“And carrying Mommy when she hurts her feet,” Tuck added. “Plus, we get pizza if Mr. Soupy kisses you, Mommy. Every day.”
“Hold on there, buddy.” I tried to stay serious, but the urge to laugh was really strong. “You said you wanted pizza for dinner tonight in exchange for me kissing your mom.”
“You can kiss Mommy tomorrow if we get pizza tomorrow.”
Maddie giggled.
He was a smarter kid than I’d given him credit for. His negotiation tactics were growing by leaps and bounds.
“Do I get a say in all this?” Rachel asked.
“Nope,” Tuck said at the same time as I said, “Of course.”
“It’s a tie,” Tuck said. “I win.”
“If it’s a tie, there is no winner,” I argued.
“Home-team advantage,” he deadpanned.
“I say,” Rachel said over Tuck, despite his objections, “that there is no chance on earth you’re going to eat pizza every single day, whether Brenden kisses me or not.”
“Aw, man!”
Rachel reached into the box for another slice. “I also say I should be the one to decide if and when I get kissed—and who gets to do the kissing.”
“But I have to take care of you, Mommy.”
She grinned and winked at him. “You are doing a great job of it.”
“So do I,” I said. Then I caught Tuck’s eye. “I have to help take care of her. It’s our deal. And kissing your Mommy is part of taking care of her.”
Rachel’s head whipped around to stare at me. I might have gone a step too far. She’d said she needed to talk to them about things, and I hadn’t given her the opportunity to do that before I was barging in and initiating the conversation. I didn’t back away from her stare, but I couldn’t exactly turn back. Not now that I’d started it.
Tuck frowned. “I can do that part. Me and Maddie. We can give Mommy all the kisses she needs. And hugs, too. I give good hugs.”
“You give the best hugs,” Rachel said.
“That’s important,” I said. “She needs kisses and hugs from both of you. Lots of them. But there are other kinds of kisses she needs, too.”
He dropped his pizza to his plate, and his jaw fell open. “Gross! Are you gonna put your tongue in Mommy’s mouth?”
Maddie blushed again and turned her head, giggling.
Lying to him wouldn’t help. It’d only make things worse. I couldn’t remember a time that my parents had ever lied to me or Dana, and that seemed like a good policy to go with. I only hoped Rachel agreed, since we hadn’t had the chance to discuss that alone yet. “Sometimes,” I replied.
Rachel gave me a look that clearly meant for me to back off. She got up, took her plate to the kitchen, and threw it away. “I think that’s enough for now.”
“But why do you need kisses like that?” Tuck asked. “That’s yucky.”
She sighed. “It’s not yucky. You’ll change your mind on that someday. But there are the kinds of kisses and hugs that kids and parents give each other, and they’re important. They help you know that you’re loved, right?”
“Mmmhmm.” Tuck didn’t sound like he was all that impressed with the direction of this discussion.
“Well, there are other kisses and hugs that men and women give each other,” Rachel said. “And they’re important, too. All kinds of kisses are important, as long as they make you feel good.”
Maddie set her plate down and picked up a napkin, methodically wiping her hands and face with them. “Men and women?” she asked. “Like a mommy and a daddy?”
Shit. My idiocy obviously knew no bounds today. I didn’t know what I’d been thinking when I started us along this path, but I definitely hadn’t expected to end up with the daddy word coming into the equation.
Rachel didn’t look anywhere near as flustered by that as I felt. She turned on the sink and washed her hands. “Yes, like a mommy and daddy. Or sometimes just like a girlfriend and boyfriend.”
“So is Mr. Soupy your boyfriend?” Tuck asked.
“Yes, I am.” I met Tuck’s eyes when he faced me. I didn’t want there to be any misunderstanding about what was going on here. “For as long as your mom wants me to be.”
“Does that mean you’re my daddy now?” he asked.
“No, I’m not your daddy now.”
“’Cause me and Maddie already have a daddy, and he’s a bad man, and he hurt Maddie. I’m not gonna let you hurt Maddie. Or Mommy. I’ll hurt you if you do.”
