by JA Huss
“What should we do?” Oliver asks.
Shit, I forgot about the kid.
“I dunno. You decide, Five.”
“Well,” I say, my eyes darting around downtown Fort Collins. It’s beautiful at Christmas. The main street shops are decked out with lights. There’s a Santa Claus over there. Crowds of people are milling about, trying to get some last-minute gifts from the little shops that line College Avenue. And at night… Jesus, don’t get me started. This place is magical when it’s lit up at night. Then the smell of lunch at Anna Ameci’s invades my senses, and I look across the street. “Let’s get lunch first. Come on,” I say, pulling her along. She grabs Oliver’s hand and pulls him along too.
We cross the street and make our way towards the restaurant. Anna Ameci’s is packed. They have a bakery in the back that you get to through the alley, but on Christmas Eve there are so many people lined up to get cookies and stuff, they take over the front too.
I keep a tight hold on Rory’s hand and lead her and Oliver through the crowd until we reach the hostess.
“Hey, you guys,” Rose Ameci says as we walk up. We’ve gone to school with her for as long as I can remember. “You here for lunch?”
“Yes,” I say. “Table for three.”
“I thought you guys go to Vail for Christmas?”
“We do,” Oliver says. “But we’re pulling a Ferris Bueller today.”
I look down at Oliver. “What do you know about Ferris Bueller?”
“Ronin had an Eighties day at the theater last summer and he’s been obsessed with Ferris ever since,” Princess says. “You missed it. You were at college last summer.”
I frown, but Rose laughs and says, “Well, I’ll help you out and give you the works.” She winks at me and I look over at Rory. Rose had a thing for me back in elementary school.
But Rory plays it cool and says, “Thanks, Rose. Five and I are celebrating our engagement today.” She holds up her bouquet of flowers. “I caught it. Which means we’re destined to be married.”
I might blush at that.
She squeezes my hand again.
“They’re gonna kiss tonight,” Oliver says. “My dad is going to kill him afterward, but it will be worth it.”
“Oliver,” Rory squeals. But when she looks at me, her ears are a little pink.
God, my life would be complete if I could end this day with a kiss from Rory.
Rose gives us a huff for that last remark, but she does lead us over to the best table in the restaurant. It overlooks the street, and we have a full view of all the festive decorations and people in downtown.
I pull out Rory’s chair and she sits, glancing up at me with a smile. Oliver takes the seat next to her and I sit across, so I never have to take my eyes off her as we start our first date.
“What else should we do with our day?” Oliver asks.
“What should we do, Five?” Rory asks, smiling that smile that has lit up my life for as long as I can remember. “Make it good,” she says. “Make it count. Make me never forget it, so that when you leave me behind next month, I have this day to remember you by.”
My heart hurts a little just thinking about leaving. I swallow hard. “We could go on a carriage ride around downtown.” She loves horses.
“Yes,” she whispers. “That’s perfect.”
“And then…” I rack my brain for more ideas on the perfect date. “And then we could go ice skating on the little rink they put near the Santa Claus house in the shopping district.”
“I want to see Santa Claus!” Oliver squeals. “Can we stop and see Santa Claus?”
“Sure,” I say, never taking my eyes off my princess. “And then we can stop at that art gallery they have on Mountain and College. I hear there’s a new exhibit.”
“I’d love that. My mom’s been talking about it all week.”
“And then we’ll get that present for the Bomb and maybe it will be dark early tonight, and we’ll get to see the lights come on?”
“I love the lights at Christmas,” Rory says, her gaze wistfully redirecting to the decorations outside.
“Me too,” Oliver says.
“It’s going to be the perfect day, Five,” Rory says, bringing her attention back to me.
“I’ll make sure it is,” I say back. And maybe, just maybe, we will have our first kiss. Maybe it will even be out under the lights. Maybe we’ll stand right in front of the town Christmas tree.
Maybe.
