Knots

by Chanse Lowell

  Mark came up behind them, hugged them both, turning it into a group huddle and then kissed them both on the head, leaving directly after.

  No “Bye, see you later,” or “Love you.” He figured Jeanie needed to feel what it would be like to continue hiding their feelings for each other. It was unnatural to do that, and he meant for this to be permanent. She needed to figure out if that was what she wanted as well.

  He drove to work, focusing on the things he needed to get done today, rather than dwelling on her.

  Those thoughts would no doubt plague him sporadically throughout the day, but he’d do his best to keep them in the back of his mind.

  No love texts today.

  No phone calls.

  This was her day to make decisions and see what her life could be.

  A plan formed in his head.

  If she stayed the weekend with him, he knew what to do to help drive his point home.

  When he parked in his covered spot, the security guard waved at him like he always did.

  He stepped out of the car and managed to smile, though his chest was tight and banding his heart like steel girders.

  “Hey, howzit?” he said to the Samoan guy in uniform, Apelu.

  “It’s hanging,” Apelu replied, smiling and relaxed as usual.

  “Nothing to report?” Mark stood at the entrance, waiting for some smart-ass reply to come.

  “Heading back home to the big island in a week. Gotta go see my sis. She had another baby.” Apelu gave him the shaka sign, his thumb and pinky extended on his right hand, the rest of his fingers curled into his palm. He shook his hand and head at him, signaling everything was cool.

  “Take it easy, brah. Say hi to your braddah for me, and remind him da offer’s still open,” Mark said, smiling.

  “Yeah, I told him tons of times. He says he doesn’t want to be no security guard and doesn’t need your help. He’s still givin’ me shit about takin’ your help to get this position.” Apelu went cross-eyed and laughed while he pretended to strangle his brother.

  This was exactly why Mark made sure they hired this man. Not only did he remind him of Pono, his buddy, but he was easy to get along with, and his massive size was intimidating as well.

  “Don’t work too hard . . .” Apelu called out. “Not good for you. People die from stress or somethin’ like dat.”

  Mark laughed, waved, then went inside.

  Maybe he needed to show Jeanie how well he fit in with Pono’s family? She wasn’t aware he understood and loved their customs and culture. She’d never seen him there with Pono and how well he integrated.

  He sighed, waved at the usual people and went back to his office.

  His first appointment was due to arrive in fifteen minutes.

  He booted up his computer, went to the small corner table, straightened up the puzzles from yesterday, then checked on the mini fridge to determine if it had some juice boxes and bottled water available.

  Next, he made sure the stuffed animals, cars and various toys were in the toy box and the bean bag chairs were fluffed up. Couldn’t have a saggy bean bag.

  He smiled as he stared out the window.

  Lindsey was early with her daughter, Ashlen. The little girl’s blonde, curly head bounced along as they made their way through the parking lot.

  God, he loved his job.

  The minute they were inside his door, he greeted the little girl with a fist bump. She hugged him right after like she always did, and then he shook hands with her mother, Lindsey, putting his other hand on her shoulder, squeezing as he helped her over to a cushioned seat in front of his desk.

  Rather than sitting behind his desk, he sat next to her in the other cushioned seat.

  Ashlen was already playing with a baby doll and pretending to change its diaper.

  “How’s the commercial shoot going?” he asked Lindsey.

  “Fine. I told them you didn’t need to be there, but they kept hassling me.” She rolled her eyes.

  “You’ve done this so many times already—don’t they know you’re a pro by now?” he said, shaking his head and laughing.

  “Apparently not. Such amateurs,” she said, shaking her head now as well. She snorted. “We were early, so I helped get Ashlen ready and everything, and they acted like I was some kind of ogre, spewing green toxic waste from my nostrils. What’s their problem?” She looked over at her daughter, playing contentedly on the ground.

  The natural light from the window made her hair look like it was filled with pixie dust.

