In Too Deep

by Dani Collins

  “Beats me hearing it,” Trigg said facetiously, scratching under his chin.

  “And you’re right about boundaries, but those boundaries are ever expanding. Sometimes they go all the way back to Seattle.” He was talking about Glory’s disappearance last year. “Or they involve making room for a man you fear will break her heart. Spoiler alert,” Marvin said with a tuck of his chin. “Someone will break her heart.”

  Trigg let his head fall against the back of the chair and pinched his nose. “I can’t start thinking about her with boys. I’ll need opiates.”

  “Trigg.” Marvin folded his hands on the desk, looking like a doctor about to deliver a rough diagnosis. “This is the outcome every parent is aiming for. You want them to grow up and have the skills to make a life for themselves without leaning on you.”

  “It’s really not,” he argued with the ripped-up heart of a helicopter mom complaining to the B-team soccer coach. “I only just got her. I can’t start talking about letting her go.”

  “I know. But you have to. Here’s a tip I picked up, though.” He touched his nose. “When they’re throwing a skillet at you, they’re actually crying out for a hug. Grab it while you can.”

  *

  Third floor was the charm when he went looking for his wife and daughter. Trigg tried the door from the manger’s office, then his own room and finally tracked them down in their new apartment.

  As he let himself into the living room, he was met with the backs of their heads, side-by-side on the sofa. They were snuggled under a blanket watching Wren’s laptop on the coffee table.

  Murphy went around ahead of him and sniffed the bowl of potato chips. Sky put out her hand to pet him and Wren said, “Noooo,” when Murphy tried to put a paw on the new sofa.

  “Go to your mat,” Trigg said, pointing out the cushion in the corner. “What are you watching?” He bent to kiss the crown of Wren’s head, needing the grounding of her scent before he took on the greater challenge of making up with his kid. He almost took a shot and kissed the top of Sky’s head, too, but she tilted her head back to look up at him.

  “Love, Actually. It’s almost over.”

  He meandered through the rooms, noting that the beds had been made up and their bar fridge stocked with milk, fruit and yogurt. They had opted for a wet bar with a cupboard for bread, cereal and a few dishes, but didn’t plan to cook anything bigger than would fit in the toaster oven.

  When he came back, Sky wiggled closer to Wren, making room for him on the sofa. He sat down beside her. On the screen, people were waiting at an airport, hugging passengers as they came off planes.

  “I’ve never seen this. What’s it about?”

  They both turned their heads, jaws hanging open with scandal.

  “Love,” Wren said.

  “Actually,” Sky said.

  They looked back at the screen, both wearing soft smiles as people were hugging.

  He thought about what Marvin had said and set his arm across the back of the sofa. Played with Wren’s hair.

  Sky shifted to lean in to his side under his arm. “Can we walk the dog after this?”

  “For sure.”

  The music in the movie had been custom built to provoke all the sentiments a person possessed, but that wasn’t why he felt his own heart swell.

  He was pretty sure it was love. Actually.

  *

  Even though Trigg had made a point of getting a solid door put in between their bedroom and the lounge, Wren bit back her gasps and sighs of pleasure, somehow finding a new level of intensity in the quest to climax silently. Sometimes they were still wild, sometimes tender, but the desire between them never seemed to abate.

  And the glow afterward was otherworldly. She could lie under his relaxed, sweaty body until she died, thank you very much.

  With a groan of reluctance, he withdrew and rolled away, but dragged her along, bringing her hand to his chest so she could feel the still-heavy beat of his heart.

  “That was fucking tantric,” he breathed.

  “Other way around.”

  He snorted. Picked up her hand and nibbled her finger. “Thanks either way.”

  “You don’t think she heard us, do you?” Wren asked, self-conscious.

  “I was going to invite Rolf and Glory to have a go in here, so I could test the sound-proofing, but it seemed wrong to let them have fun in here before we did.”

