by Emilia Finn
She and Ben slow about twenty feet away and study my car as I turn back to find Lyss nodding.
I open the car door, push it wide, and stepping out in blue jeans and work boots that roast my feet, I groan at the ability to straighten my long legs after so many hours being cooped up. I reach for the sky as Lyss climbs across my seat, then I overarch my spine and groan some more when my back cracks, and grab Lyss when, instead of climbing to the ground, she stands on my seat and lifts her hands.
My girl is big now, tall, and heavy. It’s not often that she asks me to carry her around. But today, under the stare of these people she hardly knows, she climbs up my body and wraps her legs as far around my hips as she can manage. She brings the doll with her, squishes it between our bodies, then lays her head on my shoulder when Evie takes our being vertical as invitation.
“Iowa. It’s crazy good to see you.” Her grin is large and infectious as she steps out from under Ben’s arm, only to step in and pull me in for a hug that ends with her jumping back with a screwed nose. “You got sick again?” she asks Lyss. Tilting her head, she makes a sad face. “Big drive?”
Lyss, remembering Miss Kincaid from our previous visits, lifts her head from my shoulder and nods. “I don’t like driving.”
“Me neither.” Evie reaches out, but only to stroke Lyss’ hand. “Driving sucks, and getting sick sucks so much more.”
“We smell a little bit.” An embarrassed tinge warms my face. “I’m sorry. We don’t really—”
“It’s okay. Don’t be silly. You guys can grab a shower in just a second. That’ll make you both feel better.”
“Iowa.” Ben steps forward and takes my hand in a fast pump that vibrates right up into my shoulder. “Glad you made it safe and sound.”
“I wasn’t sure we would. Somewhere around the seven-hour mark, I wondered if the trip would ever end.”
“Long day?”
“The longest.”
I release his hand and fix Lyss on my hip.
“Can we… uh…” I look up when Bobby Kincaid steps out of the house Evie ran out of, and stops on his porch to study us. “You’d be doing me a solid if you pointed us toward a shower before we have to meet everyone else.”
“I’ve got you. Come on.”
Evie grabs my sleeve and drags me to the house directly in front of my car. Along the cobblestone driveway, over a row of daisies, up the steps, and into the house that was already unlocked, she stops in the sparsely furnished living room and takes Ben’s hand when he follows us in.
“Welcome home. All of the basic furniture is here – couch, beds, appliances. Plus towels, sheets, curtains, tea towels, utensils, plate ware. Everything you need. But anything you want to personalize the place, you’re free to add. Nails in the walls or whatever, go for it. Kitchen straight ahead.” She points in the direction of the stainless-steel appliances and the island counter that is bigger than the entirety of our former kitchen.
The counter is bigger.
She leads us through the living room, filled with an L-shaped leather couch, sheer curtains that show off the yard outside, then into the main foyer by the front door.
“Laundry is that way.” She points ahead to a space sort of behind and below the stairs. “Washer, dryer, and all of the products you’ll need are already in there.” She heads up the stairs and leaves me no time to marvel at the marble flooring, the iron banisters, the elegant carpet that lines the stairs and will for sure end up stained – kids are messy – and taken out of the deposit I’ve yet to even pay on the place.
Evie turns left when she reaches the landing, opens door after door as she goes. “Bedroom for Lyss. There’s a bed in there, closet, a little desk, since she’s going to big school this year.” She turns back and grins at my girl. “Are you excited for big school?”
Lyss shakes her head and buries her face against my neck.
“She’s a little nervous,” I supply. “Being scared is okay, though, isn’t it, baby?” I brush her hair behind her ear. “But being brave means we do it anyway. It means facing what scares us and doing it anyway.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
Evie grins and continues on her little tour. “Spare bedroom. There’s a bed in there too. Bathroom.”
She pushes the door open to reveal regal tiles, a bath that I swear is bigger than my bed back in the old apartment, jet sprays built into the side, a massive counter that takes up an entire wall, and a double sink that sends my imagination racing toward my daughter and I brushing our teeth in tandem. Mirrors line that entire wall, and lights line those like this bathroom was built for a woman that likes to play with makeup.