  He smiled. Ashlen loved glitter. She wore it in her hair, on her hands and sometimes on her clothes.

  It cracked him up. She was sweet, though, not one of those diva brats.

  “What can I do to help? I can definitely be at the shoot today. I planned on working late to help out with this,” he said, setting his palms on his thighs and leaning forward a little.

  “Yeah, maybe you should be there after all. I know they’d relax, and if they saw you trusted me I’m sure they’d back off. I don’t know why I got lazy on this one. It works every time.” She threw her hands up in the air, then held them there for a second with her shoulders wrapped up by her neck, like a scarf. “Every stinking time. I bring you on day one and then it goes smoothly the rest of the time. How do you do that, and why did I think we could skip that step this time?”

  “I don’t know . . . Confidence, and you deserve to be self-assured. You’ve done an amazing job of raising her, so she’s not like a lot of the other kids I see that I refuse to represent. Not once has she been demanding on set, thrown a tantrum or anything, and she’s almost five. Even when she was a baby, doing this, she was always calm. She knew you were there—never leaving her side. It’s admirable the way you’ve managed it all.” He clapped his hand on his leg and stood. “We’ll show them there’s a reason you’re on set and you don’t just leave her there for them to handle. They need you—they just don’t know it yet.” God, those words stung because that was his situation with Jeanie.

  She didn’t know she needed him yet.

  “You’re right!” She stood and went over to Ashlen, petting her hair. “They haven’t even let her sing. They’re forgetting that’s why she’s there.” She gazed at the top of her daughter’s head, then looked back at him. “When are you gonna have one of your own? You’ve known Ashlen since she was a baby, and you were never afraid to hold her, help change her diapers, or anything. You’re so great with kids. What are you waiting for?”

  He swallowed lightly and puffed out his cheeks for a moment. What to say? “Need a willing partner, obviously, and so far haven’t found one. I’d love to have a big family someday with tons of kids running around.” His eyes wanted to mist, but he refused to let them.

  The only woman he could ever see doing that with was Jeanie.

  “You’ll find her soon. I can feel it.” Lindsey put a hand over her heart and sighed as her shoulders slumped. “I know you’ll have that family soon. You’re too good a man to not have that.” She inhaled quickly, and then her face lit up.

  Oh no! Not that.

  “Hey, you’re not setting me up.” He cut off her thoughts he could see churning in her head.

  “No, not that.” She shook her head and laughed. “No one wants that.” Another laugh and a tilt of her head, and she said, “You need to let the next woman you’re interested in see you at work. They’ll melt into a puddle of ovarian goo once they see how well you protect these little guys and girls. You’re the best in the business, and that’s why we chose you. I wasn’t going to let just anyone be Ashlen’s agent. I knew you’d protect her—and you have, every single time without fail. If that doesn’t make a woman beg you to procreate with her, then I don’t know what will.”

  His smile tightened, along with his ribs, squeezing his breath out. “Yeah, I’m sure it would work like magic pixie dust.”

  He glanced at Ashlen, smiling up at him, and he strangled the hope in his chest, leaking out into his thoug
hts.

  Kids. They got to him every damn time.

  He’d adopt if that was the route Jeanie wanted to go, but then . . .

  He groaned under his breath and turned back to the window. Jeanie had to stop fighting him on every fucking thing before they could even broach that subject.

  There was a reason he didn’t bring his work home. He didn’t want it to hurt Jeanie and have her feel inadequate with her fertility issues she’d struggled through over the last few years.

  Christ—did she even know he was aware she was dealing with this?

  He wasn’t sure. And would it even matter?

  Right now, at this point, he wondered if she’d even stay in California past tonight, let alone remain in his life, so it was all a moot point anyway.

  If he never had a family of his own, he’d keep getting small doses of children at work, and doing his damnedest to keep them unsoiled by the industry.

  It was what kept him going—knowing he was doing a service for them most other agents ignored. Children were innocent and needed protection. He provided that and protected the parents as well.

