by Unknown
“Well, I’m not letting him in.”
I stand there just as stubbornly as him.
“Please, Marv,” my mother begs. “I don’t want to not know where my baby is again tonight.”
“He can wait outside,” my father persists.
“With all due respect, Sir,” Dan’s respectful response has an undertone of command. “But she’s not stepping a foot in that house without me.”
My father’s chest rises, “Boy, you don’t get to make that choice. She’s my daughter.”
“I don’t care,” Dan states. “I’ve seen how you treat those you’re supposed to love. I’m here to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
My dad huffs, his anger rising, “She doesn’t need a bodyguard. I’m her father and I can deal with her any way I deem fit.”
“Not anymore.”
They are practically chest-to-chest and I step between them. “If you won’t let us in, then we can talk out here,” I wave my hand at the yard. Mrs. Fickler is already spying through her blinds from across the street.
“Fine,” my father grinds out as he shifts to the side, barely making enough space for us to get through.
My hand is itching to hold Dan’s, but I know it’s better not to. Someday, but not today. I don’t want to give my poor Dad a stroke; he already seems halfway there.
Chelsea is rounding up the kids and leading them to play in the backyard as the rest of us take a seat in the living room.
My parents go on one side. I take the opposite, with Danny next to me. Lauren forces her way onto my other side. Of course she does; she’s probably going to try and scold me too.
“Lauren,” my dad orders. “This is going to be private.”
“I’m sorry Dad, but I’m staying.” She grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. “For Hannah. She needs someone on her side.”
A stare at her, completely flabbergasted.
“We’ll discuss this later,” our father addresses sternly, but Lauren doesn’t cower back like I would have. She’s always been stronger than me.
My dad starts right in. “I’ve talked to the Nelson’s and they understand that this has been a trying week for you, with Mrs. Fraser’s death on top of planning a wedding the past couple months. They have agreed to look past this little mishap.”
I sigh. How many times will we have this conversation before it gets through to him? “I told you yesterday, Dad–”
“No,” he interrupts. “Think before you speak. This is not how I raised you.”
He’s right, it’s not, but that doesn’t change anything. “I came to tell you that I’ll be staying with Sam. You have her number. You can call any–”
“Absolutely not,” my father interrupts again. “You live here.”
“Dad, please listen to me.”
“Will you be marrying Josh?”
“No.”
“Then I have nothing to listen to.”
Man, he’s stubborn.
“You are disgracing this house, our family name.”
He may see it that way and some people at our church might as well, but that’s not my burden to bear. You should never let what others think of you define you and your happiness. I’m glad I found that out sooner rather than later.
I throw my hands up and let them slap my thighs in frustration, “I guess we’re at an impasse. You want a life for me that I don’t want–”
“A respectable one–”
“Stop interrupting me!” I snap, shock registering on everyone’s faces. “I love you. I love Mom. I love my siblings. I will always have a place for God in my heart and in my life, but it’s not going to be your way. It’s going to be mine. My terms, my life.”
“Out of all my children, you have always been the easy one,” my dad sputters. “But now? You are a disgrace.”
“That sucks, Dad–”
“Hannah!” My mom gasps in horror. “Language.”
“Well it does, and I hope one day you might come around to respecting my choices, but until then–” I stand up to leave, the conversation draining me, “–I’ll stay in touch.”
“You will not leave,” my father barks.
“I have no choice. Not when it’s your way or no way.”
“Please, Hannah,” my mom begs. “Think this through.”
I let out an exhausted sigh, “Believe me, I have. Do you think I want to hurt my family?”
My father waves his hand in the direction of the door. “Just go,” he says, slouching back into his seat.
“Marv,” my mother pleads, her eyes darting back and forth between us. I can see how torn she is and I sympathize for her.
“She’s made her choice.” My father doesn’t seem to share that same sympathy.
“You have Sam’s number,” I remind her. “Call me.” I know she won’t; not without my father’s permission, which I know he will never grant.
“I knew I should never have let you hang around that hooligan,” my father angrily says to the room.
I can’t let it slide this time. I’m tired of not sticking up for Sam. “You don’t even know her. She saved me.”
“Jesus saved you!”
“I know, Dad, but people can save you too.” The Shepards are proof of that.
I get nothing more from him and I know it’s time to leave. Lauren follows us out and gives me a hug. “I meant it. If you need anything, you know where I live.”
I’m overcome with the love I never knew she felt. “Thank you,” I say from my heart.
I try not to be hurt that my mom didn’t at least give me a hug.
Once we’re back inside Danny’s truck, I let out one big whoosh of air and collapse back into the seat, completely spent.
Dan takes my hand, “You all right?”
“I’m getting there.”
“Man, your dad’s stubborn.”
That he is.
“I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, I’m a little proud of myself too.”
He kisses my hand, “You should be.”
We buckle our belts and I bring up our next conquest, “You know what we have to do next, right?”
Dan starts the engine, “What?”
“Talk to Sam.”
“Yeah. Think she’s going to try and get violent?”
