Deepest Desire

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Deepest Desire Page 28

by Weston Parker


  My wife smiled. “I love you too,” she said.

  Skylar

  Greyson cleared his throat behind me to get my attention as I drained water out of the crock-pot. “Hang on a second,” I said as steam rose out of the sink. I plugged the machine back in and seasoned the pork with more sage, salt and pepper. Then I put the lid back on and turned to face my husband.

  He was grinning like a fool with his hands clasped behind his back and had Gwen sitting on the kitchen island in front of him. She was sucking on two of her fingers and watching me with her big green eyes as she leaned back against her daddy’s stomach. Her dark lashes cast shadows across her plump pink cheeks as I soaked in the sight of her.

  Greyson had dressed her to match him. He was wearing a sweatshirt that read ‘World’s Greatest Dad’, and Gwen was wearing one that said ‘World’s Greatest Daughter’. The sweatshirts were gray with black font, and Greyson had even gone to the trouble of putting black leggings on our baby to match his black jeans.

  “When did you buy those?” I asked, unable to stop the smile that was creeping across my face.

  “I ordered them. They just arrived yesterday and I was waiting for the right occasion.” Greyson withdrew his hands from behind his back to reveal another folded up gray sweatshirt.

  My smile stretched even wider as I grabbed it from him and let it fall open. “You bought me one too?”

  Greyson nodded. “Of course I did.”

  My sweatshirt read ‘World’s Greatest Wife & Mother’. I shamelessly pulled my shirt over my head and slipped into the sweatshirt. “I love it,” I said, walking around the island to kiss Greyson.

  He looked down at my blue jeans. “You should change your pants so we all match.”

  “Are you trying to impress Meek or something?” I teased.

  “No. Maybe. I was going to ask him to take a picture of us.”

  I rolled my eyes. “And I have to be wearing black too? Don’t you think you’re being a bit of a control freak?”

  “A little bit, but deep down you know you want to do it.”

  I considered his words.

  “Fine,” I said, narrowing my eyes at him when he started to smile. “I’ll go change.”

  After changing into my leggings to match my husband and daughter, I returned to the kitchen and resumed preparing dinner while Greyson played with Gwen.

  Meek knocked on the front door shortly after and let himself in. He called hello down the hallway and we hollered for him to meet us in the kitchen. When he emerged from the hallway he had a purple gift bag in one hand and a bottle of red wine in the other.

  “You didn’t need to bring any wine,” Greyson said as he took the bottle from his friend. “You know how much we always have lying around.”

  “I couldn’t show up empty handed, not when Skylar is cooking dinner. It smells amazing in here,” Meek said.

  “Thank you, Meek,” I said over my shoulder as I added a sweet brown sugar and balsamic reduction to the pork in the crock-pot. “Make yourself comfortable. We’ll be ready to eat in half an hour or so. Greyson, could you open the wine and pour us all a glass?”

  “Sure thing,” Greyson said, and then he handed Gwen off to Meek, who held her like he was holding a bomb that was set to detonate at any second.

  “Uh,” Meek stuttered, “Make it snappy, will you Greyson?”

  Greyson chuckled as he grabbed a corkscrew from one of the kitchen drawers. “You’re going to have to get used to holding her sometime, Meek. It’s been six months. She can’t still scare you that much. She’s not as fragile now.”

  “I still suspect dropping her would be a bad idea,” Meek said.

  “Please don’t drop her,” I said over my shoulder again.

  “I don’t plan to, but babies are unpredictable. And so squirmy. You can’t trust them,” Meek said.

  I laughed and stirred the contents in the crock-pot. “You can’t trust them? She’s a baby, Meek. She doesn’t have a devious bone in her body, unlike her father. Now is the time to trust her. It’s only going to get worse.”

  “I used to lie about brushing my teeth when I was a kid,” Meek mumbled. “I hated toothpaste. I think I went two weeks without brushing before my mom caught me. So you two have that kind of nonsense to look forward to.”

  Greyson scrunched up his nose as he poured three glasses of wine. “You’re sick.”

