“It’s not about your birthday, but that’s the plan. We’re going to the zoo, and we’ll have cake and presents and a balloon after.”
Maisie was the Turners’ granddaughter and Kelsey’s only real friend. Jenny hadn’t yet figured out why she had trouble making friends. She wasn’t shy, she wasn’t bossy, she wasn’t mean. She could be a little sassy, but that didn’t seem to bother kids. She got along with other kids fine and would talk to any who came up to her. But even when Jenny tried to rig the situation, to start kids at the playground playing a game or something, Kelsey would separate out pretty quickly and play by herself.
Maisie was the exception. She was a few months older, and Mrs. Turner was her full-time babysitter, so she and Kelsey had grown up together.
“Jen!” her father yelled, and Jenny flinched. He sounded like his old self when he yelled her name, although his old self would have yelled her full name if he were angry. She fed him his spoon of grits and got back to thinking about this talk she needed to have.
How to tell her almost-four-year-old about her father? She’d been tearing up her head all day trying to practice and, as usual, her brain refused to do the heavy lifting. Whenever a high-stress problem arose, her mind crossed its arms and turned away with a huff, and she was left flailing. Usually, she ended up squeezing her eyes shut and just jumping in, which she did now.
“It’s about your daddy.”
“I don’t have a daddy. Not all families have daddies. My family has a mommy and a granddaddy.”
Her own words coming back to punch her in the face. “That’s true. If you could have a daddy, would you want one?”
Kelsey set her fork down and looked up at the ceiling. She pinched her little chin in her hand like she was pulling a beard, and Jenny smiled. She’s seen that on television, a character taking that pose to think, and since then, when she had a serious thought to think, she did the same.
“Would he be a daddy like Maisie’s?”
The Turners were African American, as was their son-in-law. Jenny didn’t know if that was what Kelsey meant. It wasn’t easy to know the mind of a preschooler. “What do you mean?”
“He brings the yard eater over to eat our yard after it eats Mr. and Mrs. Turner’s yard, and he takes Maisie to the swings and he sits in back with Mr. Turner and makes hamburgers and has beer. He puts the sprinkler out and we can play in it.”
Jenny laughed. “Yeah, I think he might be like that.”
“Did you meet him?”
“Yeah, pixie. I know him. We loved each other when we made you.”
Kelsey frowned. “But then he went away when I came.”
She’d never said any such thing. She’d never said anything about Maverick except that not all families had daddies. Kelsey had made this leap on her own, and it hurt Jenny’s heart. “He didn’t want to go away, Kelsey. He was really, really sad when he had to. But now he’s back, and he wants to know if you would like to know him.”
“NO!” Jenny’s father shouted forcefully and swung his arm, knocking the spoon to the floor. “NO!”
He stared at Jenny, his eyes steady and fierce, and she knew he understood that they were talking about Maverick being back.
She stared right back and put as much meaning as she could into her eyes. “Calm down, Dad.”
“Granddaddy, it’s okay,” Kelsey said. “I don’t like grits, either.”
After watching her father to be sure the outburst was done, Jenny picked up the spoon and went to wash it in the sink. “What do you think, Kelsey? If you don’t want to meet him, that’s okay.”
Again, she pulled on her chin and looked up at the ceiling. After she’d had her thought, she asked, “Is he nice?”
“I think so, yes. I think he’ll be very nice to you.”
“Is he nice to you? I don’t want a daddy who isn’t nice to my mommy.”
Jenny went and crouched beside her daughter’s chair. “You are a wonderful little person, Kelsey Marie. I love you.”
“I love you, too, Mommy. That’s three.”
“Three, uh-huh. And yes, your daddy is nice to me.”
“Will he come live with us? Maisie’s daddy lives with her and her mommy, and the baby in her mommy’s belly, too.” A new thought happened. “Oh! Will you have a baby in your belly, too? If you do, I want a boy baby.”
“Slow down, pixie.” That was all much more complicated and fraught than Jenny could sort out, and it made her woozy to try. “You haven’t even met him yet. Let’s start there. Would you like to meet him?”
