by Lynn Rider
“I’m sorry guys you went through that without me.”
“He wouldn’t have gone through it if we were with you. She smokes all the time. The kids at school pick on me because I smell like cigarettes,” Matt says, angrily.
“I’m sorry.” I wrap my arms around their shoulders, wishing there was something I could do to fix this.
We ride in silence to the other side of town. When we climb from the truck, Smith shakes his head, silently telling me to go in without him. The hostess gives me the once-over, but with my mind and body belonging to only Mia, I ignore her and settle into the booth.
The waitress comes over, takes our order, and walks away. “I have a couple of things I want to talk to you about,” I say and both sets of eyes peer up at me from across the table.
“I know it seems hopeless, but I promise, it’s going to get better. The three of us having dinner is only the first step. I’m not stopping here. Michelle already knows I’m fighting what she did and as much as it pains me to ask you this, if she does anything you’re not comfortable with, you need to talk to me. Send me a text if you can’t. You still have your tablets, right?”
“Yeah,” Brandon says sadly.
“Keep them hidden so she doesn’t know and if something like last night happens, text me.” I’ve had to replace those tablets too many times to count over the years. Not knowing what Michelle’s vice is, I’m worried she’ll take them. My mother pawned so many, I lost count.
“I talked to my friend Dillon and he said he just told the judge what parent he wanted to live with and it worked. I know you’re not our parent, but couldn’t we just talk to a judge and tell them?” Matt asks.
“I’m sure a judge will listen, but that doesn’t guarantee they’ll do what you say though.”
“Why? She didn’t even know what to do when Brandon had his asthma attack last night. She lit another cigarette as he was gasping for air,” Matt’s voice cracks, showing the emotion he’s been trying to hold back. I know he’s being strong for Brandon and I feel enormous fucking guilt that he has to carry that burden when he’s just a kid himself.
“Hey, it’s okay,” I say reassuringly, as much for my benefit as theirs. I’ve seen several people have asthma attacks, Brandon included. They’re scary as hell. “You know what to do, but if it gets too bad, tell her to call 9-1-1. Soon this will be over and you’ll be with me, but I’ll get new phones to each of you. Okay?”
“I just want to go back to your house.”
“Me too,” Brandon adds.
“I want that too, guys, but we have to wait until it goes through the court system.” I sigh, hating the word wait. It’s almost as grating as I’m just doing my job. I’m so close to having them, but so far away. The idea of dropping them back off to her hell-hole while I return to my nice house, doesn’t seem fair.
“How’s school going?”
“Brandon’s getting bad grades,” Matt says looking over at his brother and Brandon shoots a disgusted look back.
“Brandon,” I say questionably, my eyes flitting to his downfallen gaze.
I’m really not surprised and feel at a loss to do much about it. He’s only eight and so much has gone on in the last month. Matt’s older, saw through our parent’s shit, having some understanding of the fucked up, flawed people they were and I still worry about how he’s dealing with their death. Brandon wasn’t there yet, he lost his parent’s, been forced to live with a relative stranger and I feel like a helpless slouch because there’s not a God damned thing I can do about it.
I sigh, giving up on lecturing him. “I know this has been hard on both of you. I get it. I’m doing everything I can to get you back, but I need you to do your best at school and not let all that has happened get in the way. I know it’s hard, buddy,” I say the last softly in Brandon’s direction. “Will you try harder?”
“I need help. I don’t understand it.”
I look to Matt and ask, “Does Michelle help?”
Both boys scoff. “She may stand over us, drinking a beer and smoking a cigarette, but she can hardly read,” Matt says.
“Hey, that’s not something to pick on her about,” I say, knowing I’d be in the same boat if not for Vic. That’s exactly why they go to private school. Matt throws a surprised look my direction before frowning and sitting back in his chair with a pout. “I’m not taking her side. It’s just that we don’t pick on someone because of what they have or don’t. That includes knowledge.” Matt’s eyes look up and he nods, telling me he understands. Things come easy for Matt, Brandon, not so much. I’ve had to explain that to Matt a number of times over the years, but given the situation, I can’t blame him for casting his anger somewhere.
