Small Town King: A Single Dad Romance (Carlisle Cellars Book 3)

by Fabiola Francisco

  After breakfast, I bathe the girls and wash off all the batter from their hair before jumping in the shower and getting ready. The girls are in Charlie’s room playing with dolls when I stroll in.

  “Mommy, can I go to the store?” Charlie says with a squeaky voice as if she wasn’t a little girl.

  I freeze by the door when I hear what she’s saying.

  “Yes…” Chloe responds, moving the doll as if she were walking. “Let’s go.” They pretend the mom and baby are holding hands, walking together.

  I cover my mouth with my hands, a sad smile taking over. Chloe doesn’t remember her mom, and Charlie has vague memories since she was just four when Ella passed.

  I interrupt their playtime by clearing my throat. “Are you girls ready?” They both look at me with wide eyes as if I caught them doing something bad. When they drop the dolls, I furrow my eyebrows.

  “What’s goin’ on?” I walk into the room, sitting on the floor with them.

  “Nothing,” they say way too quickly.

  “Girls… You can talk to me about anything.” Silence. “Were you playing Mommy and Baby?” They nod. “That’s not bad…”

  Chloe looks at Charlie, who’s staring at the hardwood floor, tracing the grain design.

  “Ask him,” Chloe whispers, leaning into her.

  Charlie shakes her head.

  “Yes,” Chloe hisses.

  “Ask me what? Girls, you can ask me anything you want.” Charlie finally looks up at me with doe-eyes before glancing at her sister, who nods encouragingly.

  Unsure eyes meet mine, and Charlie takes a deep breath. “Are you also gonna get married?”

  My eyes widen, and I lean back as if her question sucker-punched me.

  “What?” My eyebrows are twisted together as I try to understand where this question came from.

  “Like Aunt Madison and Uncle Miles. They’re both gonna get married,” Charlie explains.

  I shake my head, blowing out a breath.

  “No, sweetie. Uncle Miles and Aunt Madison are getting married because they met someone and fell in love. Getting married is something that takes a lot of time to happen. You have to make sure you’re in love with someone and want to live with them.” I’m trying my best to explain this without digging myself into a hole.

  “You loved Mommy.”

  “Very much,” I nod at Charlie.

  “She’s our angel,” Chloe says, scooting closer to me, and I warp my arm around her with Charlie in front of me. My throat clogs with emotion. All I can do is nod.

  “Yeah, she’s always watching us,” Charlie chimes in, repeating the things I’ve always told them.

  “She is…” I take a deep breath. “And she loves you very much and is proud of the beautiful, smart, and funny girls you are.” I somehow make it through that without choking up.

  “Yeah,” Chloe sighs.

  This morning has been a mix of highs and lows. I hug them to me.

  “Are you okay? Any other questions?” They shake their heads. “Let’s go to Aunt Maddy’s house then.”

  They race to get up, shoving their feet in shoes, while I take my time standing up, staring up through the roof and sky to somewhere in the heavens as if that would give me one last glimpse of Ella.

  The girls each grab my hands, and I look down at them. I stifle a laugh when I see Chloe’s shoes are on backward and bend to fix them.

  “There, now we’re ready to go.”

  We get to Madison and Tate’s house, and the girls race to the door, knocking loudly, excited to see them.

  The door swings open, and Tate smiles down at them. He bends and chuckles when they hug him.

  “I hear two beautiful girls want to talk to the best firefighter in the whole world,” he says, picking them up.

  “Yesssss!” They squeal through guffaws. They hold on to his neck for dear life, and I laugh.

  “Hey,” Tate nods his head since he’s carrying the girls with both arms.

  “Hey, thanks for this.” I close the door behind me, and the girls are squirming out of Tate’s arms and running toward Madison, almost toppling her over.

  “Guess I’m second best,” Tate says with a shrug.

  I slap his shoulder. “You’re their favorite firefighter,” I say to console him.

  “Yeah, yeah. Truth is, Miles will always be their favorite uncle, so I better get used to second best.”

  “Yeah, sorry.” I laugh.

  “Nah, he’s blood and deserves that title. I heard about the treasure hunt. Madison is jealous as hell. Good luck with her today.” I grimace at his warning.

  “Hello, big brother,” Madison arches a brow and pinches her lips together.

  “Hello, little sister.” I hug her, but she shoves my chest.

  “How dare you not invite me to the pirate activities last Saturday?”

  “Why are you bringing this up now and not on Tuesday when you saw me?” I mirror her raised eyebrow.

  “Because I didn’t know about it. I heard someone mention Miles being dressed like a pirate, and then someone else commented that the girls told them about a treasure hunt and how adorable it was,” she mimics the women with annoyance.

