Mancave

by Jo Raven

  I park the truck right in the front and lean back with a sigh. At last. I stare at the house, at the front porch, the rosebushes Mary and Cole planted, the tree under which I talked to Mary on Friday, the overgrown lawn.

  I should cut the grass. Repaint the house. Fix the fence, where a rotten plank is sagging. I should have done this long ago, but somehow never found the time.

  Like I didn’t find time to talk to Mary before the morning of our departure.

  Another thing I need to fix.

  Octavia is still out, fast asleep, and I climb out of the truck and go around to get her. She barely stirs when I haul her out and swing her up in my arms.

  She mumbles something, smiles, and throws her arms around my neck.

  It feels awesome to have her snuggled up against me, her weight counterbalancing the weight in my chest, evening it out.

  Making me feel light.

  Through the drizzle, I walk slowly toward the house, not to wake her up, and I’m halfway down the path when the door flies open, and Mary walks out, her dark hair tumbling around her small face.

  She’s here. My little girl is fine. I take her in, the pressure in my chest easing.

  She stares at us for a long moment—and then starts running toward us, screaming.

  Why is she screaming?

  I stop, startled, as she streaks down the wet path, and then slips down to her knees and covers her head with her hands.

  What the hell’s happening?

  “Mary?” I hurry toward her, and stand over her, not sure how to get down on my knees while holding Octavia who’s blinking sleepy eyes at me. “What’s wrong?”

  “I knew this would happen,” my daughter wails, “I knew it. Stupid baby. I hate babies. Always killing.”

  Killing?

  “Put me down,” Octavia whispers, and I comply, mystified, in shock.

  I let her slide down. “Any idea what is going on?”

  “No, but I’m going to find out.” She kneels on the paved path, wet seeping into her dress. “Mary. Come here.”

  Mary looks up, eyes huge in her face, and launches herself at Octavia. Fuck, she should be more careful, and God, what have I done? Why is Mary in such a state?

  Going to my knees beside them, barely feeling the humidity soaking through my pants, I gather both of them to me. “We’re here.”

  “I thought you were dead,” Mary whispers. “Tati, I thought you were dead.”

  “Why would you think that?” Octavia asks, voice hushed.

  “The baby will kill you. It killed my mom. After she had Cole, she died.”

  My jaw goes slack. You’re kidding me? That’s what’s been on her mind all this time, what gave her nightmares?

  The fuck. I sure as hell didn’t see this one coming.

  * * *

  By the time Octavia’s mom comes out to see where my daughter is, I’ve decided my family needs some alone time to talk and sort things out. So I thank her, and she must see something on my face because she doesn’t even ask. She kisses Octavia, ruffles Mary’s hair, and then goes away with the reminder that Cole is inside his room, playing.

  Bringing my girls inside the house, I escort them to the bathroom and wait outside as they shower together. I sit on the bed and scrub my hands over my face, wondering for how long Mary has believed that Octavia would die once the baby came.

  Since we first told her about it, I guess. For the past four months, my baby girl has been living in fear that she’d lose Octavia, like she lost her mom.

  Why didn’t I see this? Why didn’t I sit her down to find out the problem?

  Stop.

  I could worry at this like a dog with a bone forever. Now I know. Now I will talk to her.

  Splashing noises and giggles come from inside the bathroom. I lean back, against the pillows, and close my eyes. My head is full of static. The sleepless night I passed and the stress of meeting Ross afterward is taking its toll on me.

  I’m dozing off, almost asleep, when a small body slams into mine, and small hands pat my cheeks. “Daddy.”

  “Cole,” I mutter, grinning. “What’s up, buddy?”

  “Missed you,” he says, and curls up beside me. He smells of baby powder and little boy.

  “Missed you, too.” I crack one eye to check on the bathroom. The splashing noises haven’t stopped yet. “How was it these past few days? Did the girls drive you crazy?”

  He giggles. “Yeah.”

  “I feel you.”

  “But I like girls,” he says seriously.

  “You and me both, buddy.”

  “I’ll marry one someday.”