“Okay, I’ll talk to my attorney and tell him what you’re telling me. I’m sorry. I didn’t expect it to go this way. Is she at least taking you to counseling?” Matt has a standing weekly appointment and Brandon, two appointments a week. Shirley set it up for us the day after we left the police station.
Both boys shake their heads. “She said I only need to go once,” Brandon says and an immediate anger swirls through me. I take one of those deep fucking breaths that I’d come so accustom to using with my mother before forcing myself to think about something happy.
Mia.
“I need to tell you about someone.” I say, changing the subject to calmer waters.
Matt’s light eyes peer at me curiously. “I have a new friend and she moved into my house.”
“Like a girlfriend?” Matt asks, surprising me.
“Yes, exactly like that.”
“Girls suck!” Brandon shouts and several people look over at our table.
Matt blushes red with embarrassment. “Brandon, be quiet,” he seethes, quietly.
“No, they do suck! You said we could get a dog. Girls don’t like dogs. Mom wouldn’t let us get a dog and Aunt Michelle won’t get one either. Why can’t it just be us? The three of us?” He cries and I blow out a heavy breath. Mia was right…this introduction wouldn’t have been fair to anyone. Especially her.
“Brandon, not all girls dislike dogs. In fact, I’m pretty certain she once had a dog. I think I saw a picture of her and one somewhere.” He finishes his sob and then lifts his chin, wiping his cheeks with the cuff of his shirt.
“Really? Was it a big dog or a little dog?”
I smile, but his frown deepens.
This is really a big issue for him.
“I think it was a medium-sized dog. He wasn’t big like a Doberman, but he wasn’t one of those little yippy dogs either.”
His head bounces, as if he’s soaking in the idea. “What color was it?” he asks and I’m reminded of his age. When you grow up like we did, you tend to see and know things most normal kids your age wouldn’t. When Brandon asks simple questions, it gives me hope that he’s not completely warped by all those things.
“Brown, but it doesn’t really matter what color her dog was. What you need to be worried about is what color your dog is going to be,” I say matter-of-fact and his lips quirk in a faint smile. “I told you that we’d get a dog and I’m going to keep my promise. Mia isn’t going to stop that.”
“Her name is Mia?” Matt asks.
“Yes.”
“Is she supposed to be like our mom when we move back in?” he asks.
“No, we don’t need another mom. We had a mom!” Brandon says, too loudly again and garnering more attention.
“She’s not going to be your mom, any more than I’ll be your dad. But just like with me, you will have to listen to her at times. She’s really nice. You’re going to love her.”
“Do you love her?” Matt asks, his green eyes wide. I’m not sure where he’s getting so smart, but he’s knows a hell of a lot more than I’ve given him credit for.
My eyes dart to Brandon’s, finding the same expectant look on his face. ‘I’d give you a home like the one I grew up in…that’s what I’d give you, if I could…Tell me about your day…’
&
nbsp; “I think I might,” I finally reply after pushing the memory aside and Brandon’s eyes fill with tears. The waitress slides our dinner on the table and both boys just look at their plates.
“If you want her to move out, she will.” Both sets of eyes land on me. “She told me if you didn’t want her there, she would find somewhere to live. She wants you two to be happy.”
“She said that?” Brandon asks and I nod.
“Is she really nice?” Matt asks.
“Very nice. She can cook really good, too.”
“That’s good because your cooking tastes like shit,” Brandon says and I smile, happy for the first time ever at hearing a curse word come from his little mouth.
Smith and I carry the boys to the front door of Michelle’s house. Being up late with Brandon’s asthma attack and then up early this morning for school, both passed out in SUV on the way back from the restaurant.