  “I was a kid. Kids are sick. Keep up.”

  Greyson shrugged and slid a glass of wine to Meek, who stared at it, and then looked back at Gwen, who was still half standing on Meek’s lap with his hands supporting her under her armpits. Greyson stepped forward and took her from him.

  “Thank you,” Meek said.

  I turned back to the island and took my wine. I sipped it, savoring the earthy, fruity flavor before sighing contently and watching Greyson bounce Gwen in one arm as he drank his wine. He was a natural at this whole father thing.

  Everything he did with Gwen looked so natural. She was always calm around him and he had an uncanny knack for being able to stop her crying fits faster than I could, which was equally as wonderful as it was infuriating. I had a sneaking suspicion that the first word Gwen would speak would be ‘DaDa’ or ‘Daddy’. That day was probably just around the corner, and I was so excited to hear it. I also suspected Greyson might cry, which would be something I could hold over his head every time he boasted about being able to calm Gwen and claimed to be the ‘Baby Whisperer’.

  As dinner time drew closer Greyson fed Gwen and made sure she had a clean diaper. Then he put her down to nap in the crib we kept on the main floor of the house. This way we didn’t have to have a baby monitor nearby as we sat with company, and sometimes when Gwen woke up she was content to lay in her crib and listen to us talk.

  Greyson put her down as I served the meal. Meek took his seat at the table with us and we all tucked in to enjoy the meal.

  “So,” I said after swallowing my first bite, “How are things going at The Citrine? Any big changes?”

  Meek shrugged as he chewed. When he swallowed he took a sip of wine. “Well, I have some news, actually.”

  “Oh?” Greyson said, resting his cutlery on the edge of his plate.

  Meek nodded. “Bravo promoted me. You know I’ve been spending most of my time helping him get situated. It’s been a bit of a roller coaster teaching a mob boss ethical business… it took him a while to see the logic in handling disputes with communication rather than violence.”

  “I can see that happening,” Greyson mumbled.

  “His willingness to use physical strength as a first option of dealing with theft or cheating made me realize how well you ran the business, Greyson,” Meek said honestly. “You avoided a lot of drama and potentially bad publicity by keeping everything on the down low.”

  Greyson shrugged but didn’t say anything.

  “But Bravo has come around to see the wisdom in how The Citrine operates. He made me head of security and gave me full control of handling all altercations or issues on the property. He stays out of it because he has a temper.”

  “You used to have a temper, Meek,” Greyson pointed out.

  “Yes, but someone showed me that anger and brashness isn’t always the best way to solve a problem. Sometimes you just need to talk to people. Sometimes compromise is better than winning.”

  Greyson’s eyebrows crept up towards his hairline.

  Meek blushed.

  I sipped my wine and watched the two men. They were practically brothers, but honest praise and recognition like this didn’t happen very often. I could see that Greyson was appreciative of Meek’s words, but seemed a little unsure of what to say. So I stepped in to help guide the conversation along.

  “That’s great that Bravo sees your worth, Meek. He knows how valuable you are, just like Greyson did. You’re still happy there? That’s the most important part.”

  Meek nodded at me and smiled. “Yes, actually. It’s been great. I mean, of course I wish Gr
eyson would come back, because there was nothing better than working with my best friend. But I know you have a daughter now, and I know how precious time is with her. I couldn’t expect you to forsake that just for a casino.”

  “I could visit more often,” Greyson said.

  “You could,” Meek agreed, “But you won’t, and that’s okay. This is where you should be. With your daughter, and your wife- who cooks a mean pulled pork. This is delicious, Skylar. Thank you.”

  I smiled under the flattery. “I’m glad you like it.”

  We spent the rest of the evening chatting about the casino and some of the changes Bravo had made. Greyson was happy to hear there hadn’t been many. Topics shifted all over the place after that, from talking about Gwen to my sister to a surprising date Meek had gone on the previous weekend with a girl named Charlene. Apparently the date had gone well, and after much prying Greyson forced Meek to spill the beans that he was going out with her again the following weekend.