  I glance sideways at him. “Okay. Thanks for the heads-up.”

  “She will be pretty, like Mom, and Octavia, and Gigi.”

  My fucking heart twists. “You got good taste, man, I’ll give you that.”

  He settles back, smirking. “But I won’t have a beard like you. I don’t like beards.”

  “Fair enough.”

  “Dad, is the baby a boy like me? I want a brother.”

  “I told you, Cole. We don’t know yet.” We didn’t want to find out if it’s a girl or a boy in advance. “Another sister would also be cool, too, right?”

  He shrugs, not looking convinced. “Sure.”

  He’s so damn funny, my son. I hug him a little harder. “I’m happy you’re here, Cole. You, and your sister, Octavia and the baby that’s coming… Gigi and Merc, Grandma and Gran.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Now the girls will come get dressed, and we’ll go downstairs have lunch, and talk.”

  “What about?”

  “The baby. You. Mary. Us. How we’ll be together no matter what, because we are a family, and we take care of each other.”

  “I like that.” He grins up at me.

  “Me too, Cole. Me too.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Octavia

  Mary wouldn’t let go after meeting us outside, clinging to me, and now she won’t let me out of her sight. I haven’t showered with her since she was six and so tiny I would crouch down to wash her hair, but right now prying my hand off her smaller one is a struggle.

  So we compromise. I shower quickly, wrap myself up in a huge fluffy towel, and sit outside the shower stall as she washes the mud off her.

  I’m waiting for her with another towel when she steps out. I wrap it around her and draw her into my arms. There’s another flutter in my belly, and I smile. Two of my kids here, with me.

  It’s an incredible feeling.

  “Hey, Mary,” I whisper. “It’s going to be okay. Do you trust me?”

  “Tati.” Mary holds on tight. “I don’t want you to die.”

  “I won’t. I promise you that.”

  “Please don’t die.” She doesn’t sound like she believes me. “We don’t need another baby. I want to keep you. You’re like… my mom. Please stay with us.”

  Oh God. “Nothing will happen to me. Having a baby doesn’t mean I’ll die, Mary. Are you listening to me?”

  But she looks away and says nothing, her small body shaking.

  How do I convince her I’ll be okay? I mean, barring accidents and unforeseeable problems, I should be fine. I’m careful, I keep my doctor appointments, everything looks all right.

  She shouldn’t be afraid on my account. Not any more than she should be on anyone else’s account, and she’s too young to be thinking of death at every turn of the way.

  “Let’s go get dressed,” I tell her. “We’ll have lunch with the boys.”

  “The boys?”

  “Matt and Cole.”

  “Dad is not a boy.”

  I smile, glad to take her mind off darker thoughts. “He’s a boy. A big boy.”

  “A big, big boy.” Mary snorts.

  “Yep. And we’ll eat, and sit together. And talk.”

  “What about?”

  “Everything.”

  Which, hopefully, after this talk, will be much better.

  * * * />
  Hand in hand, we make our way out and into the bedroom. My two favorite boys are on the bed, big grins on their faces—Matt and Cole.

  Sure, I love Merc, too, but he’s my little brother, that stinky little shit. Totally different thing.

  Mary divebombs the bed, causing panic. Matt scrambles to catch her, Cole kicks at her, and I just snicker standing there.

  My family.

  Matt grapples with his two kids, hauling them on his lap and enfolding them in a bearhug, a huge grin on his face. He’s happy. Relieved he’s back and found them okay. I wonder if he’ll ever be free of that anxiety.

  He deals with it better now, though. I think he’s been learning to live with it.

  Turning away with a smile, I pull out a dress and panties from the closet and go back into the bathroom to get dressed. By the time I come back out, Mary has run away to her bedroom to dress as well, and we pick her up on her way downstairs.

  She’s wearing a blue dress like mine. It strikes me how she’s been trying to dress like me lately, in dresses, her blond hair pulled back. My little princess.

  I take her hand, Matt takes Cole’s, and we make our way down, step by step.

  Mom has left us food in the fridge, like she usually does when she babysits, in case the kids get hungry and you know, the world ends and there’s nothing else to eat?

