Hopeful Whispers

by Bink Cummings

  Knowin’ we’ve still got a long drive ahead of us, I relax further on the bench. My legs stretch into the aisle between the bucket seats. Head lulls back. Huggin’ my girl, I urge her to rest all her weight on me. I can take it. “Why don’t you catch a nap, baby.”

  Katrina yawns. “I slept enough.”

  “Negative. You had a nightmare. Not peaceful sleep. I’ve got you. No demons are gonna fuck with ya when I’m here. I’ll scare ‘em away.”

  Kat shakes her head, amused. “It’s kinda sweet you think dreams work like that.”

  I get it. She’s gotta question my logic. Only, I know I can protect her, and her mind does, too. Therefore, I’ll bet three hundred large that she doesn’t get another nightmare when I’ve got her in my arms, my pulse thumpin’ under her ear, body heat keepin’ her toasty. I’ll keep her wrapped up in her own Ryker cocoon where the demons won’t dare lurk. I’ve got this.

  I kiss whatever part of her hair I can reach. “Trust me. Get some rest. It’ll make this trip go faster. Don’t worry. I’ll wake ya when we stop. Ya don’t need any more crappy Taco Bell and Sno-Caps in your belly.”

  Another sweet yawn arises that she attempts to stifle and fails adorably. “Fine.”

  “Sweet dreams.” I deliver a lingering kiss, nose stuffed in her hair. The scent of her shampoo invades my nostrils, drugging my system with dopamine.

  “You, too.”

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she just kissed my neck. Nah. That can’t be right. She wouldn’t do that.

  Kat

  Twangy country music blares through the speakers as I restlessly bounce in the passenger seat of the Suburban, anxious to get to the cabin. I need to see my kids. We just dropped Vanessa and Ryker off at her trailer to settle in, after a rather surreal drive where I spent nearly half of it in Ryker’s lap. He was sweet and comforting. Attentive, like when we were together. It was oddly nostalgic.

  Ekkk! There. There it is! Ryker’s place. Hidden in the woods on the outskirts of Red Fort. Do you see it? It’s just as exquisite as I remember. Between the dense trees rests a dark stained single-story cabin. The two-toned shutters and porch swing give it a storybook gingerbread charm. Ain’t it adorable in every sense of the word? I can’t wait to see what it looks like on the inside. If the outside is anything to go by, it’s gonna be epic.

  Turning into the narrow gravel drive, Kade navigates us around the squat building to the rear. Talking beside a jacked up pickup truck is my dad, Bear, and my girls. Happiness flutters in my middle at the sight of my family safe and sound.

  Clapping my hands animatedly, I squeal, “They’re here. They’re here!”

  No sooner does Kade brake, I throw open the passenger door and hop out. Roxie and Scarlett scream in excitement and fly at me with flailing arms and bright smiles. We meet in the middle of the vehicles, and I brace for impact as two happy kids slam into me, mindful of my belly. Simultaneously, I wrap my arms around their necks. Then we’re hugging and kissing like three crazy people who act as if they haven’t seen each other in decades.

  “I missed you. I missed you. I missed you,” I chant between loud smooches on their foreheads, cheeks, wherever I can land. My face aches from grinning so flippin’ big, stitches be damned. Jubilant tears prick my eyes.

  “We missed you, too! But we’ve been having so much fun!” Roxie vibrates with excitement. I’m never letting these little chickens go. Never ever again. Nope. Nada. I’ll die first.

  An ocean of love swells in my chest. God. I missed them. It wasn’t all that long, and, still, after that drive, it seems like ages.

  “Grandpa took us for ice cream. And we got to watch Titanic for the first time last night,” Scarlett singsongs with gusto, rubbing her baby sis.

  I freeze.

  Grandpa?

  Grand-pa.

  What?

  How did this happen?

  My mind reels with the news. What were they thinking?

  Clenching my jaw, careful not to grind my teeth, I slowly lift my gaze to Dad and Bear, who’re standing with Kade beside the truck, watching us. Dad tucks his tatted hands in his back jean pockets and cracks a guilty half smile. He hunches into himself as if his shoulders weigh a ton. A strand of gray hair falls onto his forehead.

  I can’t believe he told them. And, let them watch Titanic. They’re not old enough for that movie. It has a boob scene, and another that implies steamy sex. I do not approve.