  When we walked Meek out Greyson hollered after him to call and report back about how the date went. Meek flatly told him that he would be doing no such thing.

  After locking up the house Greyson and I sat in the living room with Gwen. She drank a bottle of formula while sitting in my lap, and we indulged in watching some television while we played with her for an hour.

  When Gwen started dozing off we put her to bed together, and then walked hand in hand down the hall to our bedroom. We left the door open to hear Gwen in the night, and went about brushing our teeth and getting ready for bed. Greyson beat me to it and watched me from bed while I washed my face and applied my moisturizer.

  “Are you coming to bed, or what?” He called, rubbing the open space beside him in the bed.

  “I’m almost ready,” I said as I applied a lip balm. Then I hurried over to the bed and climbed under the blankets beside my husband.

  Greyson leaned over and turned off the lamp on his night stand, and we were plunged into cozy darkness. I snuggled up beside him and rested my cheek on his chest. He sighed deeply and wrapped an arm around me. Then, as always, he traced his thumb in circles over my bare shoulder.

  “Tonight was fun,” I said.

  “It was,” he agreed.

  “And it seems like Meek is doing well.”

  “He is, isn’t he? I’m happy for him. I wasn’t sure how it was all going to work out for him after I left. I felt a bit guilty about abandoning him.”

  “You didn’t abandon him,” I said, “He knows that.”

  Greyson shrugged beneath me. “I hope so.”

  We were quiet for a couple minutes. I listened to Greyson breathe and knew he hadn’t closed his eyes yet. “Can I ask you something?”

  “Of course,” he said, his thumb falling still on my shoulder.

  “Do you miss the casino? If you ever wanted to go back we could find a way to make it work. Even if you just went back part time. Bravo said you could any time you wanted.”

  “Skylar,” Greyson said, his voice confident and firm, “I don’t miss it. I’m right where I want to be with you and Gwen. I’m happy with my life. I’m happier than I’ve ever been.”

  I smiled into his chest and bit my lip. “Good. Me too.”

  It warmed my heart to hear his reminder of how much he wanted to be home with me and Gwen. His life had shifted a lot since he met me, and sometimes my mind terrorized me with thoughts that one day he might realize he wanted his old life back. But every time I asked him his answer was the same, and he never showed any sign of wanting to go back to the casino. I believed him. He was happy here.

  His thumb resumed its swirling on my shoulder and I closed my eyes as his heart beat beneath my ear.

  Greyson

  It was hard not to laugh at Skylar as she struggled to blow up what must have been the fiftieth purple balloon in the package. Her cheeks expanded like a puffer fish and her eyes went wide as she pushed as much air as she possibly could out of her lungs and through the tiny opening of the balloon. She pinched it closed and took a few quick breaths before committing to it again and finishing off the balloon. Then she tied it and let it fall to the floor with the forty nine others she and I had already done.

  “Okay, no more,” she said breathlessly. “I think I’m going to pass out if I keep going.”

  “Want to sit down for a minute?” I suggested.

  Skylar shook her head and tightened her ponytail at the top of her head. “No, no time. I still have to make the punch and ice the cupcakes before we go to the airport. I don’t know where the morning went.” She pressed the back of her hand to her forehead as she looked around the living room.

  We had spent the last four hours decorating for Gwen’s first birthday. There were helium balloons in the corners in the shapes of babies and the giant number ‘1’. Purple and pink streamers hung from all the beams on the ceilings, and sparkly confetti was all over the place. It looked like a fairy had flown through the place and vomited glitter everywhere.

  “Don’t stress,” I said, reaching out and taking her hands in mine. “Everything is perfect. Everyone will have a good time. What can I do? How about I ice the cupcakes?”

  Skylar chewed the inside of her cheek as she looked up at me. I could tell that she was clearly not okay with the idea of me icing the cupcakes.

  “Okay,” I said slowly, “How about I make the punch? Is there a recipe?”

  Skylar nodded.

  “Okay. I’ll do the punch. You do the cupcakes. Whoever finishes first gets Gwen up from her nap and changes and feeds her. Then we hit the airport. It will all work out.”