  We joke about it, but truth is we’re grateful. Mom is a good cook, and between running about for college, work and the kids, sometimes finding time for housework is hard.

  I heat up some of Mom’s signature lasagna, while Matt tosses together some greens for salad and Mary and Cole set the table. It’s a bit of déjà vu. For a moment I see at the table Evan and Melissa.

  I hope we’ll see them again soon. That he’ll find the strength to tell his girl the truth and that Matt will find a solution, like he promised.

  Matt pours the kids some cranberry juice, and we sit down to eat. Cole digs into his food happily, while Mary only nibbles at it and keeps stealing glances at me.

  Even though I’m starving, and I’m inhaling my food like a vacuum cleaner, I stop and put my fork down.

  Looks like this conversation can’t wait any longer. Matt meets my gaze and nods.

  “Mary, sweetheart… you have to believe me,” I say, reaching for her hand over the table. “I’ll be fine. Both me and the baby will be fine. We don’t have to choose.”

  “But Daddy…” She looks at him, her mouth trembling. “Tell Tati. She won’t believe me. Mom died when she had Cole. Tell her.”

  Cole’s fork clatters on his plate. He looks up at us with round blue eyes.

  Crap.

  “Mary, come here.” Matt turns sideways and opens his arms. “You too, Cole.” He waits until they hesitantly climb off their chairs and climb on his lap. He settles them there, a kid on each muscular thigh, hugging them close. “I’m gonna tell you a tale. A true story. About your Mom and me.”

  I put a hand over my mouth. I’ve never been jealous of his first wife, Emma. How can you be jealous of the dead? But heat gathers behind me eyes, and in my neck. I feel like I should get out of here, like I’m not part of this, and yet I can’t move away.

  I am part of this tale.

  “Once upon a time,” Matt says in his deep voice that I love so much, “I met this young woman whose name was Emma.”

  “Mom,” Cole says.

  “Your mom. She was so pretty. She told the silliest jokes. She had an adopted brother.”

  “Uncle Zane,” Mary says.

  “That’s the one. I loved her so much. I asked her to marry me, and she said yes. And then we had you two and we were so happy.”

  Tears slip down my cheeks, hot. I wipe at them hastily.

  “Your mom was fine after having you both. Having babies isn’t bad for you. But she got sick from something else, something that had nothing to do with you. I know losing her hurt. But that doesn’t mean anything will happen to Octavia.” He kisses Mary’s curls, then Cole’s forehead. “Trust me. You and Cole, you had nothing to do with your mom dying. Nothing at all.”

  Mary glances at me, lower lip tucked between her teeth. She seems to be wavering between believing us and keeping to her own beliefs. Looks like she clung to this idea since her mom passed away. That’s many years to put behind you in one stroke.

  “Mom loved us,” Cole says in that grave child-voice he has that makes my heart flip over.

  “She sure did,” Matt says, his voice a little rough.

  “And Tati loves us, too.”

  “Oh, I do,” I whisper, and give them a watery smile.

  “I think,” Cole says, “that when Mom saw she had to go, she sent Tati to be with us. Tati won’t leave us. She’s our mom now.”

  That’s it. These kids will break my heart to pieces. I get up shakily and kneel down at Matt’s feet so that I can put my arms around them. “I’m not leaving you. You have no idea how much I love you. And I’ll be your mom from now on, if you want me.”

  When they say yes, I cry so hard I can’t see, and all that keeps me from drowning in the floor of happiness is their arms around me, and Matt’s voice saying my name.

  It took us a while to get here, but I wouldn’t have had it any other way. I may have lost Ross, may have never been able to save him, but I have this family, and I should count my blessings.

  I’m so incredibly lucky.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Matt

  It’s a rough day. First Evan, then Ross, then Mary. I feel like I’ve been through the wringer, and yet I feel lighter than before. At least now I know what ate at Mary all these months, and although talking about their mom felt like slicing open my own heart, I think it made a difference.