  My eyes narrow into tiny slits.

  Bear raises both hands in surrender. “It’s not what you think,” he placates.

  Sure it’s not.

  Roxie notices my abrupt change in mood. “What’s wrong, Mommy?” she asks, assessing my face before looking at the men. Smart girl, she’s feeling the energy out. It’s thick with tension. I’m gonna knock their blocks off for this.

  “I’m fine,” I lie, patting both her and Scarlett’s shoulders in reassurance. No need to make a scene in front of the kiddos. Even though Scarlett’s too busy cooing at her baby sister to notice what’s happening.

  “Grandpa didn’t do anything wrong,” Roxie defends.

  “He didn’t,” Bear agrees, palms still up.

  Dad stares at his worn boots, kicking up dust as if they’re the most interesting thing in the world. If that’s not an admission of wrongdoing then I don’t know what is.

  Kade frowns at me, accentuating the lines around his eyes. Guess he’s not supporting my stance on this. Too bad. I’m the mom.

  Addressing Roxie, I ask, “Care to explain, sweetie?”

  “Ghost won’t tell us. But Scarlett and I agreed that he looks like the man in the photos.” Ryker’s identical blue eyes stare back at me, so innocent and full of unanswered questions.

  This is gonna get much harder for them before it gets any easier. Lots of secrets they don’t know yet. Stuff they’ll eventually find out. It’s not as if I can hide it forever. Nor do I want to. If Ryker hadn’t left, they’d know their father. If my dad hadn’t faked his death, they’d have had a grandpa long before this. The problem is, I’m going to be the bad guy. The one who has to break the news. To tell them the truth, or some version of it that I know their brains can understand. The last thing I want is them thinking any of this is their fault. Ryker didn’t leave them because of them. Just as my dad didn’t leave me because of me. Too bad kids have their own warped yet resilient way of dealing. I should know. My childhood was anything but easy.

  “What photos?”

  Calmly, I stroke her fine, blonde locks. When all I wanna do is snatch my dad up by the ear and march him through the woods so he can tell me how this happened. That’s what my grams would do. The woman who thinks her son has been dead half my damn life. Jesus. What a cluster fuck.

  I sigh inwardly.

  What’s a pregnant lady gotta do ‘round here to catch a nap?

  All I wanted to do was hug my kids and nap. And maybe grab a bite to eat that doesn’t come from a fast food joint.

  Guess this is what I get for wishful thinking.

  Life can suck my lady-nuts.

  “The ones on the wall in the kitchen. He has your eyes. His hair’s different, but he looks the same. And he has tattoos. One of them says my name,” the last part she utters in adolescent awe.

  She’s smart. Too fricken smart for her own good.

  Shit.

  How do I handle this? What would you do?

  I hadn’t planned on unwrapping the past until we were settled in.

  Looks like I don’t have a choice any longer, now do I?

  Sighing for real this time, I close my eyes, take a deep cleansing breath, and blow it out. To make this easier to confess, I press my lips to Roxie’s forehead. The closer to my kids, the better. “I found out my dad was alive in November when I came here to visit. I didn’t tell you guys because I wasn’t sure you’d be able to meet him. But, yes, smart girl, Ghost is your grandpa. And, Bear is, um … er … your grandpa, too.”

  Chancing a glan
ce at my men, to gauge their reactions, I’m shocked to my core when I see Bear clinging to Dad, hands fisted in his t-shirt, face stuffed in the crook of his neck, shuddering through soft sobs. To soothe his lover, Dad rubs Bear’s leather-clad back, speaking to him in gentle tones too low for me to hear. Beside them, stands Kade with redness rimming his eyes. He dashes the wetness away with his fingertips. I swallow hard. Watching people cry, makes me cry, dammit. They’ve gotta stop, or I’m gonna lose it, too. Pressing my lips together and blinking rapidly, I stave off the waterworks. These stupid pregnancy hormones need to be handcuffed and placed in solitary confinement for the remainder of my pregnancy.

  “Bear’s our grandpa, too?” Scarlett whispers in surprise, a giant Colgate smile illuminating her angelic face.

