Bonus Kisses

by Freya Barker

  “Shouldn’t you call Mom back?” she blurts out suddenly.

  My eyes shoot up to find her face flushed and her teeth nervously biting that lush bottom lip. Fuck, I want to kiss her again, but I’m not sure kissing will be enough. I’m afraid if I even touch her, I’ll lose all control. With the kids upstairs in their beds, there is no way I dare take that chance.

  So instead of doing what my body is begging for, I close my eyes and sigh deeply. “Probably.”

  I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Sarah and Ed’s number.

  “And?” Sarah says answering the phone. Clearly she’s been waiting for my call.

  “Spencer is about to burst out of his skin at the prospect of sleeping in the RV.”

  “I knew he’d like it. What about my granddaughter?”

  I sneak a peek at Taz before I answer. “A little more reserved, but Taz talked to her when she was tucking her in, and apparently she’s warming up to the idea.” I wait out a pregnant pause before prompting, “Mom?”

  “She talked to Taz?”

  “She did. I even heard her giggle. Haven’t heard that in a long time.”

  I share a smile with Taz, who doesn’t bother hiding this conversation has her full attention.

  “That’s…” Sarah falls silent again as she seems to struggle to find the right word, before finally settling on, “…good.”

  “Yes. Anyway, Taz mentioned you might have some pictures to show the kids? Of the farm? I think it might help if they had an idea what to expect.”

  Taz’s eyes narrow, and realizing I just gave away I was listening in; I shrug my shoulders.

  “I do, actually. I think I have an album in the guest room somewhere. I’ll dig them up when I’m getting the room ready for Taz.”

  It’s my turn to pause as I try to wrap my head around her comment and look questioningly at Taz. “Why does she need your guest room?”

  “Well,” she huffs. “She can look after our place. It’s not like you need her there without the kids to look after.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Rafe

  “You don’t understand,” Taz hisses at me, so the kids won’t hear over their Saturday morning cartoons.

  We’re arguing. Again.

  We’ve done little else in the last week and a half whenever we find ourselves alone. The subject is the same every time.

  Ever since I informed her Sarah is expecting her to stay at their house, Taz has been in a state. I think it’s ridiculous for her to move to her parents’ house while they’re gone.

  I’ve tried pointing out it makes more sense to stop by a few times to water the two and a half plants they own and take in the mail, when there are two puppies to look after here, but she’s worried the neighbors will know if she’s not there every day and report to her mother.

  Then I suggested to simply let them know beforehand she’s staying here for the dogs, but she’s convinced her mother will see right through her. When I remind her it’s common sense, she gets mad and tells me I don’t understand. Like now.

  I bang my head against the kitchen cupboard, frustrated, before turning to face her.

  “Here’s what I understand,” I tell her in a low voice. “You have been in a state of panic for well over a week, over something that has an easy solution. Every day that has passed only made it harder to fix. Now, do you want to stay at their house? Water their plants? Run from me?” Her eyes flare at that. “Because if that is what you want, you should probably go. But if not, then I don’t get why—for someone who’s never been afraid of confrontation—you’re suddenly allowing yourself to be manipulated into this ridiculous scenario.”

  I can tell she’s pissed. She’s glaring and trying to stare me down, but I’m determined to have this out today, before they leave in the morning, so I don’t give an inch.

  “I want to stay here,” she finally shares, but before I can ask her if that was so hard to admit, she adds, “but I can’t tell her that.”

  “Why?” I don’t bother keeping the exasperation from my voice.

  “Because she’s already suspicious. She wouldn’t have forced this arrangement if she wasn’t. Anything I come up with at this point simply plays into what she already believes of me. I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

  I’m starting to get the picture. This is about more than just the current predicament.

  “Natasha, we’ve done nothing wrong,” I quickly reassure her. “You’ve done nothing wrong. Not now, and not back then.” I can tell from the way she averts her eyes I hit the nail on the head.