“Okay, if he’s nice. I’m done with my noodles, and I ate three green beans. Can I have a cookie?”
With a relieved laugh, Jenny wrapped her little girl up in a hug. “Yes. Clear your place, and you can have one cookie.” She helped her out of her booster seat.
As Kelsey set her dishes at the sink and picked out a gingersnap from the cookie jar, Jenny sat back at the table.
Her father stared at her with that steady, perceptive look. His breath came loudly and quickly, like a violent pant, and his face was flushed.
She hadn’t seen him truly angry in four years.
She wasn’t afraid of him anymore.
~oOo~
It was a nice house.
A sprawling brick ranch in the middle of a huge yard full of mature trees. His bike was parked on the driveway, next to a new, or new-ish, black Jeep Cherokee. Jenny considered that SUV and wondered if Maverick had other company. That would suck, if he did.
Kelsey tugged on her hand as Jenny led her to the front walk. “Is this his house?”
“I think so, yeah. Do you like it?”
“It’s like a castle.”
It wasn’t—it was just a nice, middle-class brick ranch house in a neighborhood full of nice, middle-class brick ranch houses, but compared to the rundown bungalow they lived in, maybe it was a bit palatial.
Just then, the front door opened, and Maverick stepped out. He wore jeans and a plain white t-shirt, in his usual snug fit. He grinned at them.
Kelsey tugged on her hand again, and Jenny leaned down. “What is it, pix?”
“Mommy, that’s the sad man from school. Miss Betsy said I couldn’t talk to him.”
Crouching to her daughter’s level, Jenny turned her so that they were face to face. “He was a stranger that day. Today, you’re going to meet him. What’s the rule about meeting new people?”
“Be with a grownup I trust.”
“Do you trust me?”
She laughed. “That’s silly. You’re my mommy!”
Jenny laughed a little, too. “So do you?”
Still giggling, Kelsey nodded. “Yeah, silly. I trust you to the moon and back!”
“Okay. Then it’s time to meet your daddy.” Standing up, Jenny took her daughter’s hand again.
Maverick had stayed on the slab porch when they’d paused for their little talk, but as they began to approach him again, he stepped off.
“Hi.” He smiled at Kelsey and crouched to her level. “Hi, Kelsey.”
“Hi, Daddy.”
Jenny’s breath caught—she didn’t know why she was surprised; for the past twenty hours or so, she’d been calling Maverick Kelsey’s daddy, so why wouldn’t she greet him that way? But to hear her say that, with such ease—God.
Maverick took the greeting liked she’d stabbed him with it. All over his face, Jenny could see the raw pain and the struggle for control over his emotions.
Kelsey saw it, too, but she couldn’t understand the reason. “You have sad eyes. Like at school. Are you sad to meet me?”
“No, sweetheart,” he said, trying to smile. “Not at all. I’m happier to meet you than anything. I just—can I give you a hug?”
Kelsey nodded. “I like hugs.” She lifted her arms and went right to him. Maverick pulled her tightly to his chest and tucked her head against his.
Jenny saw tears make wet trails down his cheeks, one from each eye. She hated herself for cutting him out. Whatever her reasons,
right now, standing right here, she knew she’d been wrong.
“I’m sorry, Mav,” she whispered.
He heard her and shook his head. “Doesn’t matter now. It’s okay now.”
When Kelsey began to squirm, Maverick let her go. “You want to come inside?”
“Yeah! Your house is like a castle!” Kelsey took Maverick’s hand—he hadn’t held it out to her, she simply folded her hand over the edge of his, under his thumb. His head jerked down at her touch, and then he glanced at Jenny, like he was guilty.
She liked that bit of deference to her, but it hurt her heart, too. “It’s okay. I’m glad.”
With her blessing, he led Kelsey through the front door, and Jenny followed.
~oOo~
Oh—it was a nice house. And fully decorated. He’d been out of prison for less than a month. How had he acquired so much stuff already? Had he bought it furnished?