Chapter Ten
“What the hell is he doing?” I ask Kate as I ski up to her. I’ve been looking for them for over an hour. “And why the fuck didn’t he text me back? I’ve been messaging him for like forty-five minutes.” I stop and stare at Ford. “Is he…”
“Signing autographs,” Kate answers, staring down at a clipboard. “Yup,” she says with a small chuckle.
“Why?” I ask.
“Oh, he’s running an advanced freestyle ski class today and we only had six spots for that. But I added a meet-and-greet to the Kickstarter.”
“Wait a minute.” I feel like I’m living in an alternate reality. “Ford has a Kickstarter? Why? That bastard has more millions hidden away than he can count.”
“Oh, not for him.” Kate finally gives me her attention. “For me. So I can make money to buy a car.”
“And Ford was on board with this?” I can only shake my head. “Is he drunk?” He better not be drunk when he’s taking care of my kid.
“No.” She laughs. “But he’s enjoying it. And he could hardly say no when I told him how much money I raised. The kids are taking a break, so he’s doing the meet-and-greet while they grab drinks. Starling is with—oh, there she is. Starling!” Kate yells. And then Star sees me and starts skiing over to us.
“Hey, Daddy!” she says, her cheeks bright red from the cold. “When did you get here?”
“Just now,” I say, smiling down at her. “Are you having fun?”
“Yes. Are you going to stay and watch me?” She sips her hot chocolate.
“Absolutely. Your mom says you’re doing some special stuff up here. I’ve been missing it, I guess. Sorry about that.”
“That’s OK,” she says. “You’re busy with work.”
“Ronin,” Ford says, skiing over to us after breaking away from his fans. I don’t even know how to process that. “I didn’t expect to see you here today.”
“Yeah, well.” I huff out some air, then look at Kate. “Rook says Starling is…” I have to stop talking because I don’t know enough to even ask the right question.
“Kicking ass on the slopes?” Ford fills in. “You bet. You miss every competition. Did you realize that?”
“What? How did I not know she was competing?”
“I guess you take Sparrow to ballet on Saturdays?” Ford shrugs. “But she’s been in three so far this year. You didn’t miss much last year.”
“Wait, she competed last year?” No. That’s not possible.
“Just little shit. I took her with me because even Rook was busy last winter. But this year, she’s hardcore, Ronin. A little phenom. Anyway, my kids are back from their break. Starling is just hanging out with us for another two hours, then I’m going to take her down the terrain run and time her.”
And then Ford skis off to ‘his kids.’
I look down at Kate, but she’s busy with her clipboard. So what can I do? I watch my daughter ski her little heart out while Ford barks orders at kids who eat up every word.
“He’s a coach?”
“He is now,” Kate says. “I knew he’d love it. But he’d never agree to it if I asked. He’s too modest.”
I almost choke.
“Every parent here has asked for private lessons. But we don’t have time for that. We’ll do groups, just like this. Oh,” she says, looking down at her clipboard. “It’s three-fifty an hour for Starling, but I’ll give you a twenty percent family discount. That cool?”
I’m silent as I take all this in. And then I turn to l
ook at Kate again. “Do you think I work too much?”
“Um…” She laughs. “Well, do you want the truth? Or do you want me to make you feel better?”
“The truth, Kate. Do you think I work too much?”
“Well, you never come to the slopes, but Rook doesn’t come either. And you do go to the horse shows. So that’s a tick mark in your plus column.”
“Are you doing that photoshoot for the equestrian catalog?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Ford’s OK with that?”
“Why wouldn’t he be?” she says absently, making a notation on her clipboard about a kid who goes flying by us.
“Well, it’s modeling.”
She shrugs. “We only want to do it for the horses, Ronin. Sparrow knew you’d hate it, that’s why she only asked Rook.”
“Rook told her yes.”