  “I can’t tell her, Rafe.”

  I round the island and cup her face in my hands, tilting it up. “Then I will. Let it be on me. You’ve carried the blame for things you were never guilty of long enough. I’m calling her.”

  “No, Rafe…”

  I press a kiss to her forehead and pull out my phone.

  “Rafe—” I silence her by pressing my fingers against her lips.

  “Mom? Hi. Listen, I finally had a chance to discuss things with Taz, and she’s going to be staying here. We have our hands full training these two pups, so it makes more sense this way. We’ll make sure your mail and plants are taken care of though.”

  I can read the nervous anticipation on Taz’s face as I listen to her mom.

  “Well, if you’re sure. I thought it might be easier for you.”

  “Positive. It makes far more sense for her to stay right here at home.”

  I choose my words for the express purpose of letting Sarah know the lay of the land. This is her home now. Taz drops her forehead to my chest and I slip my hand under her heavy hair, resting it in her neck.

  “Okay then,” Sarah says in my ear. “Are you dropping the kids off tomorrow morning or should we swing by?”

  “Maybe it makes more sense to swing by, that way we can load their stuff straight into the RV.”

  “Sounds good. See you around ten, okay?”

  “Ten is fine. See you then.”

  I drop the phone down on the counter and rub my other hand along Taz’s spine as she lifts her face up. “Everything okay?”

  I grin down at her. “Everything’s fine.”

  “What do we need rubber boots for? They’re ugly.”

  Taz turns around in her seat at Sofie’s snippy question. “You’ll be glad for them when you get to the farm. Trust me on this.”

  I pull into an empty spot and before I even turn off the engine, Taz is already out of the truck and claiming a shopping cart someone left in the middle of the parking lot.

  The boots are only one of the reasons she wanted to go to the Walmart in Mountain View today. A store I would normally not be caught dead in—in fact, I don’t think I’ve ever been to this one—but after finally settling our argument this morning, I’m not about to rock the boat again.

  According to Taz, the kids will need the before-mentioned rubber boots, some rough and tumble clothes, and a few other things. The woman has an entire fucking list. I expect we’ll be here for a while.

  I’m lost the moment I walk into the cavernous store, but Taz seems to know exactly where she’s going, pushing that cart with purpose as the kids and I follow a little slower behind.

  Halfway through what is turning out to be more of a sprint than a marathon, Spencer announces he’s tired and I lift him on my shoulders. Luckily, Sofie’s no longer complaining, in fact, she seems to enjoy picking clothes for her and her brother a little too much. I shoot off a silent thanks we don’t have Walmart in Eminence, because I can see this becoming her new hobby.

  “Good thing you seem to know what you’re doing,” I mention, as Taz tosses sunscreen and toothpaste on top of the pile of clothes in the cart. The kids now down the aisle picking out new toothbrushes. “I would’ve been lost. I take it you like shopping?”

  She looks over her shoulder to make sure the kids are out of earshot before leaning close and hissing. “I fucking hate it—a colonoscopy is more appealing
to me—but if it has to get done, might as well get it done quickly and efficiently.”

  “So noted.”

  I grin as she swings the cart around and goes to collect the kids, who seem to have made their selections, before aiming for the cash register. Yes.

  “I forgot something,” Taz announces when the cashier is scanning the last few items. “Why don’t you go ahead and load up the car, I’ll be right behind you.”

  “I’ll come with you,” Sofie offers, but Taz shakes her head, bending close to my daughter.

  “Honey, I’m afraid your dad will get lost. One of us has to be in charge here.”

  Sofie snickers and I wonder when I became the butt of jokes.

  Taz

  “You looked like twins.”

  Sofie drags her finger over the picture.

  She’s snuggled up beside me on the couch, where we’ve been flipping through some of the old albums Mom dropped off earlier in the week. Spencer lost interest after about five minutes and is currently running off the pizza dinner with the dogs and Rafe outside.

