“Oh, I’d be delighted to help out.” Mother leans in and gives Everett another hug. He’s used to her affection now and accepts every hug easily.
“Excuse me, Everett,” the sister Sophia danced with, Eleanor, mutters from just beside my mother. Everett tenses beside me and I take his hand, squeezing it softly.
“Eleanor . . . does Mother need something?” he asks, his voice shaking ever so slightly.
“We’d all like to sign up for lessons. Mason recommended us,” she says. Everett’s mouth pops open and I can hear Mason laughing across the room.
“Seven out of ten!” my brother calls and Everett rolls his eyes.
I laugh softly, pressing a kiss to Everett’s temple. “You have to admit; he’s more clever than expected.”
Everett shakes his head before looking to his sister and saying, “I’ll get everyone a signup form before the end of the night.”
She nods before turning away. Pausing after a couple of steps, she looks back at Everett. “It’s really lovely, Everett. Mom is really impressed and . . . so am I. We all are. We’re sorry . . . about Dad.”
“Thank you. It’s okay,” Everett tells her. She hesitates a moment longer before turning and walking away. My mother and father watch her, as I do.
“I’m under the impression you’ve made some sort of deal with Mason,” Father says, drawing our attention away from the youngest Dawson daughter and the conversation that had just taken place. Everett reaches up and rubs his temples. I have a feeling two glasses of wine won’t be enough to ease his oncoming headache tonight.
“I told him if he got ten people to sign up for two lessons each, I’d give him free lessons.” Shaking his head, my father couldn’t have looked upon my husband with more pity.
“You’re going to be awfully busy in these coming weeks,” Father notes.
Mother perks up, a sudden grin lighting her features.
“I can help with whatever you need; not just the classes,” she volunteers.
Everett nods, his arm going around my waist.
“Thank you all,” he says, looking between my mother, father and me. “I really appreciate your support.”
“Hey,” Sophia speaks, breaking into our circle with Lilith at her side. “We want to sign up for private classes. Mason recommended us.” Everett’s mouth drops open and my gaze moves to Mason who is standing next to Duke now on the far side of the room. The pair are laughing and I have a feeling Duke is aware of Mason’s clever underhanded behavior.
“Do we get a family discount?” Lilith asked and I choked back a laugh.
“The first person to get ten people to sign up for two lessons each, will get two lessons for free,” Everett tells them. Sophia and Lilith look between each other.
“Eleanor—” Sophia shouts.
“Mrs. Dawson—” Lilith calls at the same time.
I shake my head at the pair and my husband’s cleverness as my siblings turn away in search of their victims. Of course, I doubt they’ll have an easy time of it as Mason did.
25
Following Everett around the arts and crafts room the children used with a black trash bag is not how I want to end my night but I voice no complaints as we try to get the studio in order. Despite the mess, I am happy that everything worked out well. The studio is already shaping up to be a success. All Everett has to do is keep the momentum going.
“You’re going to be spending a lot of time in the city,” I speak as he dumps a basket of ripped paper into the trash bag I hold.
“So far, at least four days a week,” he replies and I nod.
He will spend a lot of time driving between the estate and Necropolis. It isn’t a short trip but if he doesn’t mind the commute, so be it. I won’t be spending nearly as much time as him in the city but that is fine. I have always preferred to work from home, distanced from the pulsing streets most people make their lives along.
“I’d say if you need anything to call me, but I’m positive I’d be utterly useless. My mom seems as if she’ll be helpful, though. Inviting her to help teach the children was nice. It’s been a long time since I saw her really excited about something.” She stuck close and gushed about helping the children most of the night. She and Everett had run down a rabbit hole, feeding off one another as they discussed projects the children will enjoy.
“I’m excited, too,” Everett tells me while putting some coloring supplies that had been left out away. “I’m nervous, too. Mom signed up for group classes with my sisters. What if it doesn’t go well?” he asks. Setting the trash bag down, I grasp his elbow and pull him to a stop. He looks up at me with a raised eyebrow.
