“Where is he now?” he asks, his gruff voice causing me to slightly startle. I’ve never really seen Brooks angry, but his tone suggests that we should tread lightly. Once my nerves settle, I’m a little relieved to see him take such a huge interest in my safety.
“I’m sorry; who are you?” Charlotte asks, looking perturbed and her tone matching her attitude of disdain.
“Um, this is Brooks, my boyfriend.” Her head twists around to face me so quickly that I wouldn’t be surprised if she experiences symptoms of whiplash in the morning. Her look of utter disbelief matches her movement. She disapproves.
I give her my best please-be-nice glare, as I continue with introductions. “Brooks, this is my older sister, Charlotte.”
Charlotte purses her lips, but since she was raised to be polite in all situations, she turns and reaches out to take Brooks’ hand. “Good to meet you. I wish it could have been under better circumstances,” she says.
“Nice to meet you as well and I agree, the circumstances could be much better,” he reciprocates as he moves into the kitchen and shakes her hand. Instead of taking a seat at the table though, he continues to stand, his rigid demeanor unwavering. “Please continue. Where is he now? I want to make sure that he can never come in contact with Vivian.”
“He was released to a half-way house in Greeley, where he will be on a strict probation for the next eighteen months. Then if he hasn’t violated any of the stipulations of the probation, he will be officially released. He will still have to check in with his parole officer, and there will be rules surrounding that release over the next five years, but officially, he will be out and among us.”
“This is so surreal,” Amanda adds. “I could be walking down the street or standing in line for coffee and just bump into the man that killed our dad. It seems so twisted.”
“I know; I mean I don’t know what I would even say to him.” I look to Brooks, whose eyes are burning a hole in the floor. His hands are now at his sides, but are balled into fists. I push my chair back, the wooden legs scraping against the tile flooring, and walk across the kitchen until I find myself standing toe-to-toe with a conflicted Brooks. I lace my fingers with his, drawing his attention from the floor.
There is a fire behind his eyes, causing my worry to no longer lie with the villain of my childhood, but with the man I love, who seems to be plagued by his own demons. “Hey, you,” I whisper, rousing his eyes from their veil of fury. I stroke the backs of my fingers across his cheek, attempting to soothe his torment. “I’m okay, Brooks. We are going to be all right. He can’t come anywhere near us, and the likelihood of running into him for any reason is slim to nothing. So don’t worry about this; I’m not going to worry about it.”
Brooks shakes his head. “How can you say that? That man is a monster; he killed your father, and now he is out like it never happened. How can you forgive and forget?”
“I have neither forgiven him nor forgotten what he did, but I can’t let it run my life anymore. I had to move on from it, just like I had to move past Will’s death. I couldn’t let it consume me.”
“Okay, but if he ever tries to contact you, you have to let me know right away. I will never let him near you; do you understand? This is not negotiable.”
I take pause at his overwhelmingly-protective gesture, and then I slowly nod in agreement. I have no desire to ever see Raymond Michaels, and it feels nice that he’s willing to intervene on my behalf, but the exchange feels odd and puts me on edge.
Pushing aside my unease, I rise up onto my tiptoes and kiss his cheek, taking in his unmistakable smell. The scent calms my nerves and I smile as I pull away.
“Come on, let’s go to bed. There has been enough discussion for tonight,” Brooks says as he kisses my palm. “The only place that I want to be is in bed, with you tucked tightly in my arms.”
I turn to look at my sisters, who whirl around in their chairs and pretend to be in a deep discussion, like they weren’t just spying on my intimate moment with Brooks. I just shake my head. “I’ll talk to you guys more in the morning.”
“Sure, sounds great,” Amanda says.
“It was great to meet you, Brooks,” Charlotte adds. Brooks nods in response, and we both give one last wave before heading through the doorway towards the stairs.
I stop before reaching the stairs, causing Brooks to yank backwards. “Give me a minute, I’ll be right back.