“I know.” Kate smiles up at me. God, when did she get so big? And she’s only a few years older than Sparrow. Rook was right. I’m missing this shit. I’m missing out on their childhood. And we’re not having any more kids, so this is it. Starling is six now, so it feels like I have such a long time to enjoy them later. But it feels like Sparrow was just turning six and now she’s dancing in The Nutcracker and getting modeling offers, and talking about becoming a veterinarian.
How does the time fly by so fast?
I ponder that in mostly silence as I watch Kate watch the kids. I watch Starling too, but she’s just messing around, waiting for Ford to be done so he can take her down that terrain run. I can ski, but I’m not great at it like Ford is. I manage, and really, I only come to the slopes to drink in the bar or hit the hot springs with Rook after we’re done.
But fuck it. When all those kids are done and Starling is looking at Ford like he’s the god of skiing, I suck it up and join them.
I fall on my ass, my face, twist an ankle going over the bars, try a three-sixty and eat snow, then a one-eighty and decide I should be wearing a helmet if I want to live through this little experiment.
But I realize something as we go down that hill over and over again, until the lights come on and I remember I have another daughter who wants my attention tonight.
I realize I’ve fucked up. I’m missing it. I work too much and play too little.
And I’m going to change that this year. I’m going to partake. I’m going to be invested. I’m going to enjoy it.
Chapter Eleven
“Well?” Kate asks, as all the girls jump out of the car and run up to the house. “Did you have fun today, Daddy?”
I give her a sly look, but she shoots me one back. “You don’t need to Daddy me, Duchess. I had fun.”
“I knew it.” She laughs. “I knew you’d enjoy it. So you’re gonna give a few of them a spot in the regular class, right?”
“Hey, don’t get ahead of yourself. I told them I’d consider it. And I will. But I need to talk it over with your mom. See what she thinks about this.”
“Well, I think,” Kate says as she opens her door and starts to get out of the car, “that you stopped producing shows last year because you’re bored. So why not do this, Dad? These kids are good. You should make a documentary about them. About skiing. Do something artsy for a while, you know? Just relax a little and have fun.”
She pauses after her little daughter speech and gives me a warm smile.
“Maybe, Katie. Maybe I will.”
And then she nods and gets out, closing her door behind her.
But the door opens again and Ronin gets in. “Hey, man,” Ronin says, rubbing his hands together to warm them up. “Do you think I work too much?”
“What?”
“Work too much. Rook thinks I work too much, and I have to admit, I never thought I did until she brought it up this morning. And then when I realized Starling was doing all this ski stuff, and I had no idea about any of it, it dawned on me that she might be right. Do you think I work too much?”
“We all work too much, Ronin. That’s the kind of guys we are. Spencer would be at his shop seven days a week if he didn’t have the garage at home to keep him busy. Your film festival is just starting to really gain international attention. And I took my family to New Zealand to film every January for almost a decade. We love our jobs, what can we say?”
“Yeah, but we live in town. I live four blocks from my work. And I had no idea Starling was so interested in skiing, let alone so good at it.”
I shrug. “Do you want me to help you feel guilty, Ronin? Because I’d be more than happy to do that for you.”
He ignores my dig. “And do you think I’m unreasonable about not wanting Sparrow to model? I mean, you saw my life. You saw what happened to Rook. What if Sparrow’s good at it? What if they like her? What if she gets more jobs? She says she wants to be a veterinarian now, but what if those offers come in and she sees the fame, and the money, and the travel?”
“Hmm.” I can see his point. In fact, I’m on his side on this. I don’t mind Kate doing the shoot with Rory and Sparrow, but I know for certain Kate has no interest beyond the horses. She’s so much like me, it’s hard to remember I adopted her. She has a life plan. She’s got her college all picked out. We’ve had interviews with them. Hell, she’s been working for Ronin in the marketing department for the FoCo Film Festival for two years now. This modeling gig is what cheering at a football game is to Rory. It’s what app development is to Five. It’s the T-ball Starling does, and the riding lessons for Belle and Jasmine. Hobbies.