Tuck’s face was red and splotchy. Hot tears poured down his cheeks and made dark spots on his blue T-shirt, and it was my fault. I’d started this. I might not have had a clue what I was getting into, I might not have seen where the discussion would end up, but I’d been the one to fucking start us down this path. Now I had to sort it all out.
Maddie was crying, too, and Rachel was standing in the kitchen looking at me like I’d just shot one of her kids. Right here and right now I was pretty sure I was in over my fucking head with all of this, and I’d dragged them all there with me. I had to find a way to get all of us back up to the open air.
“Tuck?” I waited until he met my eyes. “I’m not going to hurt Maddie, and I’m not going to hurt your mom. I won’t hurt you, either. Remember our deal? We’re supposed to take care of them, and part of that is making sure no one will hurt them like he hurt Maddie ever again. Okay?”
Huge tears kept dripping down his red cheeks, and his lips were quivering, but he nodded.
“Some men hurt my sister, too. I wanted to hurt them back really bad, but I didn’t get to. I don’t want anyone to hurt her. Now she’s going to marry my best friend, and if he ever does anything to hurt her, he knows he has to answer to me. That’s how it works. Because we have to take care of our sisters. So I’ll make you another deal. Even though I’m telling you I won’t ever hurt Maddie and I won’t hurt your mom, those are just words. So if I do, I’ve got to answer to you for it. Deal?”
“And I get to hurt you?”
“That’s how it works.”
“I’ll hurt you real bad. ’Cause I’m the Ginger Ninja.”
“I’m counting on it.” I didn’t miss the irony that only a few months ago, Zee had said those exact words to me when I threatened to shove his head up his ass if he hurt Dana.
The more I thought about it, the more it made perfect sense that I wanted to be in Rachel’s life—and in Maddie’s and Tuck’s lives. Maybe it wasn’t even that I wanted to be involved. Maybe it was more that I should be. Now that I was this far in, I couldn’t stand the thought of not being around.
Tuck sniffled. He used both sleeves to wipe his eyes and nose, making a bigger mess than he already had, as usual. “Okay. Deal.”
“Mr. Soupy?” Maddie used her napkin to dry her eyes. “Should we still call you Mr. Soupy?”
“You can call me Brenden if you want.”
“Do I have to?” She looked over at Rachel, then back to me. “Can I still call you Mr. Soupy?”
I had to laugh, which got her to grin despite a stray tear still dropping slowly from her eye. “You can call me whatever you want, Maddie.”
“Good.”
“Okay,” Rachel said. She came back into the living room with a box of tissues, giving some to both kids before taking a few for herself and wiping her nose. “Have we covered all the bases yet?”
Tuck put a tissue over his nose and blew, but it only exacerbated his snot issue somehow. “Nuh uh,” he said, using his sleeve again. “If Mr. Soupy is your boyfriend, he gets to kiss you. What else?”
I wanted to know the answer, too—maybe even more than Tuck did.
“He gets to kiss me and hug me. He’ll spend time with us like he has been, and maybe sometimes just with me.”
For a second, I thought she was going to stop there.
But she didn’t. She reached down between us and took my hand, twining her fingers with mine. “And maybe sometimes, he’ll sleep over.”
My pulse kicked into g
ear.
“Like a slumber party?” Tuck said. “Can we make a fortress in the living room and sleep in sleeping bags and camp with flashlights?”
“Maybe sometimes,” Rachel said. “If he wants to. But sometimes, he’ll sleep in my bed with me.”
“And kiss you with his tongue?” Tuck made gagging sounds. “Gross.” Then he giggled and started eating again.
I figured that meant we were through with this conversation. Thank God. I wasn’t sure how I survived it, but I was definitely going to be a lot more careful about what subjects I brought up with Tuck and Maddie again. That was hell. I may not be their father, but every day was making it more clear how much I had left to learn about being around kids.
