by Angel Smits
“I appreciate that.” She stood there in the hall, shivering. “I—” What else was she going to say? She had no idea. Her brain stopped functioning.
Marcus pulled the door open and stepped out into the night. Neither of them said anything. He closed the door, and she knew he was headed to his Jeep. She waited until she heard the engine roar to life before she turned the dead bolt into place.
* * *
ADDIE AIMLESSLY WANDERED through the house, turning off lights. Finally, she sank hard onto the old kitchen chair. The wood groaned just a little at the impact. I’m an idiot. Hadn’t she learned the lesson of unprotected sex, the hard way, years ago? The fact that it had never crossed her mind, and that Marcus had to bring it up, made her entire body blush. As if to belabor the point, memories taunted her.
Cal had been her first love, and for a long time now, her only love. She’d shied away from any serious relationships, as much because she hadn’t met anyone who measured up as because of fear.
Cal had been one of those shining lights who blasted into the world. One of the most popular kids at his school, and in the county, he’d blown her away when she went to spend time at her grandfather’s ranch.
Wyatt had been living there then, Grandpa grooming him to take over someday. She’d missed him and gone to visit.
She hadn’t planned on meeting anyone. Hadn’t been looking to find a relationship. The summer between her junior and senior year of high school, though, had been an eye-opening time. To all the things the world had ahead. To all the opportunities. To all the possibilities.
Love had been on that list.
She’d come home to Austin after meeting Cal and finished her senior year. She’d made plans to go to college. She’d always dreamed of being a teacher, and that’s what she focused on.
And Cal called her nearly every night. He’d even driven into Austin, in his dad’s king-cab pickup truck, and taken her to her senior prom.
The world had been the brightest place, aglow with opportunity and joy. The only dark side was the distance between them—which she’d remedied after graduation.
Grandpa had turned ninety that year, and needed more help. Wyatt and the ranch foreman took over most of the ranch operations. She’d volunteered to go help, and had even gotten a part-time job at a small boutique in Haskins Corners. Mom was working and still had the four younger siblings to take care of. Mandy had been around to help with them that summer, Addie recalled.
She’d gotten to see Cal nearly every day. He was going to college in the fall as well, so they wanted to make the most of the time they had.
The day they’d made the cookies was the first time. They’d been fumbling, bumbling teens thinking they were grown-ups.
Fools. Her mind whispered the word. They’d been so anxious, so inexperienced, they’d never thought about protection or consequences. She remembered a fleeting thought of it not really mattering. They were going to get married anyway.
His mother’s urgings to do just that when she’d shared the cookie recipe with Addie hadn’t helped. Not that Elizabeth had been at fault, but Addie had latched on to the complicit approval.
She’d been on top of the world—in love, college ahead and then...the accident. Cal’s death had been an end, but only the beginning of her pain. She still remembered the horror she’d felt when she’d figured out she was pregnant. Alone. Without him. So lost. Pain cut through her.
The darkness of the rest threatened to overwhelm her. No. She refused to think about the pain, the loss, the hurt that followed. She couldn’t. It could easily destroy her.
The reliable coping mechanism she’d learned then worked now, too. She pictured a box, pictured herself pushing all the memories and emotions into it, then closing the lid—and forgetting.
Sitting there, in the chair that was so special to her, holding the wooden wand her father had made for her, brought his last words back to her. She let herself remember safer, less painful times.
He’d been working in his shop yet again, and she’d been mad at some sibling for something—she couldn’t remember now.
“You’re the oldest, Addie-girl. You have to be the responsible one.” He’d kept sanding the piece of wood he was working on. “I’m counting on you to be a good girl and take care of them.”
Had he been prophetic, or were those the words he’d have said to his oldest daughter anyway?
If only she could go back to that little girl, go back and change everything. Keep her dad with her so she could ask him. Be the good girl he’d expected of her.
She’d tried so hard. She’d taken care of them all. “Sorry, Daddy. I let you down,” she whispered into the night.
* * *
MARCUS DROVE AROUND the streets for nearly an hour. Then sat in the parking lot of a twenty-four-hour pharmacy for another half hour, arguing with himself.
He drove home just as the sun was hinting that it would soon peek over the horizon. Driving by Addie’s house again, he forced his foot to stay on the accelerator and not shift over to the brake. All the lights were off, her house closed up and dark.
She was probably sound asleep, though he gave the engine an extra shot of gas just to make sure he kept going.
He pulled into the drive as the first rays of sunshine reflected at him in the rearview mirror.
He leaned his head back on the seat and tried to force his eyes to stay open. It wasn’t an easy task.
Slowly, he climbed out of the Jeep and headed inside. The scent of fresh-brewed coffee greeted him. Dread followed on his tail. His dad had always been an early riser. He wasn’t up to an argument this early in the day.
He was surprised when his mother was the one sitting at the kitchen table. This was the mom he liked best. She hadn’t put on her makeup yet, her hair was down instead of wound up in some fancy do, and she was wearing a familiar, worn robe. She held a cup of coffee in her hand, and the damned book lay open in front of her.