Her questions must have been clear on her face, because he answered them. “Mo went on a shopping spree. There’s still a couple of empty rooms, but she got the important stuff done for me. You know how Mo loves to shop.”
The living room was just off the front hall. There was a long, stacked-stone fireplace with a heavy mantelpiece. The furniture was comfortable and masculine, and actually had a bit of Maverick’s personality. Mo had done a good job.
The dining room was empty, but the kitchen had a round oak table and four chairs in a bright bay-window breakfast nook that looked out over the back yard—big and green, with handsome trees making cool shade. A slab patio ran from the back door to the outside edge of the bay window.
Kelsey gasped theatrically. “Mommy, look! A princess house!”
At the back of the yard stood a dainty house, creamy white with pink trim, and even a little porch with a pink railing. A playhouse. The day before, he’d asked about her favorite color and sounded a little disappointed that it wasn’t pink. Jenny thought she now knew why.
“Daddy, is it for me? Can I play in it? My birthday is in four days, you know. I am going to be four years big.” She held up her fingers to show her father.
“I know! The house is for you, but we need to ask your mom if it’s okay to play in it.”
“Mommy, can I play in my new house?”
Jenny stepped around the table and chairs so she could see more of the yard. A tall cedar fence. Well-tended grass. Good shade trees. No sharp fence posts or rocks. “Sure. That sounds fun.”
“Yeah!” Kelsey looked frantically for the door. Maverick chuckled and opened it for her, and she ran out. After a few steps, she spun and ran back, throwing her arms around Maverick’s legs. “Thank you, Daddy!”
Just as quickly, she spun away again and ran to her house. Maverick stood there, his face a portrait of shock and awe.
Again Jenny said, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
Still stunned, he shook his head. Then he blinked and focused on her. “I am, too. I’m not holding a grudge, Jen. I’m just so fucking glad she’s here now. And you, too.”
“You have to watch your language now.” She smiled, wanting him to know she was teasing—and also true.
He laughed. “I guess I do. Hey—can we step away from her for a second? The fence is solid, and the gate’s locked. I want to show you something before I show her. Is that okay?”
Jenny stepped past him to lean out the open door. “Kelsey!”
Kelsey opened a little casement window and peeked her head out. “Yeah, Mommy?”
“I’m going to be inside with your daddy for a few minutes. We’ll leave the door open. You stay in the yard. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am. I’ll stay in the yard. I’m making tea and crumpets!”
Jenny cocked her head at Maverick. “Tea and crumpets?”
She thought he might have blushed. “There’s a kitchen set in there, and a table and chairs, and a little easy chair. It was all set up at the store, and I got everything. Didn’t seem right to give her an empty house. I don’t know about the tea and crumpets.”
“That’s in a book she likes.”
“Shit.” He slapped his forehead. “Books. I didn’t get her any books. Oh—shit, I said shit.”
Jenny laughed. “It’s okay. She loves to go to the library and pick out books to borrow. And she’ll yell at you for using ugly words and mean talk, so be careful.”
“You made a great little girl, Jenny. She’s—she’s amazing.”
“Yeah, she is. I don’t know how much of that’s my doing, though. I’m not Mom of the Year material.”
“I don’t believe that.”
With a shrug, Jenny changed the subject. “What did you want to show me?”
“Yeah. This way.”
When he took her hand, she didn’t pull away.
He led her through the living room and down a long hallway. Several doors lined the hall, all but one of them closed. The open one led to a bathroom, and Jenny noticed a fabric shower curtain and towels hanging on a rod, all in brown and white stripes. Even the bathroom had been carefully decorated.
As they continued down the hallway, the sharp, not-unpleasant scent of latex paint hung in the air. Maverick opened a door, and the scent became instantly stronger. He led her inside.
“Oh my God,” she muttered. “Mav...what did you do?”
He walked around to stand at her other side. It felt like he did that a lot, put himself on her left side. She wondered if it was some kind of prison thing, like a habit he’d built up to keep people on his stronger side.
“I wanted her to have a room here. Of her own. If it’s too soon or too much, I understand. That’s why I wanted you to see it first.”
