am because he surrounds me. I feel him in my heart, against my skin—I can even smell the scent of his hair.”

  I don’t question how she knows where we are. Whether she heard something to clue her in or could sense it from me, it doesn’t matter. But I don’t doubt for a minute her son is with her in this moment; invading all her senses. Hell, I know only too well how impossible she is to resist. How could anyone resist the quiet loving force she radiates, drawing everyone in? Why not from beyond the grave?

  “I believe you, Bird.”

  With a little push against my chest, she steps away from me and lets the blindfold drop in her hands as she turns around to see her son for the first time in five years.

  “Hi baby,” she whispers as she leans over and presses her lips against the cold marble of his headstone.

  I don’t make any attempt to wipe the tears that are rolling down my face. I just stand here in awe of the love I can feel radiating from her.

  “Mommy misses you so bad...” A soft sob escapes her and she sinks to her knees before going on. “I was lost for a while; wanted to turn to dust like you, but I wasn’t ready. Someone special found me and he brought me to see you. But I want you to know I always carried you in my heart, even when I was trying to forget you.”

  The harsh sound of pain keens from her mouth as she rocks herself, sitting in the grass beside her son’s grave and ripping a hole in my chest at the sight of her. I want to make it better, but I can’t, so I stand here, crying at the pain I feel from her until finally I can’t take it anymore and drop down beside her, pulling her in my lap.

  The keening quiets and with a little time, the sobbing slows as well. “This is Daniel. He was the best of me,” she says, now with a little smile on her lips before she turns and looks at me. “You’re crying?” Her hand comes up to my face.

  “Babe...” My voice croaks, sounding like the morning after a rough night, but I don’t have it in me to continue. And I don’t get a chance to before a soft voice breaks through the bubble of grief surrounding us.

  “Rosie?”

  I feel Syd’s body stiffen under my hands as a woman who looks very familiar, tentatively comes closer, her hand pressed against her mouth.

  “Rosie, is that really you? Oh my God, it is you.”

  I get up slowly, bringing Syd up with me who stands frozen in front of me, looking at the woman who stops about six feet away, her hands wringing together, and it hits me. The familiar look, the voice with the same timbre, Rosie must be a nickname for Syd from when they were kids. This must be her sister. Moments later, Syd confirms with a shaky voice.

  “Sofie? What are you doing here?”

  “I come every Sunday morning to read him Harry Potter.” She indicates the fat book sticking out of the purse hanging off her shoulder. “His favorite, Harry Potter and the Go—“

  “The Goblet of Fire. Yes I know.”

  That’s all it takes. The sisters are instantly in each other’s arms.

  Once again aware of my surroundings, I spot a bench not too far away and after tearful introductions are made, I lead both of them to sit there to talk while I walk around a bit to try and regain my man-status.

  Fuck me.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Syd

  “What time are they supposed to get here?” I ask Gunnar impatiently, who just eyes me with mild amusement.

  “Anytime now, Bird. Anytime.”

  The past two weeks have flown by with the kids gone. Mostly because of the hours I’ve spent reconnecting with my sister after our dramatic encounter at Daniel’s grave. I smile at the memory, bittersweet as it is. Gunnar’s initiative had done so much more than he even anticipated. The first hurdle had been to hide his plan long enough for me not to bolt at the thought of having to face my child’s grave. I hadn’t even felt the urge to run once I got out of the car, still oblivious, and felt Daniel’s presence in every pore of my body. A cathartic experience of loss, grief and finally a sense of peace I hadn’t thought possible to achieve. Surrounded by Daniel’s sweet memory and Gunnar’s love, I was able to find the missing piece of me that day. The final closure I needed to fully embrace my future, not by leaving Daniel behind, but by allowing him to live on in the part of my heart that was always reserved for him—and he filled it completely.

  The cherry on top had been Sofia’s appearance at his gravesite. This had not been part of Gunnar’s plan, but the timing so perfect, the feelings at that moment so pure, I don’t think any planning could have facilitated.

  Three times I met with her after that day, finding out she had surprisingly settled somewhere between Boston and Portland, in Ogunquit, with her family. Apparently, her husband had had enough of my parents’ daily negative influence in their lives, with their constant criticism of Sofie and the way they were raising their children. The first opportunity for him to move to a new location outside of Boston with the bank he’s worked for for years, he took off, moving house, wife, and children into a beautiful townhouse in the center of the quaint little town. Last time I saw her was Monday, when Gunnar suggested we take up the invitation for dinner and make the forty minute drive down. Seeing Brad and the girls again was emotional, but in a very good way. It did hurt my heart to see my nieces, suddenly young women. Amazing teenagers with active social lives and a comfortable friendly manner about them. They’d get along famously with Emmy, I’m sure. The moment of sadness at having missed so much of their formative years passed q
uickly as Gunnar and Brad almost immediately wandered out the back door with beers in hand, to discuss the merits of the latest trades made by the Red Sox. Male bonding, So simple.

  Gunnar insisted I see Pam right after we returned from the cemetery in Boston. He’s been so worried he ‘fucked me up,’ worse than I already was. That made me chuckle and give in immediately, but still he apologized profusely after realizing what had come out of his mouth. Spent an exhausting hour with Pam, insisting Gunnar stick around so he could hear for himself the impact this experience had on me. Needless to say, some more tears were shed in that session, both on my part and Gunnar’s. I swear I even saw Pam blink away a tear or two, although she’d vehemently deny that.

  Seeing Gunnar cry was an almost surreal experience. From his first ‘Who the fuck are you?’, to the soft-hearted giant wiping the wetness from his eyes was a huge jump, and yet it so aptly paints Gunnar for the kind of man he is. It also feels like the best of compliments, to have a big burly man like that—one who will protect you at all cost—allow himself to show you how the sight of your pain can bring him to his knees.

  He gives me everything I had forced myself to stop dreaming of, including two wonderful kids, both of whom are expected home today, although Emmy wouldn’t come in until tonight.

  “There’s the bus,” the main subject in my thoughts points out as the big lumbering tour bus hobbles over the speed bumps of the school parking lot.

  Little faces are pressed against the windows, smiling big and waving wildly as some spot their parents.

  “Where is he? I can’t see him.”

  I can’t wait to feel Dexter’s arms squeeze me. Fun as it has been, being able to wake up in the morning and having Gunnar all to myself, I miss Dex’s early morning snuggles.

  The bus has come to a stop and I’m craning my neck to see if I can spot him.

  “Here he comes,” Gunnar rumbles in my ear, pointing slightly to the left of the bus where Dex is held up, backpack in hand and chatting up a little girl, or at least she’s little compared to Dex, while waiting for their luggage.