  It’s been a hectic day, with the shopping trip to Mountain View, a week’s worth of laundry, and getting the kids packed for their trip. Pizza had been Rafe’s idea and was loudly approved of. It was my niece who noticed the stack of albums still sitting untouched in the living room.

  “We did look alike, although, I was always a bit shorter than your mom.”

  She flips another page and I smile at the next picture. Nicky and I were in our Sunday best—I can’t have been much older than Sofie is now—and already our personalities were shining through. Nicky looked impeccable, her hair still in the pretty bow Mom had fastened that morning before church, and her dress crisp and clean. I—on the other hand—am grinning widely at the camera, my own bow drooping somewhere around my ear, my face grimy, and mud dripping from the bottom of my dress. I remember Dad laughing and grabbing for the camera even as Mom was having a conniption fit when she saw me.

  “What happened to you?” Sofie asks.

  “I remember we were going to church. Grandma had asked us to wait outside by the car. I think it was a bunny or something that darted under the fence. I tried to go after it, but I got stuck, so Grandpa had to pull me out. I was a mess, as you can see.”

  I can feel her eyes studying me as I let the bittersweet memories play out in my mind. “Did you always want to be different?” she suddenly asks, and I turn to look at her, a little taken aback by the question. I take a moment to think before I answer.

  “No, I don’t think I did. Not back then. I just…was. Growing up, I remember I wanted nothing more than to be like your mom. I looked up to her. It took me a very long time to figure out I had to be my own person.”

  “Is that why you left?”

  “How did you get so smart?” I tug her against me and rest my chin on her head. “It’s probably part of the reason.”

  “Didn’t you miss Mom?”

  I squeeze my eyes shut and inhale the scent of Sofie’s clean hair. She smells like Nicky and suddenly tears burn behind my eyelids. “Very much,” I confess. “But she was starting a whole new life with your dad, and you on the way. I had to make a life of my own.”

  Sofie is quiet for a moment before she asks softly, “Are you going back? To your life in Africa?”

  I twist in my seat, lift her chin with a finger, and touch her nose with mine. “No, honey. I’m staying,” I tell her firmly. “I’m not sure what the future looks like, but I know I want you and your brother in my life. I want to see you grow up, knowing your mom would be so proud of you every step of the way.”

  I slip my arm back around her, resting my cheek against her head. With my other hand, I flip another page in the album.

  A picture of Nicky and me in front of a few grazing horses, a large red barn in the background, with our arms wrapped tightly around each other.

  “That’s the farm, behind us.”

  “I miss her,” Sofie says with a sniffle.

  I press a kiss to her hair before echoing, “I miss her too.”

  I hadn’t noticed anyone coming in, but apparently they did. Rafe is suddenly crouching down in front of his daughter, while Spencer leans against his father’s back. Rafe’s face is soft as he brushes the pad of his thumb over her cheek.

  “Oh, Pipsqueak, all you have to do is look in the mirror to see she’s always right there with you.”

  As Sofie flings herself in her father’s arms, I get up, leaving room for him to sit and tuck his children close. I disappear into the kitchen, distractedly cleaning up the remnants of dinner while trying to get my own tears under control.

  The kids’ excitement about their upcoming trip is notably subdued when we get them ready for bed twenty minutes later.

  “I have something for you,” I tell Sofie, as I take my turn tucking her in.

  “What?”

  I hand her one of the packages I quickly wrapped in the laundry room this afternoon. I already gave Spencer his, which held an exploration kit with binoculars, a flashlight, and a magnifying glass.

  It takes Sofie two seconds to rip the paper off her point-and-click digital camera.

  “I thought you might like to take pictures of your trip, so when you come home you can show your dad and me all the fun stuff you guys have done.”

  The wobbly smile on her face is thank you enough, but she still throws her arms around my neck. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome, honey. Now get some sleep, tomorrow’s an exciting day.”