“When did you get this?” she asked, spearing him with one of those Mom’s-been-waiting-up-half-the-night looks.
He headed for the coffee. He wasn’t going to get any sleep yet. He had a class in—he glanced at his watch—three and a half hours. Final projects were due. Today the presentations for those projects were also due. He almost groaned.
“I asked you a question.”
“I know. Give me a minute to wake up.” He drank the coffee black, hoping it sped into his veins.
“Are you sober?” She asked another question before he could even begin to answer the first.
“Yes, I’m sober,” he snapped, then after another swallow of caffeine, he walked over to stand beside her. He put his hand on her shoulder. “I’m fine, Mom,” he said softly. He gave her shoulder a squeeze, then slid into the chair beside her. “I don’t drink anymore. I promised you all that. I’m actually getting on with my life.”
“What does this have to do with either of those things?” She waved at the book.
“Not much, actually, which is why I haven’t read it yet.” He closed the cover and pushed it toward his computer. “I met Sam Tilton last year. He wrote it. When he passed away a few months ago, his son sent it to me.”
She nodded, and some of the tension went out of her face. “I know you’re a grown man. Heavens, you’ve been one for some time, but I can’t stop being your mom.” She tried to smile.
He liked that she smiled. Meant he wasn’t in too much trouble. “Still, you can’t help but want to know where I’ve been all night.”
“Yeah. That.” She was uncomfortable; he could see that. She rose and went to the coffeepot to refresh her cup. “You need any more?”
“Probably later. I need to get to the university soon.” He drank another healthy swig, formulating his thoughts. “I went over to see Addie. I didn’t want her—” Want her to what? “To be upset by earlier.”
>
Donna smiled again, returning to her seat. She covered her hand with his. “I’m sorry for our timing. I’d have liked to visit with her a bit more.”
“I hope you can.” He’d like that, too. “She’s—” How did he describe this woman who’d suddenly come into his life when he wasn’t even sure what his life was? “Different. Ryan thinks she’s great. She actually grew up in this house with her five brothers and sisters.”
“Oh, my.” Donna looked around. “This house is made for a good-sized family. I can see that.”
“Yeah. Unfortunately, I think that’s what Ryan’s hoping for.”
“That you’ll find someone for you, or find him a new mom?”
“I’m not sure. He misses Carolyn. I do, too, sometimes.”
“Just sometimes?”
Guilt washed over him, but if there was one person he couldn’t lie to, it was his mom. “I think I’m actually moving on, Mom. And Addie’s a big part of that.” He stared into the coffee, realizing he needed to eat something or his stomach would be burning. “When Carolyn died, I planned to spend the rest of my life alone. I couldn’t imagine anyone else.”
“Oh, Marcus, I don’t want you alone for the rest of your life. Neither did Carolyn. You, and Ryan, are too young for that.”
“I know.” He smiled at her. “And Addie’s shown me that was grief, not logic, thinking. I’ll always love Carolyn, but—” He wasn’t sure what he felt.
“But?” she prompted.
“But I know I can love someone else, and not be unfaithful to Carolyn. She told me to move on and find someone.”
“But you were too stubborn to listen.” At his laugh, she reached over and gave him a much-needed hug. “I know my boy. I raised you, you know.”
“Yeah, you did.” He hugged her back. “Thanks, Mom.” He stood and put his cup in the sink. “Everything okay with you?”
“You mean with your dad home?” She hid behind the coffee cup.
“Yeah.”
She hesitated. “It’s an adjustment.” She set her cup down and met his gaze straight on. “It’ll take time. Give us that.” Marcus nodded and moved away.
“Marcus?” she asked softly.
“Yeah?”
“After you’ve read that book—” she waved at the table in general “—let’s finish this discussion, okay?”
He wasn’t sure what she meant, but he knew his mother didn’t say or ask for things that were frivolous. He’d respect her request. “Sounds like a plan. And now I’ve got to get a shower and head to class.”
“Did you get any sleep?”
“Nope. And not because of what you think. I was driving around most of the night.” He headed to the stairs. “Those projects better be danged good today, or I’m going to suffer.”
It sounded good to hear his mother’s laughter follow him up the stairs.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ADDIE OPENED HER eyes to the fading darkness and the glow of her phone screen. Curiosity wasn’t going to let her roll over and go back to sleep. Neither would the memories of last night. Burying her face in the pillow, she groaned in frustration. Had Marcus managed to sleep any better than she had?
Her phone’s ding signaled a text. She reached out and turned the phone toward her. DJ’s text made her heart trip.
Headed to the hospital. It’s baby time!
He’d sent it to them all, and just like her, her siblings were now awake. The responses came quick and predictable.
Drive careful.
From Wyatt.
Yippee!
From Tara.
No more sleep for you.
From Mandy. Jason was in LA, so Addie didn’t expect a response from him yet. They would expect one from her.
Her mind was blank, and she tried to blame it on still being half-asleep. She stared at the phone. Memories of another long-ago night tried to crowd in. Memories she’d worked so hard to pack away.
Addie typed, Keep us posted.