  “Tsk.” She nudged into his ribs, then resettled her cheek on his damp shoulder, delirious with pleasure when they were like this. Utterly content. “Did it go okay? Your walk?”

  “Really good, actually.” He kept playing lightly with her fingers. “I realized something I should have seen sooner. When she was talking about her schoolwork, I heard my own OCD. She isn’t really behind. She’s behind where she wants to be.”

  “I told her to ask Marvin for help with the English assignment.”

  “He’ll love that.”

  “I thought so.” She wriggled against him, enjoying the sensual pleasure of warmth and nudity, soft bed and soft sheets. In this moment, her life was beyond perfect.

  “Wren?” He played with her hair, lulling her.

  “Mmm?”

  “I know we agreed not to talk about it yet, but I want to talk about it.”

  She snapped her eyes open, seeing nothing but darkness. “Custody?”

  “That, but also more kids.”

  Every time she faced the years he had missed, she felt like she owed him, but she couldn’t shake the feeling they weren’t going to last.

  “Can we get her into school first? Maybe talk when you have the hill online? That’s only a few months away.”

  “All right.” He sounded disgruntled, but kissed her and let it go.

  *

  Wren managed to register Sky for school online before Sky was technically finished with grade seven. She was instructed to come in with her on the first day of school with her records of completion and other paperwork.

  Sky finished her last exam on a Thursday, one day before her time ran out and five days before she actually had to start at her new school.

  Vivien ordered a cake to celebrate. They had a barbecue on the deck outside their apartment, inviting the family and promised her a final water-ski on the lake on Sunday as a reward. All the men were working fifteen-hour days, but agreed to take the day off to say goodbye to summer.

  Rather than slowing down for the fall shoulder season, reservations were filling up at the lodge. Wren wasn’t as busy as she had been in the weeks before the wedding, but a smaller wedding had been booked for September and Vivien and Marvin were talking about slipping away for a week before the resort opened so she had plenty to do.

  She loved her job. Marvin was wonderful, Vivien cracked her up with her efforts to truck in sophistication from afar, and the staff was a lively bunch of awesome. Yes, some guests were high maintenance, but most of them were thrilled with the scenery and the quaint touches in the lodge and the chance of running into a Johansson. Wren never introduced herself as one. It felt too presumptive, but Sky wanted to take Trigg’s name so Wren kept things simple and used it on the legal stuff.

  “Are you ready?” Sky nagged. She wore a T-shirt and shorts over her bathing suit and an impatient expression.

  “Almost.” Wren went through her beach bag, double-checking for sunscreen, water bottle, towel—There it was. “I couldn’t find my pho—Oh.” Her heart thunked as she recognized the number. “Just a sec.”

  *

  Trigg opened the tailgate and whistled at the dog, giving him a boost up and in. Nate was taking his own truck. Aiden was already in his booster and Ilke was setting her beach bag on the floor at the boy’s feet. Eden was meeting them there with Zuzu. Rolf and Glory were coming with him and Wren. Sky hadn’t made it clear yet whether she wanted to ride next to Aiden in the back seat of Nat’s king cab or with Glory and Wren in Trigg’s.

  Sky finally came down the outside stairs with a look Trigg couldn’
t interpret.

  “Where’s Wren?”

  “She said to go without her.”

  “What? No.” Trigg looked up, but their units were on the front side of the lodge.

  “Her dad died,” Sky said.

  Oh, fuck.

  “Oh, my God,” Glory said, sliding back out of the seat she’d just taken. “That’s awful. She must be devastated.” She looked upward, too.

  “She’s changing and packing. Says she has to go to Utah and will call when she gets there. I said I would go with her, but she says I have to start school on Tuesday and she doesn’t know how long she’ll be. She said you have to take me, so she has to go by herself.”

  Trigg tossed his keys at Rolf. “Keep your phone on. She’s not going by herself.”

  *

  “The neighbor found him with a note pinned to his shirt. It said he knew he was sick, but didn’t see a doctor, that whoever found him should tell me he was gone and to sell the house to pay for his cremation. He hated hospitals. It doesn’t surprise me he refused to see a doctor.”