“With you? Yes,” I laugh. “You set the precedent, remember?”
He cringes, “I was pretty hypocritical.” He scans my body with heated eyes and I flush. “But first I want you in my bed.”
I’m not going to fight him on that.
To our complete surprise, we see Tag’s matching work truck parked out front.
Dan turns to me, skeptical, “Did you know about this?”
“Nope.”
He takes my hand and we are cautious as we open the door to the house, not sure what to expect.
The whole gang is there, lounging around watching television.
“Dude!” Price exclaims, “Die Hard marathon. You’re missing it. Chinese is on the way.”
Nobody even mentions or seems to care about our entwined hands.
We raise our eyebrows at each other.
Sam is cuddling in Tag’s arm on the couch, nursing a beer. On the coffee table there is an open can of root beer and a beer, condensation rolling down them.
We remain cautious as we take our seats. I take note that Sam is looking at our hands that have remained together. Dan lazily slings an arm around me.
I try to get Sam’s attention. She ignores me, pretending to watch the movie, but I know she can’t be.
“Do you hate me?” I ask softly.
“A little.”
She doesn’t say more and words fail me. I chew on my lip while I continue to stare at her, trying to conjure up the perfect thing to say.
She talks to the television, “You promised.”
My stomach churns. “I know.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I had wanted it for such a long time that I thought it w
as too good to be true, and honestly I didn’t think anything would ever come of it.”
She finally gives me her attention, and the betrayal in her pale blue eyes makes me wish she was still looking at the TV. “You still should have told me.”
“Yeah,” I agree. “I should have.”
“He called me last night and explained.”
“He did? When?”
Dan reaches for his beer, “You were asleep.”
I look over to him only to realize the whole room is listening, a commercial for teeth whitening playing in the background.
“What’d you say?”
He takes a swig of his drink, “That’s private.”
My mouth drops open and I point to my chest, “From me?”
He casually shrugs like I’m not dying to know what it is.
“Yeah,” Sam nudges me. “It’s private sister-brother stuff.”
“You won’t even tell me?”
Now she’s taking enjoyment that I so obviously want to know. “Nope.”
Humpf. I cross my arms and pretend to be engrossed in the movie.
Sam leans closer to my ear, “He loves you.”
I smile, “He tell you that?”
She smirks, taking glee that she can hold this over my head, “Among other things.”
“Are ever going to tell me?”
“In due time. I feel this is my revenge for you not telling me.”
Fair enough, but I still pout while I go back to watching the movie.
“I’ll tell you one thing.” Sam smiles a smile that lets me know she might actually be happy for us. “Everyone deserves to have someone that loves them as much as Danny loves you.”
“I bet I love you more,” Tag defends, giving her a kiss.
“Doubtful,” Danny scoffs.
Tag moves like he’s about to get up, “I’ll fight you.”
Dan rises with him, “Let’s go.”
They shove each other from across the couch until some of Sam’s beer spills over her hand and she yells at them to knock it off. They laugh and drop back on the couch.
“Besides,” Sam links arms with me, “Who better to have as a sister than your very bestest friend?”
Happiness overcomes me, and even though I’m in no rush to marry, I know I’ve found who I want to spend the rest of my life with.
I snuggle into Danny the way I’ve always dreamed about and look around at my family, knowing I’m exactly where I belong.
Epilogue
Danny pokes his head into my sewing room, “We’re going to be late.”
I continue working while I talk, “I know, I’m almost done.”
“You said that twenty minutes ago.”
He’s right, I did. I just get so wrapped up in my work that I lose track of time.
“Okay.” I reluctantly get up and stare longingly at the top I’ve almost finished.
The weekend after leaving my parents and moving in with the Shepard’s, Danny cleared out half of his room and surprised me with a sewing station. The machine was old and used to the point I spent just as much time repairing it as I did using it, but I loved it. I still have it displayed for nostalgic reasons. Since the moment I got it I’ve been obsessed with bringing my sketches to life. I even have a successful Etsy shop, just like Dan predicted I would. I had no idea there were so many women interested in more modest, yet stylish clothing. It’s not my parents’ form of modesty, but my designs never show cleavage and all the dresses and skirts extend past the knee. The local paper even wrote about me and how my pieces were “modern, yet keep the class of the forties and fifties.” Dan has that article proudly displayed in his office.
Danny and I are married, and thanks to his ever growing landscaping business and my Etsy shop we were able to buy a house that granted me my own room. It allowed me to work harder, and now I even have some seamstresses I contract to help me out.
I follow Danny outside and he stops to kiss me before locking the front door, “I already loaded the kids up.”
The windows are rolled down and I can see our thirteen-year-old daughter, Faith, who is our third born, with her nose in a book. That’s how she’s been since learning to read in Kindergarten. Sometimes I worry that she’s letting too much of her life pass by while she reads about fictional ones.
Our eight-year-old daughter, Alice, is bouncing in her seat. She hates being still. Her pale blue eyes meet mine, “Come on, Mom. I’ll be dead before we get to the game!”