“Mrs. Dawson seems like a sensible woman. Eleanor seems like a lovely young lady. Maybe your other sisters are trolls—” Everett makes a noise of protest in the back of his throat, “—who didn’t receive proper home training. If that is the case, you don’t have to give anyone lessons.” I run my hand over his shoulder. “If it goes badly, just refund their money and ask them to leave.” I don’t want him to be abused in his shop by his family or anyone for that matter.
“I can’t do that to my mom. She’s my mom. She hasn't always been the best but . . . I love her,” he mutters.
Pulling him against my chest, my hand splays against his spine as he curls his arms around my waist before I reply, “I’m under the impression she loves you, too.”
He sighs, pressing his face against my chest and I squeeze him.
“It’s been a long day. I’m ready to go ho—” My phone rings, cutting off Everett’s response. Digging in my pocket, I pull out the device and view the screen.
“It’s Mason,” I explain while sliding my finger along the front. “Hello?” He wouldn’t call without good reason. Maybe the idiot forgot something and expects me to play mailman. It isn’t happening. As soon as Everett and I are done here, we are going home.
“Someone is following us,” he stammers.
“Where are you?” I demand; my heart squeezes.
Why would anyone be following them? It is ridiculous. Maybe they are imagining things.
“Almost home,” Mason whispers and I close my eyes.
What if someone is following them? What if they go home and something happens to them? I’ll never forgive myself if I am not proactive in their protection. Just because David Dawson has been collared doesn’t mean our many other adversaries have disappeared. There will always be people who want my family dead.
“We are still at the studio,” I tell him. “Don’t stop; just come back.”
“Thanos says to come back to the studio,” Mason speaks to who I assume is my dad. He is the one who was driving when they left. “Dad is turning around now.” Everett looks up at me, his lips pressed into a thin line. I try to offer him a reassuring smile but it falls flat.
“What’s wrong?” he whispers.
“Someone may be following them,” I relay the information I’ve been given.
“Oh no,” Everett gasps, his fingers curling in the front of my shirt. “Should we call Duke? He’ll . . . ” Everett trails off, maybe not sure what Duke can or will do. I shake my head.
“It could be nothing and I don’t want to bother him if it is so let's wait,” I say.
Everett pulls away and begins to pace. “How far away are they?” he questions.
They left fifteen minutes ago.
“Ten or so minutes; they should be here shortly. Don’t worry,” I tell him before reaching out and grasping his hand to pull him to a stop.
He shakes his head. “I can’t help but worry.”
“I know,” I reply, pulling him against me. Mason is silent but I can hear his breathing and one of my sisters talking in the background. “Why don’t we go unlock the door for when they get here?” I question Everett and he nods, stepping back.
Leaving the arts and crafts room half cleaned, we venture to the front of the studio. Streetlights blare through the glass windows as Everett unlocks the door and we step outside.
A mild breeze does nothing to beat back the humid scorch that has engulfed Necropolis for weeks now. With the sun down, it should be cooler but it simply isn’t.
“We’re five minutes away,” Mason mutters as I drop my arm around Everett’s shoulder.
“We’re here, Mason; just tell Dad to keep driving.” If they are being followed, it is doubtful the person will try anything on a public street. Once they arrive, we can all go into the studio and calm down. It is probably nothing anyway.
“The car is still behind us and we’re about to hit a red light,” Mason whispers.
I ask myself again, ‘What if someone is following them?’
“They turned around when Dad did?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Mason replies. Flicking my tongue out, I wet my lips.
“Tell Dad to take a right at the light as soon as he can if it doesn’t turn green first. Don’t come to the studio.” I can’t protect them here. We would all just be sitting ducks. “Just keep driving around the city.” They can’t go home but nor could they stop somewhere either.
“Thanos said . . . ” Mason repeats my message to our father.