She added one of those happy-face emoji symbols that represented something she didn’t really feel. Was it easier to fake emotions or lie nowadays?
She’d just put her phone on the nightstand when another soft ding sounded. Jason had sent a whole string of smiley faces. That was all. It was enough.
DJ and Tammie had decided to come to Austin to have the baby. It was a smart decision. Haskins Corners had a small hospital, but if there were any complications, they’d send Tammie here. DJ wouldn’t even consider taking any risks.
After a couple of more dings, Addie gave up. They’d be chatting all day now. Sunlight was peeping over the horizon, and sleep wouldn’t return. She knew that.
The same had happened when Mandy had had Lucas. The phone calls and texts. The waiting. The baby plans.
The painful reminders.
Lack of sleep made the barriers she’d erected weak, brought the should-haves back.
Slowly, Addie padded over to the closet and pulled down the lone box on the top shelf. This was probably a bad idea. But she needed to face the sadness. Needed to remember for just a few minutes, so she could close it all up again.
She couldn’t afford to be blindsided later.
This box wasn’t make-believe. It was painfully real. The pale blue box was as pristine as the day she’d bought it. She’d touched it so few times. The old card shop in Haskins Corners where she’d bought it was long gone now, but the price sticker with their name was still on the bottom. She carefully lifted the lid.
Cal’s face startled her, as it always did. She gasped. He stared at her, that broad smile and sparkling eyes so real in the picture. It captured exactly who he’d been.
She moved the picture and all the other memorabilia of their summers together. Movie tickets. Carnival trinkets. The memorial folder from his funeral was the worse for wear. Tear stained and crumpled from her sweaty hands.
Then, there on the bottom, were the two things she’d been seeking. A folded piece of paper and the hospital band.
She touched the white plastic band she’d cut off her arm when she’d gotten home. The final thing she’d done that severed all the ties.
Then she reached for the paper. She wasn’t supposed to have it, but it was only a copy. The original birth certificate was sealed in a court file somewhere.
The paper crackled loudly as she unfolded it. Baby Boy Hawkins. Date and time, weight and length. Below that in some stranger’s precise handwriting—Mother: Addie Elaina Hawkins. Father: Calvin Michael Ferguson.
Time vanished as she read it over and over again. She blinked hard to chase away the hurt of losing Cal and of his never knowing, of the goodbyes she’d never really gotten to say.
For a brief instant, she let herself think about the what-ifs, the maybes, the should-haves. Finally, she whispered the word she’d never really said. “Goodbye.”
Addie knew she’d done the right thing when she’d signed the final adoption papers. That part had never hurt. Too much else had.
Hadn’t Marcus mentioned that Ryan was adopted? That Carolyn hadn’t been able to conceive? The small comfort that came with knowing her baby had given something—to a couple like Carolyn and Marcus—to another couple somewhere helped. A little.
Suddenly, she missed Marcus. Missed the comfort his company gave her.
Carefully, Addie put everything away as it had been and slid the box into its spot on the shelf. She wiped the tears away and took a deep breath. It still hurt like hell, but it didn’t destroy her anymore.
Something felt different this time. Instead of the image of Cal’s face clinging to her thoughts, she saw Marcus’s face smiling at her. Dare she look to a future?
Shaking her head to clear her thoughts, Addie squared her shoulders, and just like every other time before, she closed the closet door, and shut it all away.
People were counting on her, and she had to give them her best. DJ and Tammie were expecting the happy, doting aunt. And their new little one deserved that. The kids at school expected the principal to have her act together. The end of the school year was approaching. So much going on. They deserved a proper send-off to the rest of their lives.
And, damn it—that was what she was going to give them.
* * *
IT WAS NEARLY noon before Addie’s phone rang. She’d just sat at the table in the teachers’ lounge with a sandwich and a soda. “Hello?” she anxiously answered.
“Ad. She’s here. She’s perfect,” her brother DJ, the former marine, and one of the toughest guys she’d ever known, whispered in awe over the phone.
She laughed despite the sharp pain in her chest. “Of course, she is.” The thought of a little girl in the family made the pain not quite so sharp. “She’s a Hawkins.”
That made him laugh. “Rachel Ann Hawkins to be precise.” His pride came loud and clear through the phone. “She’s going to rule the world.”
“I’ll remind you that you said that when she’s about fifteen. How’s Tammie? And Tyler?” Everyone was fine, and the details he shared helped them both focus on the less emotional piece of a brand-new baby coming into the world.
“Are you coming to see her?” he asked.
“I— When are you heading home?”
“Tomorrow. Since we’re so far out in the country, the doc wants to make sure everyone’s perfect before we leave. Tara and Mandy are here. Wyatt’s on his way in.” Other than Jason and his wife, who were in Los Angeles, everyone was there. They expected her there, too.
She swallowed. She could do this. She had to do this. “I’ll come after work, then. And DJ, congrats. You’re a wonderful dad.”
Last night’s memories of their father came back. She couldn’t wait to share the wand with her siblings. She’d show them once everyone was settled, and Rachel Ann had finished with her time in the spotlight.