I was about to pick up my pizza and take a bite when Maddie said, “Mr. Soupy?” again, really quietly.
I shot a glance over to Rachel, almost begging her for help with my eyes, before I answered. Not that she owed me any help. I’d opened this can of worms. “Yes, Maddie?”
“Can I hug you?”
There weren’t too many things in the world that would bring me close to tears, but that was one of them. I nodded, trying to blink them back. She came into my arms, being very careful of my hurt ankle and my plate of pizza, but when she put her arms around my ribs and tucked her head against my chest and held on tight, just like Dana used to do when she was a little girl, I couldn’t hold them back anymore.
Hell, I didn’t even want to.
I put my arms around her and held her close. Right at that moment, everything became as clear as a sunny day in spring. There was nothing I wouldn’t do to keep her safe—to keep all of them safe.
I wanted to pull them all into my arms and hold them close and never let anything or anyone hurt them. I just didn’t know if I could wrap them up tightly enough that I could shield them from all the evils of the world.
It was Christmas Eve, and Brenden was already pulling his SUV onto Eric’s street when he turned to me with a guilty look in his eye. It was the same sort of look he’d had last night, when he started talking to my kids about kissing me before I’d had a chance to broach the subject of our relationship with them. “I should have warned you before, but I didn’t think about it until now,” he said.
“Warned me about what?” My mind instantly started rolling through infinite possibilities, each worse than the last. What kind of sordid secrets might he be keeping about his family? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know, but if he felt the need to warn me then I probably needed to know, and as soon as possible.
“Mom started baking cookies the second Zee and Dana got my parents back to the house. You can tell her that the kids can’t have any, but she’ll just sneak them some when you’re not looking if you do.”
“Cookies?” I mumbled. He was warning me about cookies? “That’s all you needed to warn me about?”
“That and my dad’s likely to talk your ear off, so you might want to be sure you don’t get caught alone with him unless you want to hear a monologue on the current housing market in Providence.” He pulled into the driveway and put the vehicle in park.
I laughed, unbuckling my seat belt. “You couldn’t have just said, ‘Oh, by the way, Mom likes to ply kids with cookies and Dad talks a lot?’ Prefacing it with a warning is kind of overkill.”
“Sorry.” Brenden smiled, and I felt it all the way through to my toes. “I’ll try to do better next time,” he said.
He opened his door and struggled with his crutches, and I helped Tuck and Maddie get out of the backseat. By the time we were all standing on the driveway, a man who could only be Brenden’s father had come out the front door. He smiled and headed our way.
“Go inside and be polite,” I said to Tuck and Maddie. “And only one cookie for now. No more than that until you get some real food.”
“Yes, ma’am,” they said in sync. They took off without having to be told twice, with Maddie giving Mr. Campbell a not-as-wide-as-normal berth as she scurried past him. He winked at her but kept his distance.
They were about the same height, Brenden and Mr. Campbell, and most of their facial features were identical—the same long nose and square, chiseled jaw. Mr. Campbell’s hair was more of a silver shade, and his skin was a little more wrinkled. Otherwise, they could almost be brothers.
I already felt a little awkward about being here, since it was a family Christmas and my kids and I weren’t part of this family. Not only that, but I hadn’t had anything resembling a family holiday since I’d been a kid. I returned his smile and scurried to the back of the SUV.
I’d brought a bag of toys for Tuck and coloring books for Maddie because the last thing I wanted was for them to get bored and drive the adults crazy or for them to play with something that wasn’t a toy and break it. There was another bag of presents, plus a duffel I’d packed with everything the kids and I would need for the night and tomorrow. Brenden had brought a small overnight bag, too, which wouldn’t be easy for him to carry since he was on crutches.
He’d deftly hidden the Santa gifts I’d bought for the kids under the flooring in the back of the SUV. I’d bring that in later, once the kids were asleep.
Brenden’s dad met me back there. “Let me get those for you,” he said, taking the bags from my hands before I could even sort out the handles. “Mark Campbell. You must be Rachel.” He somehow got all of our stuff in one hand. I probably couldn’t have carried it all in a single trip.