“I’m going to connect Duke to the call,” I inform Mason. “Once I do, I want you to tell him where you are.” Before Mason can reply, I pull the phone away from my ear and press the button to add someone to the call. Duke’s phone starts ringing as Everett leans against my side. His fingers curl into my shirt and I put my arm around him in comfort.
“If you keep calling late like this, I might have to explain to Everett he isn’t the only bottom in your marriage.” I roll my eyes because he is an idiot. Also because lately it seems as if every time I speak to him it is only to deliver bad news or ask for his help.
When was the last time I called to check on him or invite him out?
“Mason thinks they are being followed. He’s going to tell you where they are.” I connect the call, knowing Duke doesn’t need any more prompting to help. “Mason?”
“I’m here,” he answers.
“Hey, buddy—” Duke says, his voice calm and much more professional than it had been just a moment before, “—can you tell me where you are? Do you know the street address or see any familiar landmarks?”
“We’re a couple minutes away from that cafe with the mega muffins and delicious cookies on Choice Avenue.” I know where that is.
“Can you tell me anything about the vehicle following you?” Duke questions.
Mason is silent for a moment. “Maybe a dark green color? It’s an SUV. It’s hard to tell.”
There is a shuffle on the end of the phone but I don’t know if it came from Mason or Duke.
“Tell Poppyseed to keep driving. If he makes a turn, let me know.”
“Okay,” Mason agrees.
“434 to Dispatch, show me en route to Choice Avenue headed toward East Aloe Road. I received a call on my cellphone about a suspicious vehicle following Richard Right. Vehicle is described as a dark green SUV. Complainant is in a 2016 Navy Blue Honda Civic. If you have any available units, have them head that way.”
I hold the phone out to Everett and he looks at it in confusion.
“I need you to give me directions if anything changes.” Taking the phone, he nods in agreement and we head toward my car. Both of us are silent as I navigate the slowest traffic I’ve ever encountered in Necropolis. Everyone seems as if they are moving at a snail’s pace.
“Duke is there,” Everett mutters. “They’re a little past Candlewick Drive, pulled over in front of the old music store.” I nod and focus on the road. A growl of irritation bubbles in my throat when I get stuck at yet another red light. Everett lays his hand against my thigh and I exhale. Forcing myself to calm down, I drive with less insanity.
By the time I am pulling up behind Duke’s vehicle, no one else is on site. My dad is standing slightly away from his car as he speaks to my best friend. “Stay here,” I tell Everett before climbing out of my car; I walk toward the pair. “Is everything okay?”
“No, Poppyseed is being a stubborn bastard and refusing to file a report.” I shove my fingers into my hair and look between my father and best friend. Duke groans in frustration. “Come on, man. This is my job. I can’t do anything if you don’t let me.”
“No one is hurt. Did you even see the vehicle they mentioned?” I ask. Duke sighs and shoves one of his hands into his pocket. “Maybe everyone had a little too much wine. It’s been a long day and tired people see things all the time.” It could have been nothing.
“I’ve never met a more stubborn pair of men,” Duke grumbles. I laugh softly.
“Maybe everyone should come to the estate for a few nights as a precaution,” I suggest.
I have room and it would be kind of nice to have my family in house for a few days.
“I’m not leaving the city,” Father says, before looking toward the car, “but you should take your siblings.” It doesn’t escape my notice that he doesn’t include Mother in the list of people I should take. She would refuse the same as him.
“I’m going to follow you home—” Father opens his mouth. “No arguments, old man.” He huffs but doesn’t say whatever it is he intended to say. “After they are settled, I’ll come to the estate.” I shake my head at Duke. It is late now. Before he gets my parents home and makes it to the estate, it will be well past midnight.
“Come tomorrow. We’ll be fine on the estate,” I tell him. I have guards for a reason.
“Tomorrow,” Duke agrees.
Father opens up the back driver's side door and reveals a sleepy Lilith.
“You guys are going to stay with Thanos for a couple days,” Father tells them.
“But—” Lilith starts.