I laugh as I hop into our SUV and Danny begins the short drive to the high school where our oldest, Samuel, is about to have his first game of the season. Our second born, Haven, is there as well, having gotten a ride with Price’s daughter, Karen, who is her best friend.
That’s right, we have four children. Once the first popped out and I experienced the unconditional love and happiness a child can bring, I knew I wanted a dozen more. We settled on four.
Cool air rushes through the open window and I yank out my ponytail. My hair’s cut just above my breasts now, so it isn’t short but it doesn’t weigh me down as much either. I love the feeling of it blowing in the wind, strands whipping me in the face.
As soon as the engine stops in the parking lot, Alice jumps out and races for the field. Faith follows behind, somehow able to walk (mostly; she does trip often) and read at the same time.
The bleachers are already packed and I shield my eyes from the sun while I scan the crowd.
Sam’s arms flail about above her so Danny and I can see her in the crowd.
We climb up the seats to get to our crew that has been waiting for us.
“Watch out,” Danny chuckles behind me. I turn my head to see him take hold of Faith’s arm to prevent her from tripping right between the cracks of the stands. She’s unfazed as she keeps reading.
We take our spots next to Sam and Tag. I spot Alice running up and down the stairs with her best friend, Tuesday, who happens to be North’s daughter and has the same fiery-red hair he does. He met a girl in Vegas, married her that weekend, and they have been happily together ever since. Go figure. They also have an older boy on the baseball team with Samuel. They are sitting in front of us with the twins and their wives. Their sons are also on the field. Jerry is here to watch his son too, but he and his wife divorced last year.
“Where’s Haven?” I ask Dan, looking around.
“Where do you think?” He nods in the direction of the dugout, where sure enough our fifteen-year-old daughter is. Everyone says she is a carbon copy of me, except when it comes to personality; she was born super outgoing and rebellious. At the moment she is flirting with the team, mostly Maddox’s son, Reese. Reese is his only child (well, the only one that he knows about). Maddox is still a player; as though to prove it, he’s off to the side flirting with some poor, defenseless mom who is eating up the attention. Reese is following in his footsteps, and Samuel has already had to warn him away from his sisters, but we all know how well that works.
It has me thinking of Danny and I. I eventually found out what Danny had told Sam. I was sneaky one night and fed her too much wine. She said he basically told her how he felt every time I walked into a room and what it did to him every time I was close, and how it made him feel when I had chosen a life with him. She wouldn’t go into more detail, but it was enough for me to melt like it was another hot summer night and not a cold night in February.
The game begins and Samuel and Daniel fist bump. Daniel is Tag and Sam’s first child. They were born four days apart and are inseparable, both inheriting their father’s good looks that get them attention everywhere they go.
Samuel shifts his baseball cap around to the back. He got his first cap from his dad when he was two and has worn them that way ever since.
Reese will be up to bat first, so he’s off to the side warming up his swing. I notice out of the corner of my eye Faith is peeking at him over her book, a pinkish-red blossoming her perfect skin.
I nudge Danny, who looks over and sco
wls. “Never going to happen.”
“I was that age when I fell in love with you,” I remind him.
A snarl shapes his lips, “I can’t believe I was their age when I first wanted you. Our daughter looks so young. I was a fucking pervert.”
I laugh, “It’s not like you did anything about it.”
He grunts, “Yeah, but I sure as hell thought about it.”
Hmm, he has a point. Maybe I should be a bit more worried myself.
Jerry mumbles to us out of the side of his mouth, “Don’t look now, but your parents are here.”
My head snaps in the direction he’s looking, and sure enough they are. I had called the other day to invite them, but they had made excuses. I guess they changed their minds.
I wave. My father doesn’t respond, but my mother smiles.
They don’t sit with us. They’ve never accepted that I chose Danny for a husband or the kind of people we associate with, but once we had kids they tried a little more to be part of my life. It still hurts, but at least they don’t treat my children like lepers. They even encourage us to stop by on Christmas. I’m close with my sisters and their families though, so at least I still have that.
Unfortunately, Angie is no longer with us. She died of lung cancer a few years after Danny and I got married. It was a hard time for the Shepards. Danny was the hardest on himself through it all. It was a rough year for him during her treatment, and again after she died, but we grew stronger as a couple from it. Danny got to see all of his boys and their families pitching in to help with whatever they could, making us even more aware of how important they all were to our lives and how family isn’t always blood-related. Because of her death, he doesn’t smoke anymore and gets checkups obsessively, waking up in a cold sweat sometimes that it will happen to him too.
“It’s freaky how much Sam and Dan look like Danny and Tag when they were that age,” Sam remarks after she sees them motion to each other from across the field.
“It really is,” I reply. They’re practically replicas of their fathers.
I notice both Haven and Faith keep looking to Reese. Not good.
I check on Alice, who is still happily running around with Tuesday.
Danny leans forward on his knees, absorbed in the game. After it’s over, he and Samuel will talk obsessively about how everything played out, the good parts and the bad.