  The shit could cover his hands to keep theirs clean.

  Fine with him.

  At the end of the day, he knew how to get rid of it—burning off the excess with some bondage and play.

  Only he might need a new sub soon . . .

  His heart ripped at the thought—and once more, he fought to keep his eyes dry.

  “Ready?” he asked Ashlen.

  “Yeah. We get to sing now?”

  “Yep!” He started singing “You Are My Sunshine,” to get her going.

  Like all the previous times, she took over, and he listened to his heart’s content.

  And somehow everything was better, even if it was temporary and the glitter would wear off soon.

  Chapter 14

  Jeanie stretched her back and massaged the lower half as best she could. The ducks were quacking incessantly, but she ignored it even if it was giving her a splitting headache.

  She twisted her spine to get it to unkink once more. What she wouldn’t do to have Mark’s hands doing the job justice.

  She was always weak at massages. Her hands were little and never seemed strong enough, but then she’d be digging her hands in, trying to knead Pono’s sore muscles, and he was a big guy.

  She glanced around and tried not to feel like she was a nuisance to them by being here.

  Marly was inside, watching TV.

  Jay was working on his car, changing the oil or something. She wasn’t sure.

  They said hi like she was nothing more than the postman.

  Her breath stuck in her throat and seemed to lodge there permanently.

  No one was angry, but she was being ignored.

  Was this how this family was on any given day? Was this why Pono ignored her most of the time?

  He grew up this way?

  Even Toloa, working in the garden beside her, failed to say much.

  She grunted a few things here and there, but kept quiet for the most part.

  It was awkward, and Jeanie had no idea what to do with herself.

  Toloa didn’t give much instruction, so Jeanie would pull weeds and do whatever she thought was helpful.

  Helpless and feeling utterly useless, she kept berating herself mentally for not speaking up.

  “I’m sorry,” she wanted to say, “for not trusting you to handle the truth and accept me. I was afraid I wasn’t good enough, and you wouldn’t have a reason to keep me in your family.” If Mark was here, he’d say those things for her, opening up communication.

  Her inept body scratched at the soil, failing to get much done. It wasn’t as bad, though, as her feeble mind, coming up with excuses for why she was coated in guilt over taking charge in the garden at times without permission, and then plagued with the repeating question of why she couldn’t simply ask Toloa what she wanted her to do.

  The words wouldn’t come. It was the damned roadblock in her throat, she told herself.

  But honestly, it wasn’t. She knew it.

  She’d never been good at asking. That was why she did the same with Pono. She guessed what he wanted, took over and did it, and all the while felt like shit for being so overbearing and bossy.

  She hated being that type of woman, but there didn’t seem any other way to handle it.

  If she was brave, she’d help each of them. She’d reach out to Jay, help with his car repairs.

  Find out what Marly was watching and join her.

  But no. She lurked in the garden, skulking around like a creepy little gnome or something equally disturbing.

  “Ma! Lunch!” Marly demanded from the doorway of the house.

  “Just a minute,” Toloa huffed back, then struggled to her feet.

  Jeanie scrambled over to help her but wasn’t fast enough.

  They were both coated in mud.

  “Here—let’s go wash off,” Toloa said, heading over to the hose.

  Those few simple words set Jeanie at ease.

  Why?

  Why did she crave someone else holding the reins?

  What was her problem that she couldn’t figure this stuff out for herself?

  Jeanie didn’t know the answer, but she beamed at Toloa when her mother-in-law grabbed her hands and then helped her wash them.

  “Thanks,” Jeanie said. She was tiny like a small child, begging for more of this type of interaction. Or, at least, she could tell her eyes were doing that for her.

  They stomped the mud off the bottoms of their shoes as they tromped through the yard up to the back door.

  Toloa removed her still slightly soiled shoes, and Jeanie followed suit.