  Wren wore her poker face, the one that made him think all her emotions had been pressurized so deep inside her, they were crystalizing into colorless diamonds. She smoothly folded dark clothes into a suitcase.

  Trigg opened the closet and took out his own carry-on suitcase.

  “I don’t want you to come,” Wren said, flicking her gaze at it. “We weren’t close. I’m fine. It will just take time to organize things and clean out the house. If I get on the road now—”

  “You’re not driving.”

  “Flying makes no sense. I would have to rent a car on that end and I don’t know how long I’ll be there. It would cost a fortune. I’ll drive.”

  “I happen to possess a fortune. I’ll charter a plane and pay for the rental.”

  “There’s no hurry. He’s dead. If it’s just me, I can do the drive in one haul, but I have to sign papers before they can cremate him.” Her hands were shaking as she moved into the bathroom to put shampoo and a toothbrush into a bag. “I have to get the will from the bank, too. They made one when my mother got sick.”

  He tried to move in front of her and she went around him, not even looking at him.

  “Wren.” He turned her and held her in front of him, wanting to pull her in for a hug, but she was so withdrawn, he simply wasn’t sure. “We’re family now. This is what family does. We don’t let you face this stuff alone.”

  “I don’t want Skylar going there,” she said, voice fraying with the first sign of emotion, but it was deep and sharp and hard. “She needs to start school in two days and you need to take her because I can’t.”

  He rubbed his hands on her tight arms. “My mother can take her. Marvin will be over the moon. Every kid’s dream, right? Getting dropped off for high school by their doting grandparents?”

  Nothing. Just a faint tremble in her mouth that made his own feel unsteady.

  “I want you to do it,” she said, staring into the middle of his chest. “You’re her dad before you’re my husband.”

  Shit. No hanging on to the edges. They were going all the way past the ropes, into the rough waters.

  “I’m both, Wren. You know I am. I love you.”

  She closed her eyes and her lashes grew damp. “Please don’t say that.”

  “That I love you?” It hurt. It hurt like fucking branding irons on his soul that she didn’t want to hear that. Everything in him wanted to fold and walk away. But he made himself ignore the agony and say, “I’m calling to book a plane, then I’m driving you to the airport. I’m coming with you. Pack my bag if you want something to do.”

  *

  Trigg wouldn’t be swayed. He didn’t even give her a chance to sway him. He threw his own clothes into his bag as he made his calls.

  Wren stood there and watched, pinned as though stuck on a barbed hook, unable to move productively or find words or struggle herself out of this trap.

  But maybe this was what they needed. She had known this bliss of theirs was an illusion. That it would come crashing down around her at some point. The anticipation of pain was as bad as the reality of it.

  Hold out your hand.

  At least when it was over, you could deal with it.

  When they got to the airport in Kalispell, their plane had just arrived and only needed to refuel before they took off. Two hours later, they were in a car, heading south out of Salt Lake.

  Wren numbly gave him the directions onto the freeway then onto a lightly traveled single-lane highway and eventually into the sort of small town that politicians loved to refer to as Main Street USA.

  She asked him to first stop at the funeral home where they said the body wasn’t ready for viewing yet, thank God. She signed the papers and they left, starting down a road she knew far too well. Past the church. Past a chicken farm and a junkyard to the end of a dirt road.

  Keep going. Go forever. Never make me face this.

  “Pull up here,” she said as ice tracked through her. “That was it back there.”

  “What? Where?” Startled, he pulled into the bus stop, which was a bench with peeling paint standing in a worn patch of dirt against the side of the road.

  When he started to U-turn, she touched his arm.

  “Stop. Just stop.” The feel of him was such a draw, such a temptation to let him hold her and hide her from all of this, that she had to tuck her hands into her lap and bite her lip to keep from crying. Crying wasn’t allowed.