“I went shopping,” Evie says. “Toothbrushes, toothpaste, all of that sorta stuff. It’s in the drawers. Whatever you don’t like or want, just leave it.”
“You didn’t have to…” I frown and follow her back into the hall. “I mean… thank you. I appreciate you doing this.”
She shrugs. “I knew you had a long drive, and dropping in to the store wouldn’t be your first thought, so I did it for you. I got the basics – bread, milk, cereal, all of that stuff. It’s enough to get you started and fed. Once you’re ready, I can show you where the store is in town, and you can get the stuff you want.”
“Jonah’s?” I ask. “On Main Street?”
She nods and continues walking. “You got it. That’s where we shop. If you want bulk stuff, or labeled stuff, you’ll have to shop online, or make the drive into the city. Your room…”
She stops at the top of the hall and pushes the door open to reveal a lake-sized bed that makes my knees weak. Four-poster, as fluffy as a cloud, and across from it, a wide set of drawers, with a TV perched on top.
“Jesus. We might never leave.”
She chuckles and lets herself into the room. “This place is in your contract. For as long as you stay in contract, this is your home. My aunt is a school teacher and lives just across from here, so if Lyss needs a ride, Britt will have your back.”
“That’s The Jackhammer’s wife?”
Evie’s laughter comes out in piggy snorts. “The Jackhammer. He’s such a jackass for taking that name. Here,” she gestures toward the door, “on this estate, he’s just Uncle Jack. And yes, Aunt Britt the teacher is his wife. They’re busy procreating and creating their own little army right now, but Aunt Britt will be going back to work when school’s in. Another week to go. She can help you get Lyss signed up, too. It’s handy knowing people in high places.”
I scoff and follow when she continues through the room that is allegedly now mine. “Before meeting you guys, I couldn’t relate to that statement. But I guess now I can.” I follow her into the attached bathroom and barely swallow down my groan. “I get my own bathroom?”
She turns to me and grins.
“I’ve never had my own bathroom,” I admit. “Like, literally ever. I was sharing at home when I was a kid, then with Lyss’ mom, then Lyss.”
“Well, now you can lap up the high life,” she laughs. “Enjoy your bathroom.”
She looks to Lyss. “But that means you get your own bathroom too, huh? All yours. And maybe when you’re settled in, me and the other ladies can come over. We’ll bring lots of pretties for your hair, and we’ll play.”
“Pretties?” Lyss looks from Evie, to Ben, then to me. “What’s a pretty?”
“Oh, anything that sparkles.” She reaches forward and gently fingers Lyss’ earrings. “We call those pretties. But also,” She takes a pink hair tie from her wrist, “we also call these pretties. Anything pretty and shiny will do. Me, and Bean, and maybe Brookey and the others could bring all sorts of hair ribbons and earrings and stuff, and we could mess your bathroom up the way it’s supposed to be messed up.” She casts a sly peek over at my face, then back to Lyss. “If your daddy gets mad, we’ll just distract him.”
“My daddy doesn’t get mad,” Lyss proudly announces. She broadens her chest, lifts her chin.
“Never?” Evie asks. “For real?
”
Lyss nods. “For real. Never ever.”
“Holy cow, kid. My daddy is always mad. I’m a grownup now, and he still gets mad about stuff.”
“Maybe you’re a naughty girl,” Lyss whispers. “Are you naughty?”
Evie throws her head back and laughs. Then she brings it back and nods. “Some would say that I’m naughty. Depends who you’re asking, I suppose.”
“No,” Ben drawls. “It doesn’t matter who you ask.”
“I stole eight dogs that first time I met you,” Evie admits on a sly whisper.
“Stole?” Lyss gasps. “Stealing is bad!”
“I know!” Evie cackles. “But it was so much fun. Now Cass is mine, and her puppies are slowly finding homes.”
“No.” I shake my head as soon as Lyss’ pleading eyes come to me. “We can’t get a puppy.”
“There’s a dog across the street at my Uncle Jack’s,” Evie says. “If you ever want puppy snuggles, just go over there and knock on the door. You’ll find what you’re looking for.”
Again, Lyss looks to me.
I shake my head. “Don’t knock on anyone’s door unless Daddy is with you.” I look to Evie. “Don’t say things like that. It’s dangerous.”