I turn and walk back into the kitchen, gaining the attention of both of my sisters. Charlotte rises from her seat as I cross the distance between us, and I firmly pull her into a warm embrace. “Thank you for coming here. I know that this wasn’t easy for you, and I know that it’s a shock to see a man here with me. But please know, Char, I appreciate that you did this.” I hang on tightly to her, and then give her an extra squeeze before pulling away. “Thank you for being my responsible big sister.”
I give Amanda a wink and make my way back out of the kitchen to find Brooks. Waiting for me where I left him, he leads me upstairs to my room. Once we are behind closed doors, he pulls back the duvet and neither of us bothers with truly readying ourselves for bed. Instead, Brooks strips us both, and we crawl under the covers. Instead of making love, though, Brooks gathers me in his arms and buries his head into my hair. I can feel his warm breath against my neck as he plants soft kisses behind my ear.
“I will never let anything or anyone hurt you, Vivian. I promise you, you are my everything,” he says, squeezing so tightly it becomes hard to breathe.
I wiggle out of his death grip and turn in his arms to look at his perplexed expression. I rub along the scowl lines that have entrenched themselves in his brow. “Shh,” I murmur, “everything is fine; no one is going to hurt me, not even you.”
He kisses my forehead, letting his lips linger. “Promise?” he asks his voice barely noticeable. He is looking for words of comfort.
I wrap my arms around him and let the darkness of the room and the warmth of Brooks’ body possesses me.
Brooks
Fear, an all-encompassing, suffocating, hide-in-the-dark kind of fear has consumed me. It has invaded my subconscious, and everything I find myself doing revolves around a name I thought I would never hear again, Raymond Michaels. I swore to myself and to Vivian I would keep her safe and that I would choose her. I intend to keep that vow, no matter the cost.
The weeks since Charlotte’s arrival have been uneventful in regard to the man that haunts my past. He has been quiet, and went about his new life with little concern for those lives that he impacted 23 years ago. I have kept close tabs on his activity, hiring a private investigator to track his every movement. I refuse to risk the consequences of an accidental meeting. It could cost me everything, and I won’t let him take it away, not again.
My hope has been that he’ll make a dire mistake that will violate his strict parole terms. Him being sent back to a maximum-security facility is more than I could wish for though, so until he fucks it up, like he typically does, I stand back and watch from afar.
She’s guarded. Vivian tries to act carefree and forgiving about the entire situation, but I can tell that it’s a facade. She worries constantly. She’s ventured into Mama Bear protector mode, but with a big giant smile and a sugary ‘I’m fine.’ I don’t buy it for a second.
I have scanned through her computer history searches, and I know she is just as obsessed as I am. Although there wasn’t anything specific to Raymond Michaels, there were plenty of Google searches about parolees contacting victims’ families, and the location of the Greeley halfway house. She could probably get an A on the book report, or arrested for stalking…it can be such a fine line.
I’ve tried to set her mind at rest, but I’m extremely careful not to divulge too much. A detailed explanation would raise questions of history. She has never asked why I pushed her away ten years ago, and I have no intention of telling her. Her being in the dark about it keeps her safe. And, if she found out about the nightmare of my past, my bi
ggest fear of losing her would more than likely become a reality.
There have only been a handful of times in my life when I wasn’t sure what the outcome would be. I am a driven man who goes after what he wants. With my business, if I want things done a certain way, or I need to coerce investors to see a project my way, I win. I always win. When it comes to Vivian, though, she’s a game-changer. She’s the curve ball when you have a full count and are expecting the fastball. I can’t predict how things will play out with her, and it drives me insane.
My auburn-haired beauty and her dusting of freckles bewitched me a decade ago, and I have spent the years since unsuccessfully attempting to expel her from my soul. In the short time since we have reconnected, she has found her way under my skin once more, but instead of trying to scratch her free, this time, I’m willing to use glue, staples, a wedding band, and any adhesive necessary to maintain our seamless bond. I cannot let her leave me.