  It feels like it, as we curl on the sofa all four of us, in front of the TV, even if Mary and Cole don’t fight about the show we’re watching, which is damn unusual. But Mary’s curled up against my side, sandwiched between me and Octavia, Cole sitting at our feet, and the defensive walls guarding her gaze seem to be down.

  She giggles when Octavia tickles her arm. She sticks her tongue out at me when I ask her about school. All said and done, she’s her old self.

  I just hope it lasts, and that we’ve convinced her things will turn out all right.

  The droning of the TV, combined with the day I’ve had, makes me drowsy. At first the ringing of the bell is like an echo from a dream—until Cole jumps up as if he has springs in his ass and runs to the door.

  What the fuck? Can’t a guy have a quiet evening with his family, after the emotional clusterfuck we just lived through?

  “Gigi!” Cole yells, and I sigh, rubbing at my eyes.

  “Want me to send her away?” Octavia whispers. “You look beat.”

  “You too,” I whisper back, “and I love you.”

  Shooting me a small grin, she ruffles Mary’s hair and gets up. “Not sending her away, then?”

  “Have you ever tried to send Gigi away?” I snort. “She’s here to see you, and she’ll get her way one way or another. Better treat it like a Band-Aid. Tear it off in one go.”

  “You comparing me to a Band-aid?” Gigi demands, entering the living room, led by Cole who’s determinedly tugging on her hand.

  Damn the girl’s super hearing. “Who me? Nah. What’s up, G?”

  She laughs as she grabs Octavia’s arm and pulls her close for a peck on the cheek. “Just popped in to see how your trip was. Was Destiny still where we left it?”

  “Why not?” Cole asks, looking worried.

  “Destiny will always be there,” Octavia says, smiling. “Just like we left it.”

  “Why ring the bell?” I mutter as I straighten on the sofa, Mary still clutched to my side. “You have keys to the house.”

  “Yeah, but I knew you guys were in. I couldn’t come in without knocking.” She perches on the armrest of the sofa, pulling Cole along. “Now tell me all about it! Did you find Evan? How is he? Did you see anybody else? Did you visit our old house
?”

  “We didn’t find the time,” Octavia says. “To visit the house, I mean. Besides, the couple who moved in painted it a garish green color, and I wasn’t so keen on seeing it that way.”

  I hadn’t even thought to ask her if she’d wanted to visit. I hope she’s telling the truth.

  The smile she sends my way reassures me, though.

  “Evan is okay,” I say. “He had a small accident, but he’s recovering fine. I have plans to see him more often from now on.” I stroke Mary’s hair. “You may see him, too.”

  “Thinking of inviting him to St. Louis?” asks Gigi who doesn’t miss a thing.

  “Maybe.”

  Octavia’s bright gaze is on me, and it’s a struggle not to tell her what’s on my mind. Soon I’ll know for sure, and I’ll talk to her. Talk to Evan.

  Gotta talk to Kaden first. Tomorrow.

  “How’s Merc, and Mom?” Octavia has her hand on her belly, and I wonder if the baby is kicking again.

  I want to go to her, put my hand over hers, but I have Mary nestled against my side, and tonight she needs all the reassurance I can give her. So I stay put.

  “Oh fine. You know Mom. She’s been baking nonstop for you. She’ll probably stop by tomorrow and unload a ton of cakes and cookies for all the babies.” She nods at Octavia with a grin. “Born and yet unborn.”

  “If she keeps doing that I’ll be like a whale by the time baby comes,” Octavia mutters, her cheeks reddening.

  “You? Nah.” Gigi clucks her tongue. “If I didn’t know you’re preggers, I wouldn’t have guessed. Mom says that’s how it often is with the first baby. Now, after you have the second, well…” She shrugs. “Boom. Whale-status.”

  “Gigi!” Octavia laughs. Her sister always manages to shock her and amuse her at the same time.

  But… more babies. I like the sound of that.

  And hey, what’s wrong with that, right? I love being a dad, running my little troupe, taking care of them, setting them on the straight path. Making sure they gather good memories to keep them happy when they grow up, that they know they’ll always have a home to come back to.