  I kiss her cheek and move toward the door.

  “Auntie Taz?” she calls out, as I’m about to duck into the hallway.

  “Yeah?”

  “I love you.”

  I drop my forehead against the doorpost and take a deep breath in through my nose.

  “Love you too, sweetheart.”

  With a soft click I pull her door shut.

  “Do we have everything?”

  Dad’s leaning against the side of the RV, using only his cane today. Mom is rummaging around inside, tucking away the kids’ stuff.

  “I think so, Grandpa,” Spencer is quick to answer.

  “Then let’s start saying goodbye, my boy. We’ll be leaving soon.”

  Spencer immediately turns to me, wrapping his arms around my waist. “Give Lilo and Stitch lots of snuggles, okay?” he mutters against my stomach.

  “You bet, honey. Snuggles every day.” I bend down and kiss the top of his head. “You have lots of fun and make sure you listen to Grandpa and Grandma.”

  “Okay!” He’s already turning to his father.

  Sofie is next, squeezing me tight. “I’ll miss you.”

  “Miss you too, sweetheart. Remember you can call your dad or me any time—Grandma’s got a phone—but you’ll probably be too busy having fun. Don’t forget to take us some pictures.” I notice Mom coming down the steps, observing us closely. “Say goodbye to your dad, honey,” I whisper, before reluctantly letting her go.

  I take a deep breath in and walk up to my mother, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “Say hi for me in Kentucky.”

  “Will do.”

  I’m about to turn to Dad when I’m suddenly pulled into a tight hug. “Mom,” I manage, wrapping my own arms around her.

  “I’ll take good care of them,” she mumbles before abruptly letting me go.

  Dad is grinning when I get to him. “Keep your eyes on the road, Dad.”

  “You do know your mother is driving, right?” he points out, wrapping an arm around me.

  “Oh, I know. Why do you think I’m asking you?”

  Dad is still chuckling as he hoists himself up in the passenger seat. He immediately rolls the window down and leans out. “We’ll be fine, Baby Girl.”

  I’m swallowing down that lump long after the taillights disappear down the driveway.

  Dad hasn’t called me that in decades.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Rafe

  “I’m off to grab some groce
ries.”

  I hit the button to mute the TV and have to twist my neck to see Taz standing at the bottom of the stairs, trying hard to avoid looking at me.

  As soon as the RV had disappeared from view, she’d beelined it into the house and I heard her moving around upstairs when I walked in. I had one foot on the stairway to go up after her when I heard the pups scratching at the back door, so I took them out first.

  When I’d come back in and things were quiet, I told myself maybe she was taking a nap. That was an hour and a half ago. Looking at her now, I’m wondering if maybe she was just avoiding me.

  “I’ll come.”

  “You don’t have to,” she says immediately, but I’m already getting up and turning off the TV.

  She’s silent until we’re buckled in my truck and I start the engine. Then she mumbles something unintelligible.

  “What was that?”

  “Nothing,” is her curt answer and I glance over. Her hands are clasped together in her lap and her mouth is tight. I leave the truck in park and turn in my seat.

  “Taz…” Her eyes slide to me when I call her name. “You can relax, we’re only getting groceries.”

  “It’s Sunday.”

  “Yes, I’m aware of that,” I confirm, mildly puzzled.

  “It’s after twelve.”

  “I know that.” So far I’m not seeing the light.

  She rolls her eyes up and sighs. “Church is out and everyone’s going to be at the grocery store,” she finally says, and her meaning starts dawning on me.

  “So what? It’s not like this is the first time we’ve gone to the store together. Besides, we saw half the town when we went out for dinner last week,” I point out.

  “Yes, but we had the kids with us before. Now it’s just…us.” She looks down at her hands in her lap and I reach over, covering them with one of mine.

  “Since when does it matter to you what anyone thinks?” I ask in a gentle tone. “Taz?” I prompt her and her eyes come up to meet mine.