She was standing in a confection of a little girl’s bedroom. The furniture was simple and white, typical kid furniture, except for the little three-mirror vanity in the corner and the pink puff sitting before it. But the walls were mint green, and the linens had a pink rose pattern with mint green stripes, and the curtains matched. Even the pink mini-blinds in the window matched. A few fluffy pink throw rugs were scattered over the hardwood floor, and there was a toy chest, like a white treasure chest, under the window.
A ring hung from the ceiling, just above the head of the bed. White netting hung down from it and draped over the bed. A canopy. Kelsey’s heart would explode.
“You did all this since yesterday?”
He shook his head. “Since then, I painted and put up the window stuff, and Mo picked up the bedding and rugs. The furniture I’d already bought. And the playhouse was the first thing I did—I built that right after I took possession, before I had anything to move in here.”
Her heart pounded in her ears, drowning out sound or sense. Emotion surged like a tidal wave through her, and she couldn’t hold it back. She put her hands over her mouth as a last resort, but the sobs came anyway.
“It’s too much,” Maverick muttered. “I’m sorry. Goddammit.”
She shook her head, trying to stop. When he put his arms around her, she needed the comfort and didn’t fight it—and she was comforted.
“You bought our house,” she finally choked out against his chest.
“What?”
“When we were looking. This is what we wanted. You have our house.”
His hand smoothed over her hair. “Say the word, babe. One word, and it is our house.”
In that declaration, for the first time since she’d gone to the station, she heard the old Maverick—the one who’d push and push and push until he got his way. The real Maverick. Was all this a show? Had he planned this?
No—that was ridiculous. Not even Maverick would go so far as to buy a house to prove his point. Still, she broke from his hold and sniffed herself calm.
“It’s not that easy.”
She watched him fight not to argue with her—and, to his credit, he succeeded. Ultimately, he simply nodded. “Okay.”
With another wistful look around Kelsey’s dream room, she sighed and faced Maverick again. “It’s beaut
iful, Mav. It’s perfect. But it’s too much. For today, at least—I don’t want to overwhelm her. Or confuse her.” She thought of Kelsey’s questions about where her daddy would live and if she’d have a baby brother. “The playhouse is enough for today.”
“Okay. Fair enough. I got mint chocolate chip ice cream. Can she have that?”
Jenny smiled. “Only if I get some, too.”
~oOo~
That night, before she went to bed, Jenny pushed open Kelsey’s door and leaned against the frame. Kelsey slept in a little ball, with Mr. Spotsie tucked firmly in her arms.
This room had been Jenny’s room when she was a little girl. The walls were covered with the same busy, pink and blue floral wallpaper, and the curtains were the same white, ruffled, dotted Swiss tie-backs. The vinyl pull-down shade was the same. The furniture was different—she still slept in the double bed that had been hers growing up, so Kelsey had a new bed and other pieces—and there was a plush area rug on the floor. The toys were different and more plentiful. And the love was more real. Kelsey’s room was better than her own had been, though they’d both occupied the space within these four walls. But it was nothing like what Maverick had made for her.
This house, this life, was nothing at all like that fantasy Maverick was creating. A fantasy close enough to touch. But a fantasy nonetheless.
It was the life they were supposed to have. The life Jenny had thought she’d have, when she was huge with Kelsey and planning a future with Maverick.
Instead, he’d gone away and left her alone to raise their daughter and care for her father, whom he hadn’t quite killed.
And she’d given birth alone in a hospital room, one floor down from her comatose father’s room, with no hand to hold through her pain and her fear but that of a nurse she’d never met.
August 21, 1993
“No! No! Please! It’s not supposed to be this way! I can’t do this by myself!” Jenny sobbed and wailed. A small voice inside her said she was making everything worse, but the rest of her didn’t care. This hurt, and she was alone, and Maverick was supposed to be here. She was supposed to have a good life ready for her little girl, not this...this hopeless, homeless emptiness.
Slam (The Brazen Bulls MC #3) Page 13