  Moving my lips from Roxie to Scarlett, I peck her forehead. I suppose the bonus of having two giants for daughters is they’re only a couple inches shorter than me, so I don’t have to bend to love on them anymore. Granted, that also makes me extremely sad. Watching your kids grow up is both rewarding and heartbreaking. You wanna put a brick on top of their head to keep them small. At the same time, you wanna feed them Miracle Grow to grow big and strong. Too bad Roxie and Scarlett didn’t take after me. Nope. Their dad’s super sperm had to gift them his height genetics. In a few years, I’m gonna be the shortest of the bunch. Perhaps baby number three will be like mommy. One can hope.

  “He is,” I answer Scarlett. Deciding to delve further into explanation, so they don’t have to pry, I add, “Grandpa Ghost and Bear are … married.” They’re not. But that’s semantics. Commitment is commitment. That’s all they need to know. The fact that he’s also their dad’s father is a moot point at this moment. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.

  Both girls’ heads turn instantaneously. Dad jostles Bear and lifts his chin, indicating that Rox and Scarlett are watching. “We—we’re gay,” Dad explains awkwardly as Bear collects himself.

  “We know,” Roxie replies maturely, shoulders back, head held high. “You kissed Be—Papa when we got here. Mom has a lady she works with who’s gay. Her girlfriend’s real nice.”

  And supremely kinky. Though they don’t know that.

  Since before motherhood, I’ve thought it’s every parent’s duty to teach their children about those different than them. There’s too much hate in the world. Too much bigotry. The last thing I want is my girls growing up racist or homophobes because they weren’t exposed to people of different ethnicities or those who love the same sex. Different doesn’t mean better, nor worse. Love is love. Skin is pigment not character. Gah. I’m rambling again. Pretty sure I could preach on this subject all day. Don’t worry. I’m not telling you how to parent. If I were, you’d flip me the bird anyhow. Not that I’d blame ya. You do your thing, and I’ll do mine.

  Taking care of his man, Dad wipes the stray tears from Bear’s rosy cheeks with his thumbs before chastely kissing his lips. Bear wraps his arms around Dad’s waist, touching their foreheads together for an intimate breath. It’s equal parts strange and adorable to witness. Bear’s this huge, barrel-chested guy with a long beard and kind blue eyes. Whereas Dad’s average and shorter than Bear by a few inches. Observing them side by side, you’d assume my father was the emotional of the two. And Bear the brawny, rough-edged, show-no-emotions badass. That couldn’t be any further from the truth. Like father like sons in that respect. They make a cute couple. Colorful tattoos and all.

  To lighten the mood, I pat both kiddos on the shoulder before coaxing them toward the cabin’s back door. They follow me without complaint or question. Thankfully. I can only take so much before my emotional damn breaks, and Bear’s reaction has pretty much taken me to the brink. Any minute now, I’m gonna bawl. And it’s gonna be an ugly cry. That’s the last thing I need. Not when I’m supposed to be strong. Granted, this has been one of the most pivotal moments in my life. My kids officially have grandpas. Plural. It wasn’t how I pictured it happening. Hell. I never thought it would. If I hadn’t been kidnapped, this day might’ve never come.

  Opening the wooden screen door, staring through the cutesy window, I try the knob. It’s locked.

  “I’ve … I’ve got a key.” Bear wrestles it out of his pocket, offering it to me.

  Dipping my chin in thanks, I slide it into the hole and pause, eyes on the black handle. This is it. There’s no turning back. We’re in Texas. Moving here temporarily. The girls start school tomorrow. My life’s changing. This is my new home. The four walls that’ll hold future memories. Ones that I hope, ten years from now, I look back on fondly. Not regret.

  Kade wedges himself between the house and Roxie. Flashing a friendly smile, he sets his mitt atop mine and we turn the key together. Click goes the lock. Exhaling a rush of air, I pull up my big girl panties and enter the cabin’s mudroom, complete with rustic hooks on the wall, a deep sink, and a stacked energy efficient washer and dryer. This is nice. There’s a picture on the wall that says, ‘Love is the feeling you get when you like something as much as your motorcycle’. Covering my mouth with my hand, I conceal a snicker. That sounds just like Ryker.

  Waddling deeper into the space, the cozy scent of cinnamon, warm vanilla, and wood instantly intoxicates me. Mmmm. They should bottle this smell and sell it everywhere. Ryker would be a millionaire by Sunday.