Chastised, she nods. “Sorry, you’re right. I grew up here with that kind of freedom. But Lyss… and you…” she nods. “My bad. Don’t go anywhere without your daddy’s permission, okay?”
She strokes Lyss’ hand one last time before backing away. “Anyway, tour’s done. Grab a shower, get comfortable, then come on out. We’re having a barbecue. Nice and simple, informal. Steaks on the grill, my mom made a salad, my Aunt bought ice cream bars for dessert, then everyone can go to bed.”
“Okay.”
I follow her and Ben out of my room, into the hall, down the stairs, and when we head out into the heat, we walk toward my car, where I set Lyss on her feet and open the door. Evie and Ben split off and meander toward the house at the top of the block.
Thirty feet away, Evie turns back. “See you in a bit?”
I’d rather go inside, shut the world out, and pretend it’s just me and my baby. But I don’t get that choice. Not tonight, at least. I doubt we’ll eat with the Kincaids often, but tonight, the night they’ve been expecting me, and Evie’s mom made a salad? We have to come back out.
I nod. “Give us twenty minutes.”
Instead of acknowledging with words, Evie flashes a peace symbol with her fingers, and turns around to throw herself onto Ben’s back so he has to carry her.
“Alright, baby.” I turn back to the car. “Let’s take a couple bags in, just enough to get our fresh clothes and stuff. Then we have to shower and go out for a bit.”
I pull the red and blue bag out and study my girl. “Are you sleepy?”
“No. Do you think they have a pool?” She digs her arms into the bag and tugs out Nemo floaties for her arms. “Maybe I can practice.”
I shake my head and lug heavy suitcases out of the car. “I’m not sure. Let’s get inside and get cleaned up.”
Miles
Meet the Fockers
Twenty minutes after Evie and Ben leave us to settle in, Lyss and I step onto the front porch of the house that we’ll be calling home, at least for the next little while.
It’s not a permanent setup; more of a halfway stop, somewhere to get our bearings, make some decisions about what’s next for us. I signed a contract to fight with the Rollers. They’ll pay me a salary a little higher than what I was earning back in our old town, but with less hours, and a house thrown in. Rent-free, location location location, and a hand-delivered invitation to dinner on the first night.
With fresh jeans, a black shirt, and my hair combed, when it so rarely is, I take Lyss’ hand in mine, and help her down the steep steps at the front of the house. She’s wearing a skirt – a tutu, she calls it, though it’s not actually. Her sandals light up when she stomps, and her shirt is a scratch and sniff.
Seriously. Sniff my baby’s belly, and you get a whiff of cherries.
We combed Lyss’ hair too, tied it up with a pretty, and now she clutches a stuffed bear in her free arm, smooshes him against her body, and works hard not to drag his long legs on the ground.
“Daddy?”
“It’s gonna be okay.” I look down and smile for her. “I’m nervous, but I’m not scared.” And that’s a distinction she needs to know. “We’re gonna have something to eat, say hello to our new friends, then we can go home.”
“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?” She peeks up from beneath dark lashes. “Please?”
“You don’t wanna sleep in your own bed? It’s so pretty, and they got you ballerina sheets.”
She shakes her head and squeezes my hand as tight as she can manage. “Maybe tomorrow.”
I nod and pull her in closer so her arm wraps around my thigh, and her cheek rests against my hip. “You can sleep with me, baby. It’s cool. We’ll sleep in, maybe make something yummy for breakfast, then we’ll start thinking about everything else.”
We step off the curb and onto the private street. Cars are parked in every driveway, but no one is driving.
“You know who else might be here?” I wait for her eyes. “Do you remember the dancer? Lucy?”
“She did the dance at Christmas?”
I nod.
“On the stage,” she adds. “She didn’t wear a tutu.”
“Yeah, her. And no, she didn’t wear a tutu.”
“I wonder why she didn’t,” Lyss ponders in that serious way six-year-olds can. “Do you think it was in the wash?”
I snort and take her hand as we move up the steps. “I’m not sure. Maybe you could ask her. She seemed nice, huh? I bet she’d answer, if you use your manners.”