Vivian is the only woman who I would ever consider marrying; all others have and would always be second-best. So, as I twirl the platinum and diamond ring between my fingers, my plan to make her mine grows. I’ve had the 1920s Pavé masterpiece for over a month. I found it through an antiques dealer that specializes in rare, high-end estate jewelry, and when I saw it, I knew it belonged on her delicate hand. I’ve had to contain myself from slipping it on her finger ever since, but I wanted to wait until Christmas. Since the news of Raymond Michaels hit our radars, though, I’ve had the constant nagging need to not only propose, but also marry her and make her officially, legally mine. I refuse to let her slip from my grasp again. She is mine, and I need it to be known, now more than ever.
My plan is to ask the kids this evening for permission, and then follow through with asking her over a trip to the mountains in two weeks. I know I’m gambling a lot on them not saying anything, but I feel like our kids need to be included in this. I’ve asked Katie to keep all of the kids, and I’ve let Amanda in on my intentions. She was actually supportive instead of serving me my balls–a favorite pastime she picked up from Jen. I reserved a cabin in Telluride for the weekend, and I have planned a romantic getaway for the occasion, which Vivian has no clue about.
When my phone buzzes, alerting me of an incoming message, I gently slide the miniature iceberg back into its box for safekeeping, and tuck it into my jacket pocket. Checking the screen, I see my lovely lady’s name and picture appear, provoking a grin I can’t even try to hide.
Vivian: Be there in 20 minutes, packing overnight bags now.
Me: Drive careful, but hurry. U should never leave my house, my love, and then I would never have to wait.
Vivian: Lol. Good luck with that, my dear sir. I have to come up for air at some point. See you soon!
Brook: Not soon enough, Clover.
Vivian: ☺
I lay my phone on my dresser and call out to Grace. She has been in her room, doing the typical magical princess girl-shit that I pretend to not enjoy. If anyone ever caught me wearing the tiara and feather boa that she demands that I wear during our tea parties, I would never live it down. Lakin already thinks that I’ve become pussified since I started dating Vivian; I couldn’t imagine the ration of shit that he would heap upon me for playing dress-up as well.
Decked out head-to-toe in Cinderella garb stands my three-foot-tall raven-haired beauty queen. Tapping her foot, she makes it obvious that I’ve interrupted something vitally important in the kingdom of Grace. I attempt to hide my amusement, which only serves to agitate my princess.
“What’s so funny, Daddy? The prince was just about to rescue my Barbie.”
I grab her and tickle her sides until her attitude melts into fits of laughter. “Really, is that right?” I say, continuing my attack.
She screams in between giggles, and I finally release her. Grace immediately straightens her gown, and I pick up the tiara that fell to the ground and place it on her head in a very majestic manner that I know she appreciates.
“There, perfect, Princess Grace,” I add with an extra bow.
“You’re so silly, Daddy. What’s up? I really need to go help Barbie.”
I sit down on my bed and pull her onto my lap. “I needed to talk to you about something important before everybody gets here. Besides, I’m sure Barbie can fend for herself. I saw her moves in Toy Story, and she can kick some butt.”
That earns me a heart-melting grin that throws my train of thought off for a second. I’m nervous about her reaction. I need her approval, just as much as I need Blake and Emma’s for my plan to move forward. This little girl is my absolute world. With all of the women that I have used as fillers, Grace has been my constant, and soon I will turn her world upside-down by almost tripling the size of our little family.
“Lovebug, how would you feel if Vivian, Blake, and Emma lived here with us?”
“Like our sleepovers?” she asks as she begins to twist my tie around her tiny fingers.
“Well, kind of, but instead of it being sometimes, they would be here all the time. Emma and Blake would be your new brother and sister.”
Grace drops my tie and looks up at me, her eyes huge and tears building in them. “You mean, Vivian would be my mommy?”
“Would that be okay with you?”
“I’ve never had a mommy; I would love for Vivian to be my mommy,” she says excitedly, but then her enthusiasm dwindles, and she begins to fiddle with my tie again.