“I’ll bring clothes and anything else you need tomorrow,” Duke tells her. She’ll need her medication more than anything and we all understand that. Lilith nods and yawns while Sophia and Mason slap excited fives as if they weren’t just worried about being trailed by a dark green SUV.
“You three be good for your brother,” Mother calls from inside of the car as her three lesser children get out.
“Not a chance,” Mason tells her, tossing his arm around Lilith and Sophia as the trio trot toward my car and Everett. I shake my head, knowing he is going to cause problems just because he can. Sophia will join in and if Lilith is having a good day, she’ll help them be little assholes of the highest degree.
“Take care of them, Athanasios,” Father speaks, his fingers curling around my shoulder. I search his face, seeing a lifetime of worry in the vast green forest jungle.
“Get them hammered and feed them taquitos; got it.” Father rolls his eyes and I laugh softly.
“Let’s get you home,” Duke tells Father and the old man releases me.
“Call me tomorrow,” I tell Father.
“Let us know when you are settled at the estate,” he counters. I nod. He gets into the car and turns the engine.
“Stay with them tonight,” I tell Duke. He salutes me, gets into his own car. I exhale, watching the two pull into traffic and leave before turning to my own car.
My house is going to resemble an asylum soon and I am not sure if I am a patient or doctor.
26
It is too hot for a bonfire but we build one anyway. High flames roar toward the sky. The heat comes off of it in uncomfortable waves. No matter how I angle my body, I feel as if I am roasting under the sun. The abhorrent sensation is one I am intimately familiar with. Prickles of unease dance across the back of my neck as Sophia leans toward the blaze.
“We’re almost out of marshmallows,” she says, turning the one on the end of her shaved stick over in the fire. The white ball is engulfed in black crusty flakes by the time she extracts it from the inferno. Lilith scraps it off the stick with a graham cracker until it is cradled between two and a single piece of chocolate. Both girls share a triumphant smile.
“Maybe if you’d stop hogging them, we wouldn’t be,” Mason tells her before taking a bi
te out of the s’more he’s just finished putting together. Chocolate oozes from the bottom and drips onto his shirt but he doesn’t seem to notice or care about the gooey mess.
“Huh?” Sophia replies.
I lean into my husband to whisper in his ear, “I should have brought diaper wipes along for the children to clean up with.”
Everett looks toward me, chocolate streaked across his cheek. My chest shakes softly as I laugh. Reaching out, my thumb moves over the dark stain and I clean it away. He flushes, pulling his index finger from between his lips. It is still smeared with chocolate, too.
Lilith’s laughter pulls my gaze away from Everett. Sophia is stuffing another marshmallow, this one not roasted, between her lips while Mason glares.
Duke says, “You’re just giving her more to horde.”
I look over the group and conclude since Mason now lacks a marshmallow, he’d thrown one at Sophia. She caught it and is currently chewing it. The youngest Right male should have known better but he always has to learn lessons the hard way.
I don’t feel bad for him and his loss since he does it to himself.
“We’ve got more in the cooler,” Everett tells them. Sophia and Mason’s head snap to the blue and white box that sits against a tree with the rest of our supplies about twenty free away.
“You’re not supposed to tell the beast,” I inform Everett even as the pair of siblings get up and start moving toward the box. With each step, they go faster until they are both running.
Mason is a second away from overtaking Sophia when she kicks out. He almost misses her foot but doesn’t quite make it. Face planting in the dirt, he groans; we all laugh at his failure as she jerks the lid to the cooler open and claims her prize with a victory grin.
Clearly it isn’t smart to get between Sophia Right and what she desires.
“You’re a mean, evil, little beast,” Mason remarks, pushing himself to his hands and knees.
“Did you just call me little?” Sophia asks, pausing next to him. He huffs and she uses the bottom of her foot to push him over so he falls sideways into the dirt again. For good measure, she pops one of the marshmallows in her mouth before she turns away from him.
After The I Do Page 17