But Sparrow is strikingly beautiful. She is practically Rook’s twin. If I were Ronin, I’d be worried too. She will be noticed the moment her headshot hits the agencies, if only for who she is. The niece of Antoine Chaput. The daughter of Ronin Flynn.
“Ford?” Ronin asks when I don’t continue. “How do I handle it?”
“I think Rook wants to believe in Sparrow, Ronin. I think Rook knows the two of you started your adult lives the wrong way. You had a rough beginning and then Antoine was not exactly the typical American Dream, right? Erotic modeling? And Rook was married young and had all that drama she needed to get away from. Hell, all of us had unusual opportunities when we were teenagers and we made some bad decisions. So I think Rook looks at Sparrow as an opportunity to do it right. Let her have that. Maybe Sparrow becomes a model, but maybe all she wants is a chance to sit on a horse in thousand-dollar boots and get her picture in a catalog? You won’t have a say in any of it in a few more years. Better to let her figure it out now than take a job when she’s eighteen and unprepared.”
He sighs again. “How did they grow up so fast?”
“God, I have no idea. But I’ve been thinking about it all day. Do you think Ashleigh wants another baby?”
Ronin laughs. “Only for like the past ten years.”
“What?”
“You didn’t notice?” He’s grinning like the old Ronin, the one who has life by the horns and misses nothing. “Didn’t you see the way she looked at Starling when she was born? And the way she looked at Oliver and Ariel. But you guys were the perfect family, right? One boy, one girl, that pack of dogs. What more could you ask for? I mean, Spencer was trying for a boy, but he just had one Princess Shrike after another.”
We both laugh as we picture Spencer with all his little girls. Dressing them up in biker jackets and boots. Making them little Shrike Trikes for Christmas and birthdays. Teaching them how to change the oil while the cameras rolled for the TV show, or choose the right tailpipe for the design he was working on.
“I guess I should give Ash what she needs, right?” I look at Ronin.
He lets out a long breath and looks out the window. “I guess I need to do the same for Rook,” he says back.
We get out of my car and walk up to the massive double front doors to the mansion. “Good talk, man,” Ronin says as I pull one door open.
“Right, good talk.”
We are accosted with the smell of food the second we enter, and then the noise, and my pack of face-eater dogs.
Maybe I have so many dogs to take my mind off the children I was afraid to have?
The bustle of the families we’ve created over the years brings me out of my funk and I look around and enjoy it. Spencer is slow-dancing with Ronnie in front of the fireplace. Rook is lining cookies up on the long dining room table so the kids can decorate them like we do every Christmas Eve. And Ashleigh is standing in front of the fifteen-foot-tall Christmas tree, backlit by bright lights, watching me come into the fray.
I smile at her as I take off my coat and hang it over a chair in the foyer.
She shrugs, like she’s apologizing for wanting something she shouldn’t.
I walk over and take her hand, give it a kiss. “I missed you today, Mrs. Aston.”
Her face crumples a little and she looks like she might cry. But she doesn’t. She holds it together and leans up on her tiptoes in a way that reminds me of another mountain house, in what seems like another lifetime. “I have something to tell you,” she whispers as she kisses my cheek.
I pull her into a hug, knowing full well what she wants to tell me. She’s not done mothering. She’s not ready for kids in college. She needs another baby. And she’s afraid to tell me that because I was so worried about me, so worried about what sort of genetic contribution another child of mine might get, that I never once thought about what she was giving up to ease my concerns.
But we both stay silent and enjoy the peace we have. We just dance alongside Ronnie and Spence to Silent Night, our feet slow and our hearts full.
And then I glance up at Spencer and find a confused look on his face. “What’s wrong?” I ask.
“Where the hell are Rory and Oliver?”
“Shit,” Ashleigh says. “Fucking Five.”
Chapter Twelve
I hold Rory’s hand as Oliver finally gets his turn at Santa Claus. He’s rattling off gifts like he’s got a catalog in front of him.
“And I want a bike, just like my dad’s,” he says.