I nudge her chin upward. “What’s the matter, baby?”
“It’s just, my own mommy didn’t stay; do you think Vivian would really want me?” I see the quiver in her lip, and I realize just how much I’ve fallen short. No matter how hard I’ve tried, nothing can replace a mother, and my little girl has felt the consequences of those actions. It tears at my heart, and I want more than anything to make this right for her.
“Oh, Lovebug, the woman that had you is not a real mommy.” I kiss her forehead and begin to stroke her silky hair as I try to ease her heartache. “Mommies do the things that Vivian does for Emma and Blake; they take care of their babies. The woman that had you isn’t your mommy, sweetheart. She is the woman who agreed to give me the best gift I’ve ever received. You. But I promise, Grace, Vivian would love to be your mommy, because she wants to take care of you forever.”
“You promise?” she asks; her voice is hopeful once more.
“Yes, baby. Vivian adores you, and she would love to be your mommy. But I don’t want to ask them to be a part of our family unless you want them to be. It has to be okay with you.”
“Are you gonna give her a pretty ring?” her eyes slide sideways, peering just over her lids like she is prepared to interrogate me. Her tiny little teeth reveal themselves past her cherry red lips, and I chuckle at her attempt to grill me.
“Yes, I bought her a ring.” I pull it out of my jacket pocket and crack open the box; the light reflects off the stone, causing glimmers of white sparkles to bounce around the room. Grace inhales sharply and her eyes widen at the sight.
“It’s so sparkly!” she squeals. “She is gonna love it.”
“I hope so,” I say as she runs her pointer finger across the solitaire and down the band, examining each stone.
“Oh yes, she will; it’s so pretty. Will you buy me one, Daddy? My birthday is coming up, or maybe Santa could bring me one.”
“No, honey, these rings are special. When you are old, like forty, you will fall in love with a boy, and if I like him, I’ll let him buy you a ring like this.”
Grace backs away scowling, her nose scrunches in disgust. “No way, boys are gross!” she insists. “They fart all the time and play with bugs. One boy in my class picks his nose and eats it. No, Daddy, I don’t want to fall in love and get a ring from a boy.”
I stand and pat her on the head, thankful for her epiphany about the opposite sex. “Just keep thinking boys are nasty and we will be just fine, kiddo.” I laugh as I snap the box shut and place it back in its protective spot. “Come on, munchkin, the
y will be here soon; let’s get everything ready. And not a word about our conversation; this is supposed to be a special surprise. You can’t tell Blake or Emma, not even Katie, and especially not Vivian. Can you do that?”
“I pinky promise,” she says as she holds out her petite pinky for me to seal the oath.
“Okay, pinky promise. Now let’s get downstairs.”
Vivian
The second we pile through his front door, I can tell that something is off about Brooks. He seems nervous and jittery, he’s fumbling with his words, and he’s constantly rubbing his hands on his pants. I’ve asked him several times if he was feeling sick, but he reassures me that he is fine. I would push him more if it wasn’t for Grace, who has been glued to my side since our arrival. If she isn’t upset, then I figure that whatever is bothering Brooks must not be that big of an issue.
I never imagined when I saw Brooks again that he would have a child, nor did I ever think that I could be someone’s stepmother, but Grace is truly something special. She is sweet and funny, but has these feisty moments laced with attitude and spunk. She is the type of girl that forces a smile on your face no matter the situation. She is the most perfect little girl, and I have fallen in love with her, and if Brooks ever did ask me to marry him, I would be proud to call her my daughter. Blake and Emma both adore her, they and have taken her in as not only a friend, but like a sibling. Seeing the three of them together warms my heart and makes me hopeful about what our future could be like.
I can hear the three of them playing outside from the kitchen where I’m working on dinner. Their giggles filter into the house, creating a hum that’s like soothing music to my ears. After the year that we’ve had, my children are truly happy, and it feels so good to have found that place. I slide the pan full of burritos I had been working on into the oven, when Brooks’ footsteps break through the reverberating stream of laughter.
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