  In the middle of the great room, I come to a standstill, overwhelmed by the… This is… Jesus… It’s like he snatched the picture-perfect cabin right outta my dreams, clicked his heels together like Dorothy, and poof … it’s here. I’m … I’m at a loss for words.

  “Mom?” Sidling up next to me, Roxie touches my arm that hangs at my side.

  “Yeah, sweetie?” I mutter dumbly, soaking in the atmosphere that’s turned my fluttery insides to a vat of pink sparkly goo. I … I … can’t believe this. From the earthy tones, to the thoughtful touches, it’s exquisite. This isn’t a simple bachelor’s cabin. It’s a home built for a family in mind. If there’d been any doubt that Ryker built this place for us, all doubts have been wiped clean. I couldn’t have designed it better myself.

  Overhead, dark stained, hand-hewn beams accent the vaulted ceiling. The walls are smooth wood and slightly lighter in color. The floor’s wide planked hardwood and strewn with colorful rugs to warm the space. There’s a small living room next to the six chaired dining room table. The couch’s tan leather and flanked by simple side tables and lamps. The oversized matching chair with ottoman is right out of a book nerd’s fantasy. I can’t wait to curl up in it and read. Oh, and look, there’s a corner fireplace, too. How did I miss that? It’s huge. Covering the entire wall, floor to ceiling, with large unrefined stone. Above the hand-hewn mantel Ryker’s mounted a flat-screen TV. That sucker’s gotta be larger than any of the TVs we have at home. And here I thought my measly fifty inch was impressive.

  “This is beautiful. Don’t you think?” Roxie finally says.

  She, too, is busy checking out the space, as is everyone else. If my memory serves me correct, nobody aside from Ryker has set foot in this place. I’m sure it’s a little jarring to everybody else as well. ‘Cause lord knows, I’m still astounded. And we haven’t seen the bedrooms or bathroom yet. If this is what my insides feel like now … gooey and whatever else I’m feelin’, I can’t imagine what’s gonna happen once I see those. Then again, maybe they’re crap. Highly unlikely, though.

  “It sure is,” I agree, spinning around to soak in the open kitchen. It’s the perfect blend of rustic and modern. Maple cupboards join seamlessly with the granite countertops. All the appliances are top of the line stainless. And that range … whoa buddy, check it out.

  “Is that a six burner gas stove with a pot filler?”

  No. That can’t be possible. They only have ranges like that in multimillion-dollar homes on HGTV. Not houses I can afford to live in. Rubbing my eyes with my fists, I clear them of any debris to be sure I’m not imagining this. Nope. It’s still there. Well, I’ll be damned. I’ve always
wanted a gas stove. The one at my house is an old electric one left from the previous owners. I suppose it works okay, as long as you turn the temperature down twenty degrees or you’ll burn the back half of your food. It’s a fussy bitch that took me two years to master.

  Scarlett meanders into the kitchen and does a full circle. Her too large flats slap loudly on the floor. I wish she’d stop wearing those. They used to be Roxie’s until she outgrew them. Unfortunately, they were adopted by Scarlett before I could donate them to the Salvation Army. “Mommy, you can cook a feast in here.”

  “I know. It’s very nice.”

  More than nice. It’s a good thing Ryker’s busy with Vanessa because all this praise would undoubtedly over inflate his already big head. Wouldn’t want to see it pop. I’m not Dexter Morgan. Icky brain matter isn’t my bag.

  Uncle Kade trails Scarlett into the kitchen as if there’s a tether tied around their waists. Guess his attention’s better spent on Scarlett and the rest of the family than on uninterested Rosie, who said she had to run errands and would meet us back here tonight. That woman has to sleep sometime. She’s like the Energizer Bunny—she keeps going and going and going.

  Curiouser and curiouser, I leave my family to their own devices and scout the rest of the cabin alone. Off the kitchen, there’s a hallway. The first door I come to is a bathroom. Standard, albeit rustic in appearance with moss green rugs and an outdoorsy shower curtain. The next room’s a bedroom. Basic cabiny feel, with a single twin bed and closet. Rosie’s place, if I have anything to say about it. There’s no way she’s sleeping on the couch.