“You’re going to keep your cool, right?” Smith asks as we approach the dark house.
“I feel like we’ve had this conversation before,” I say dryly, not excited at all about dropping them off here.
He whacks his big knuckles on the door and we wait in the dark. With no outside lights, it’s easy to see there are no lights on inside either. Smith looks over at me, making a what in the hell face and I shrug. He bangs again, this time with the flattened edge of his fist and both boys stir on our shoulders.
Nothing.
I blow out a steamy breath and walk back to Smith’s SUV. We put the boys in the backseat and call Michelle’s phone.
No answer.
I’m tempted to get in the truck and go home, leaving this bitch and her games to herself, but think better of it and call Edward instead. “Chance, everything okay with Michelle?” he answers right away.
“No, we have a problem.” His heavy sigh blows through the line. “I picked up the boys for dinner. The agreement was we’d be back at eight. It’s eight and she’s not here,” I say, pacing.
“Call the police. Do not leave with those boys until they’ve come and documented that she’s not there at the designated drop off time.”
“This is ridiculous, Edward.”
“I’m serious, Chance. Don’t get in that car with those boys until you’ve had a policeman dispatched. She may be just at the store, but it’s a safer route than having her use that against us. We still haven’t figured out what she wants.”
That’s exactly what I was hoping to find out tonight. If it was money, I was willing to write her a damn check and pack Matt and Brandon’s shit right then.
“All right, I’m calling them now.”
“Let me know if you need me.”
“Thanks,” I say before disconnecting and quickly look up the non-emergency number for the police department. I walk back to Smith with my phone to my ear. “I’m calling the police to document she’s not here and then we’re bringing them home.”
32
Mia
I feel helpless watching as Chance paces the length of his office. “Edward, the police took over an hour to get there and she still didn’t come home,” he says forcefully before going silent again.
Last night he and Smith carried two adorable, but exhausted, little boys into the house. They hardly registered where they were before resting their heads back on the big shoulders of the guys as they were carried upstairs to bed.
When Chance came down, he gave me a quick run-down that Michelle wasn’t there when they returned, the police were called and now the boys are here, where he intends on keeping them.
“Fuck no, I’m not filing a missing person’s report. The bitch can stay missing for all I care. I want it moved up the docket or whatever the fuck you call it.” His voice is stern, and if I’m being honest, it’s not a tone I’d want to be on the receiving end of. “Yeah, let me know.” He slides his phone back into his jeans and looks my way.
“You okay?” I ask, closing the distance between us. He wraps his arms around me and rests his chin on the top of my hair.
“He’s going to talk to the judge today and see what we can do.” He blows out a heavy sigh and I bury deeper against his body, tightening my hold.
“So, what’s next?” I ask.
“I need to make breakfast and call Vic. I don’t have the boys’ uniforms for school and I think it’s better they don’t go today. I’ll call the headmaster and tell them what’s going on. He’s been more than accommodating through all this shit.” He steps back, cradling his hands on my face. “Thank you. For everything, Mia.”
I snort. “I haven’t done anything. I wish I could.”
“You’re here and you don’t know how much that means to me. And you got up at the ass crack of dawn for me,” he grins before kissing my forehead. I close my eyes, enjoying the little flutters that ignite every time his lips touch me.
“I’ll make breakfast. You make your calls.” I kiss the corner of his mouth and slip out of the office and into the dark hallway. My breath catches when I look across the large living area and notice one little person sitting at the kitchen counter. I consider turning around and running for Chance, but my steps continue forward.
Chance was exhausted when he got home last night. We only talked about the situation with his aunt before he folded me in his arms and we both fell asleep. He never mentioned if he told the boys about me and at the time it didn’t seem important, but as I quietly approach the little dark-headed boy, eating cookies at five-thirty in the morning, it suddenly feels like something I wished we’d talked about.