“Maybe…”
She lets her word fade off as the front door opens to reveal Bobby Kincaid in all of his massive fucking glory. He’s not twenty anymore, and maybe his titles are a couple decades old, but he’s still six-and-a-half feet of mountainous fucking muscle. He wears his hair a little on the longer side, about as long as mine so it curls against our ears when sweaty, and flashes a grin below deep, dark brown eyes.
He should be terrifying, but he looks at Lyss like she hung the moon and the stars. Just like every grown man that ever meets my daughter, he turns to putty in her hands as he ignores my existence, crouches down, and waits for her acknowledgment.
“Hi, Alyssa.” He extends a meaty hand, bigger than her whole head, and holds it in the space between them as he smiles. “I’m so happy to see you again, beautiful.”
Lyss’ eyes snap to mine. Fear. Uncertainty. Then they go back to him. “Hello, Mr. Kincaid.”
“You’ve come for dinner?” He works on minimizing his size, folds in a little to become less scary. “I’m so glad that you’re here.” And yet, his hand remains extended. “I hope you’ll enjoy visiting with us.”
“Do you…” She peeks at me, then back to Bobby. “Do you have a pool?”
“Lyss!”
Bobby’s laughter is a deep rumble that makes his chest bounce. “We actually do. You’re welcome to it any time, but only if your dad is with you. Swimming alone is a little dangerous, so as long as you have a buddy, then you’re welcome in any time you like. You don’t even have to ask.” He points to the left. “There’s a gate over there. Just let yourself into my yard. There’s a safety gate on the pool that only grownups can open, so get yourself a grownup, and it’s all yours.”
“Okay.” She releases my hand and hesitantly takes his. “I have floaties in the other house.” She points over her shoulder. “Did you know we’re gonna live there for a little while?”
Bobby grins and nods his head. “I did know. That’s exciting, huh? You’ll be super close. And did you know that Jack,” he points to the house across from ours, “Jack has a little boy, he’s eight. That’s nearly your age, huh?”
Lyss’ attitude turns more and more excited as he speaks. “I’m gonna be seven at my ne
xt birthday.”
“Right! Well, Charlie is eight, and he’s pretty cool. He’ll go to your same school, and I mean, that’s pretty cool, huh? You’ll have a friend before you even start.”
“I don’t…” Lyss releases his hand and tucks herself into my side. “I don’t know him yet. I didn’t meet him.”
Groaning as he pushes to his feet, Bobby grins for her. “You will in a minute. I promise.”
“He’s inside?” She leans to the right and tries to peek past him. “The friends are in there?”
“Uh huh. We’re all gonna have dinner together, so once we’re done eating, you’ll have a new friend. Cool, right?”
Lyss nods, though her eyes are for the door and not the fighter.
“Iowa.” He finally looks to me and extends a hand. “I’m glad you made it.”
I take his hand and shake. “Ya know, nobody calls me Iowa. That’s…” I chuckle. “Weird.”
“We call you Iowa,” he laughs. “Smalls started it, so now it’s kinda stuck. It’s best if you just accept it. We’re gonna use it whether you like it or not.”
Scowling, Lyss looks up and plants a hand on her hip. “That’s not very nice. His name is Daddy.”
Bobby chokes on a laugh and looks to me. “You want me to call you ‘Daddy’? Is that the relationship you’re looking for, here?”
I push away the crazy images that flash through my mind and shake my head. “Iowa will work just fine.” I look to Lyss. “He’s not being mean, baby. He’s just playing.”
“Come on.” Bobby slaps a hand to my shoulder and pulls us toward the door. “It’s hot as hell out here. Let’s go in and cool off.”
“We’re not barbecuing outside?” I hold onto Lyss’ hand and follow him through the door. “Isn’t that the point of a cookout?”
“We’ll cook out there, but then we’re bringing it all inside before we melt. I didn’t work as hard as I did all my life so I’d have to die in the heat. Charlie!” Bobby grabs a boy by the scruff of his shirt as he tries to dash past, and yanks him off his feet before he can escape. The kid may be eight, but he’s sure as shit Jack ‘The Jackhammer’ Reilly’s kid. He’s broad, muscled, and has jet black hair hanging into his eyes, just the way his dad’s promotional photos used to show.