  Once inside, she wasn’t sure what to do with herself. Did she help in the kitchen with lunch? Did she hang out with Marly? It seemed kind of ungrateful to do that, so she followed Toloa into the kitchen.

  Toloa swung around to grab something on the counter, unaware Jeanie was there, and stumbled back, slamming her hip into the counter.

  She flinched on impact.

  “Oh my God! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to . . .” Jeanie tried to help her off the counter.

  Toloa was out of breath, and though she kept her eyes down, there was pain and frustration there.

  “Why don’t you go rest? Take a break,” Toloa offered.

  “O-kay,” Jeanie squeaked and skirted out of the kitchen. She was the biggest waste of space around.

  Couldn’t she do anything right?

  Before she realized it, she was back out in the garden, barefoot and sitting in the spot she and Mark had chatted in almost two weeks ago.

  Thoughts of him calmed her.

  Why was she so lost without him?

  She pulled out her phone and shot him a quick, mindless text.

  Hope your day’s going well . . .

  That was it? That was all she had to say?

  And then it hit her—he hadn’t attempted to contact her at all today.

  She groaned and her head fell back. Her eyes moistened as they followed the few puffy clouds floating by.

  Why did she need guidance like a small child?

  Other adults didn’t need this, so why did she?

  She relaxed into the swing and wished her life made more sense.

  A few minutes later, she roamed back inside and changed out of her grubby clothes so she wouldn’t get their furniture dirty.

  When she entered the dining area, they were eating without her at the table.

  Oh crap. They probably got sick of waiting on her broody PMSing attitude.

  Jay patted the chair next to him, wordlessly telling her to eat up.

  The food might not last.

  She knew how it went. They would eat all of it whether she was there or not.

  So why was she shocked? They weren’t being rude—just giving her space.

  A part of her knew Mark wouldn’t have done that. He would have found her, sat her ass down, fed her by hand if needed an
d then waited patiently for her to spill her guts on what was bugging her.

  A swelling in her heart had her breathless and seizing up inside.

  She wanted that. She wanted to matter and feel like she was the whole world to somebody.

  And Mark did that all the time.

  So why did she fight it so much?

  You’re unworthy . . .

  Yes, she was.

  She dipped her head, grabbed a tuna sandwich and put it on her plate.

  They ate in silence—well, except Marly.

  She was begging to go out tonight, but Toloa refused and avoided the topic.

  “Please! I’ll be good,” Marly whined.

  “No. You didn’t behave last night. Mark said you were fine, but I could tell he was just being polite. You behaved rudely even though we were nice and let you out on a weeknight. I could tell with the way he told us . . .” Toloa drifted off and went back to eating.

  “You’re blaming this on me?”

  “No. We’re not talking about it,” her mother said.

  Jeanie swallowed hard and wished she was anywhere but here.

  The fault was all hers, not Marly’s.

  If she’d told them herself, instead of forcing Mark to do it, maybe things wouldn’t have blown up like that.

  Jeanie lifted her stiff head, set her palms on the table and inhaled before blurting, “It’s my fault. I was a coward, and Mark wanted you to know since we both care about you. I’m sorry it had to come from him instead of me.”

  “It’s fine,” Toloa said, pretending like it didn’t matter.

  “It’s not fine. I’m . . . I still want to be part of this family. I love you guys, but I’m . . . I guess I felt guilty for being happy with Mark so soon after . . .” God, her throat cemented shut.

  Tears rolled down her cheeks.

  “It’s not your fault.” Toloa turned to her. “And you’re entitled to do whatever you like. You’re a grown woman. We can’t dictate your life for you.”

  “Sometimes I wish you would,” Jeanie squeaked out, swiping her tears away with the backs of her hands. Her stomach was a mess, filled with angry hornets based on the way it was stinging and going nauseous.

  “Don’t you worry about us. You only tell us what you want us to know. We want to be part of your life, too,” Jay said, smiling with a fond, affectionate look.