Last night, when the boys were being carried in, one’s legs dangled longer than the other’s, but what set them apart was one was blonde and the other dark-headed, like Chance. Which one is which, Chance never said. I take a deep breath with a long slow exhale, readying myself to find out.
“Hello,” I say quietly walking the opposite length of the island. He jumps and my eyes fall to the way he’s clutching the package of cookies to his chest. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Mia,” I say, softly, not moving.
“I know your name,” he says and a sense of relief washes over me until I see he hasn’t released his hold on the cookies. My heart cracks just a little, wondering if this is what it is like for them.
“What are you eating there?” He looks down, tightening his grip. “Oatmeal cookies?” I glance at the package clutched tightly in his hands. “Those are okay, if you like borderline healthy cookies.” I shrug with a small smile. “I like mine with chocolate. I have chocolate chip in the cabinet. Would you like one?” His grip slowly loosens, but his eyes watch me warily. “They’re my favorite kind.” I walk slowly toward the cabinet and grab the red package from the shelf. “You can’t tell Chance. He’s not allowed to eat stuff like this when he’s training, okay?” I say, softening my tone as if it’s a real secret. I open the package and slide the plastic tray out. I pluck two from the line and hand them over.
“Are they crunchy?” he finally speaks, eyeing the cookie.
I shake my head. “No, they’re the chewy kind. Do you prefer the crunchy kind?” He shrugs, taking them from my hand and biting into both at the same time. “Do you like them?” He nods, looking down at the package. “How about two more cookies and then you let me cook you a real breakfast?” I bargain and he nods again, taking the two cookies.
I make quick work at getting out the pans and food from the refrigerator. I expect him to run away at any moment, but he sits quietly, watching me, much like I’ve learned to expect from Chance.
“Hello, I’m Matt,” a little voice says over my shoulder. I turn to face a smiling little blond boy. His green eyes are the exact replica of Chance’s, but with the light hair and heavy splattering of freckles over his nose, the similarities stop there.
“Hi Matt, I’m Mia.” I step over and shake his extended hand. Quite the little man.
“Chance told us about you. Says you live here. Do you think we’ll be able to live here now?” he asks, sliding onto a stool next
to Brandon.
“If your brother has anything to do with it, you will. In fact, he’s in his office right now talking to whoever will listen to get you stay, but even if you don’t stay today, he’s doing everything in his power to make that happen soon.”
“Will you help us to live here?” Brandon asks. His dark eyes watch me, his expression wary, telling me there’s more fear of me than I have of him. And that’s saying a lot.
“Of course. This is your home,” I say confidently, looking him in the eyes. His gaze falls to the counter and I’m not so sure he believes me. “Do you guys want some milk or orange juice? There isn’t much else to drink, but we can go to the store later and you can tell me what you like.”
“Hey boys!” Chance enters the room and I silently sigh with relief. Both boys jump from their stools and run toward him. He grabs each boy with one of his big arms and swings them around as if they weigh nothing while they both giggle and I smile, loving the vision and sound.
Chance walks over and lets the boys loose near the stools they’d leapt from. “I guess you guys met Mia.” Chance surprises me when he pulls me against his chest and kisses the top of my head. Both boys stay quiet, eyes glued to us and I feel awkward, wishing I could break free of his hold and run away.
“She said she was going to cook breakfast.” Brandon says, giving me a reason to step from Chance’s hold.
“Yeah, don’t interrupt the cook,” I tease, swatting him away and making a break for the walk-in pantry.
“Are we going to have to go back?” Matt asks.
“I’m afraid so, buddy, but like I said last night, I’m working on making this permanent.”
“When is she moving out?” I freeze at the tone of Brandon’s question. Chance doesn’t reply, or at least, I can’t hear it.
I take another deep breath and force a smile. “Are eggs, bacon, and toast okay for everyone?” I start before stepping out of the pantry, making my return known.
“Sounds great, babe.” Chance says with a smile.