“Yes, sir. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Campbell.”
He held out his hand to me as though to shake mine.
I took it, and he pulled me in for a hug. “Oh, I…” I hadn’t been expecting that at all.
“Merry Christmas.”
“Hands off my girl, old man,” Brenden said, coming around from the driver’s side.
Mr. Campbell let me go and winked. “Just giving her a welcome. Come on in. Your mother wants to see with her own eyes that it’s just your ankle and nothing more serious than that.”
“She just needs something to worry about,” Brenden said.
“Some excuse to give you cookies, you mean.” Mr. Campbell put his arm around Brenden’s shoulders, pulling him close for a side-hug, made awkward by the crutches under both of Brenden’s arms.
By the time we got inside, my kids were each sitting on a barstool with a saucer of cookies and a glass of milk.
Dana came over to take my coat. “I limited Mom to two cookies each for now, but I can’t make any promises about how many more she’ll give them.”
“You’ll help me keep an eye on them?” I asked.
She only nodded because her mother was coming over to me with a plate full of cookies. Mrs. Campbell looked a few years younger than her husband. She was shorter than the rest of her family, but that wasn’t saying much when she stood next to me.
She didn’t bother with introductions or any of that nonsense. “Brenden was supposed to find out your favorite kind for me, and the kids’ too, but he never let me know. I’ve got oatmeal raisin, chocolate chip, and sugar, and the white chocolate macadamia nut cookies should come out of the oven in a few minutes.”
Brenden came by on his crutches. He kissed his mom on the cheek, snagged an oatmeal raisin cookie, stuffed it in his mouth, and kept going.
I took a sugar cookie so as not to be rude. “Thank you, Mrs. Campbell. This is perfect.”
“I’m just glad to have children here,” she said. “There’s something special about having kids around at the holidays.”
Dana rolled her eyes, took a chocolate chip cookie, and pulled me into the living room. Her mom went back to cookie duty in the kitchen. We sat on the sofa, where I could easily see both kids and know if she was giving them any more sugar. Mr. Campbell had set all my bags out of the way near the stairs, and he and Brenden were sitting at the dining room table with Eric.
Dana tucked her feet up beside her, pulling a throw blanket over her lap. “We’ve barely gotten engaged, and Mom’s already asking us when we intend to
give her grandkids.”
“Wow. What’d you tell her?”
“Eric put her off by talking about setting a date for the wedding. I’m sure she’ll come back to it before too long, though. They’ll be here more than a week. Plenty of time for her to grill us.” She readjusted the throw pillows behind her. “We haven’t even talked about it between the two of us, other than agreeing that we both want to have kids. Be careful. She’s got grandkids on the mind, and she already asked me how serious you and Brenden were, once she knew you had kids. She didn’t perk up until then, but there’s no chance she’ll let it go now. I think she intends to woo you, if she doesn’t think Brenden’s doing a good enough job of it. And I’m sure she intends to win over the kids in case that’ll help you make up your mind.”
“Make up my mind about what?”
“About being in our family,” Dana said without batting an eye. “Mom decided you were perfect for Brenden before she ever met you. I think it’s mainly because of the whole insta-grandkids thing, but she also likes the fact that Brenden’s letting her and Dad get to know you.”
Insta-grandkids? Tuck and Maddie had never really had grandparents in their lives. Jason’s parents had only been involved in a very limited capacity early on, and once I’d brought charges against him, they’d completely abandoned us—like it was my fault. And of course, my parents had never even met my kids. I kind of liked the idea of grandparents for them, even if I wasn’t ready to go there yet.
“I’ll deal with it if I need to,” I said. I looked over to the kitchen and thought at first that Mrs. Campbell was giving them more cookies. She wasn’t, though. She had given them each a sugar cookie and some icing and was letting them decorate the cookies. She’d set out little tubs with sprinkles and candy and God only knew what else. It was nice to see.
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