  He jerked the car into park and twisted to face her, elbow on the steering wheel. “Sweetheart—”

  “Don’t, Trigg. Don’t. I love you so much and now you’re going to hate me. I can’t bear it. I can’t.” She threw herself from the car.

  There was nowhere to go, of course. She’d sat on this very bench a thousand times, in the rain and snow and the same blistering sunshine as today, wishing herself anywhere but in this spot.

  She slumped onto the bench with her face in her hands, doubled over with the pain of facing her past. Worse. Facing her lack of future. She didn’t have one. Not with the man she loved. Not with the child she wished was her own. Agony engulfed her.

  The car door slammed and Trigg’s footsteps came toward her. “I’m never going to hate you. How could I?”

  “Because I kept her here,” she cried, dropping her hands and looking across the field to the dumpy house in the distance with the cluttered workshop behind it. “I was selfish. No one loved me. Only Mandy. She wanted me to have Sky and I thought that was enough to justify keeping her with me. But she needed you. I should have told you. I should have let her have that time with you.” Guilt and shame and sorrow choked into her voice. “She should have had all those things you’re giving her now. Not just me and m-my good intentions. My pathetic need. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

  She covered her wet face again, hiding from her poor decisions. Hiding from his rejection and the utter defeat of losing the tentative happiness she’d found.

  “Stop,” he said, kneeling in the dirt in front of her. “Stop, Wren. Don’t do this to yourself.” His arms went around her and his hands stroked over her hair, down her back, across her shoulders. “You were a kid.”

  “I knew. I knew it was wrong and I kept her from you anyway.”

  “Because you wanted someone to love you.”

  “Yes! And she hates me for it.”

  “No, she doesn’t. Neither do I. Look.” He forced her hands away, making her lift her face and meet his gaze with her watery one. “Someone does love you. He’s right here. So stop hating yourself. I won’t allow it.”

  She shook her head, fingers clawing at him in despair, unable to stop crying as she tried not to hope. Even though he was squeezing her, pulling her off the bench into his lap as he knelt in the dirt.

  “I’m not g-good.”

  “Shh. You are.” He held her so tight, not letting her fall apart as he rocked her. “You’re smart. Brave and resourceful and funny. Maybe funnier than m
e, which chokes me because that’s the area I usually shine. And even though you have hurt every single day of your life, you know how to love. You taught me how to love. Do you think I knew before you came along? I wouldn’t have given Sky what you did, Wren.”

  “That was Mandy,” she said on a sniff. “She taught me.”

  “Christ, take some credit, would you? Open your eyes and see that everyone around you loves the shit out of you. They know you’re better than me. I’m terrified daily that you’re going to realize it, realize I’m marrying up, and look for someone better. The thing that scares me most is what you’ll do for my kid. What you’ll endure and sacrifice for her. At least let me love you for that.”

  She scooped one arm under his, across his back. The other was around his neck. She buried her face in his neck, drinking deep his scent, absorbing his strength as he held on to her. Still afraid to believe, but hanging on to this moment.

  “Wren,” he said, making her name sound like a benediction. “I don’t want you to go into that house. Let me hire someone to clean it and put it up for sale. Let me take you away from here. Let me take you home.”

  “I can’t ask you to do that.”

  “You’re not asking.” He drew back to kiss her wet cheek. “I’m offering. I’m insisting,” he said with gentle forcefulness.

  “I should do it,” she murmured, drying her face against his shirt, rejecting the offer reflexively.

  “Why?” he demanded. “Why would you want to do that when you don’t have to?”

  “I don’t want to…” She spared a moment to absorb what a relief it would be to not have to face that horrible task. “How much do you think it would cost to hire someone? I might have enough in savings.”

  “Done.” He shifted and pushed his arm under her legs, then rose with a grunt. “Let’s go.”

  She looked into his face, handsome as a prince, fierce as a barbarian, lit with purpose and tenderness and something so precious, it humbled her to look on it. Was he really going to carry her away like some kind of superhero who’d untied her from the railway tracks?