  Skylar nodded to herself. “You’re right. Okay. Let’s do this.” She clapped her hands together like she was the coach of a high school basketball team. “Go!”

  We both hurried into the kitchen. Skylar found me the punch recipe and I set to mixing all the ingredients in a massive pink glass bowl. I hadn’t realized what I was getting myself into, and soon found myself standing and cutting oranges and strawberries to drop into the punch.

  Skylar finished icing the cupcakes before I finished the punch and she went to get Gwen. I listened to her talk to the baby as she changed her upstairs, and then she came down to feed her. While she did that I set up the car seat in the backseat of the car and loaded it up with the diaper bag.

  “We should be ready to go,” I said, glancing at my wristwatch. “And we have six minutes to spare. Look at that. We’re pros.”

  Skylar smiled and blew a loose strand of hair out of her face. Her cheeks were flushed as she lifted Gwen up, planted a kiss on her forehead, and then grabbed her purse. “Let’s go then.”

  The drive to the airport was short. Gwen enjoyed being in the car and was only fussy when we took her out. She squirmed and grunted a bit while we waited for Renee in the airport, but once she was out of her carrier and in Skylar’s arms she settled down. Skylar bounced her on her hip as we waited for her sister to arrive.

  I saw her coming and nudged Skylar with my elbow. “I see her, just through there.” I pointed between the shoulders of a young couple ahead of us, and then flagged Renee down.

  She grinned when she saw me and hurried towards us. She let go of her luggage and rushed forward with outstretched arms.

  Naturally, she went to Gwen first.

  “Hello my favorite niece!” Gwen cried, taking her from Skylar. “Oh my goodness you’re getting heavy! Look at you, you big birthday girl. I can’t believe you’re one already!” Renee looked up at us. “Hi guys, thanks for picking me up.” She leaned in and hugged Skylar, and then me.

  “I hate to rush you,” Skylar said, “But we have to get back to the house. People will be arriving for the party in less than an hour.”

  “Cutting it a little close, no?” Renee asked as she play-tickled Gwen, who laughed hysterically.

  I grabbed Renee’s bags. “A little. I had no idea what I was getting myself into with this whole birthday party thing. Your sister went a little nuts.”

 
Skylar glared at me.

  “With the decorations and stuff, not actually nuts,” I amended quickly.

  “Right,” Skylar said, the corner of her mouth twitching with a smile she was trying to hide.

  We arrived back at the house with fifteen minutes to spare. Renee dumped her bags in the spare bedroom and rushed to step in and help with all the last minute party stuff. She set the cupcakes out on a tray and grabbed all the food we had prepared the night before from the fridge. She uncovered all the platters and set them out on the dining room table.

  She also placed napkins and plates out, as well as cutlery. She put her hands on her hips when she was done and nodded confidently to herself. “There,” she said, “We’re good to go. Right?”

  Skylar looked around while gnawing on her bottom lip anxiously. “I think so. Greyson, is anything missing? Did we forget anything?”

  “Don’t think so, babe. It looks great. Everyone will have a great time.” I reached for a strawberry on one of the fruit platters and Renee slapped my hand away. “Ouch,” I said, pulling my hand away and cupping it to my chest. “That’s my food, you know. I paid for it.”

  “No touching before the party starts. You’ll ruin the presentation,” Renee said.

  “One strawberry will ruin the presentation?”

  “It could,” Renee said.

  “Party planning is clearly a sensitive matter for the Lindell women,” I said, “So I’m just going to stand in the corner and wait for people to show up. I’m afraid to do something wrong.”

  “At least you’re a fast learner,” Renee joked before sticking her tongue out at me.

  I was relieved when the party guests started to arrive, because my stomach was growling and the food laid out on the table all looked so good. There was a spinach dip, nachos, crab dip, fruit and veggie platters, a meat platter, and a variety of other snack foods.

  It was way too much food for the few close friends we had invited to celebrate Gwen’s first birthday with us.

 

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