  I lift my hands in surrender. “I didn’t know he was gonna do that. The girls wanted to see him, so I called, and he was free. When we arrived, he was dressed like a pirate.”

  “Please tell me you have pictures,” she smiles.

  “I think June does.”

  “I’m gonna need those.” And just like that, she’s over it and calling my girls over.

  “After you’re done with Uncle Tate, I’ll keep teaching you how to play the guitar.” They cheer, and she smiles over at me. “I’m gonna need to buy them each their own guitar.”

  “Yes!” Charlie bounces on her toes.

  When I tell Tate that Chloe was actually the one who wanted to talk to him, he nods with a smile.

  “Let’s sit outside.” He looks at me for reassurance, and I nod.

  “Aunt Maddy, can you teach me the guitar while they talk?” Charlie looks up at her.

  “Of course.”

  I sit on their couch as I watch Madison teach Charlie the different strings, and they practice a piece of music that she’s been teaching the girls since she moved back. I’m amazed at how well they remember the chords and what to do.

  Maybe I should put them in music lessons. Fueling their creativity will help with their emotions, too. I read that in an article about helping children heal from post-traumatic stress disorder.

  When Charlie gets bored and asks to watch TV, Madison sits next to me, looping her arm in mine.

  “They’re so big,” she sighs.

  “Tell me about it.”

  She turns to look at me. “I’m glad you’re taking more time with them.”

  I nod and switch topics. “You okay? Things are going well with the new label?” I

  “Yes. It’s so much better. They’re genuine, and I’ve gotten to know some of their other singers, mostly via video chat. I’m flying out in a couple weeks to work some things out in person.

  “I’m glad. I’m glad nothing happened to you, and you’re working with better people now.”

  “Yeah,” she sighs sadly.

  “Just because you and Miles have the weird twin thing going on doesn’t mean you aren’t my little sister as much as you are his. I’d kill anyone who hurt you.”

  She shakes her head, rolling her eyes. “He’s a few minutes older than me, so no need to treat me like a baby.”

  “You’re our sister, Madison. We’re gonna protect you.”

  “And I love you for it.” She leans her head on my shoulder. “But I didn’t want to stress you out or worry you. You’ve got enough to deal with.”

  “You can always come to me.” I want to make sure she knows I mean it. I’ve been in my own space these last couple of years, dealing—or not dealing—with my own pain. Shit, maybe I do need a therapist.

  “I will, I promise,
but things are good now.” She smiles at me, her dimples popping out.

  “It’s good to see you happy.” I return the smile.

  “A lot of that has to do with the man outside,” she comments candidly.

  “Yeah, but remember to be happy on your own, too.”

  “I am, but I’m even happier that I have Tate in my life again. I missed him,” she sighs.

  “I’m glad.” I rub a hand on her hair to tease her.

  “Hey!” She shoves me playfully.

  When I laugh, she smiles widely. “It’s good to see you happy, too, Brett.” She leans her head on my shoulder again.

  Her words dig deep inside, settling in my soul. Am I happy? I’m surviving. I have moments of happiness, but I haven’t been fully happy in a long time. Losing the person you love will do that to you. I wonder if I’ll ever overcome it, and then Charlie’s question earlier pauses my train of thought.

  “Charlie asked me today if I was going to get married, too, since you and Miles are both engaged.”

  Madison lifts her head slowly as her eyebrows crawl up her forehead.

  “What’d you tell her?” she whispers.

  “I think they’ve talked about it. Chloe prompted her to ask me, so it wasn’t an out-of-the-blue question. I told her that people get married when they’re in love. That led to talking about Ella, and I diverted the conversation.”

  “You know you could open up to someone again…when you’re ready,” she hastily adds before I can argue.

  “I don’t know, Maddy. Ella was it for me, you know?”

  She nods. “I get that, trust me. If anyone understands having to move on from the person you love, it’s me.” She looks out the French doors where Tate and Chloe are talking. “But Ella would want you to be happy and create memories with someone else.”

  I cringe at her words.

  “Don’t look at me like that. I mean it. Not in a cliché way, but she’d want more for you than being a sad Eeyore.”

  “A sad Eeyore?” I quirk a brow.

  “It’s a nicer way than saying depressed. We all know Eeyore is the depressed one in the Pooh clan.”

  I shake my head, but my lips twitch.

  “You know, a couple of weeks before she died, she brought up that if anything were to happen to her, she’d want me to keep living. I got so angry, I shut down and wouldn’t continue the conversation. It’s almost like a part of her knew she wouldn’t be with me until we were old and gray.” I blink my eyes rapidly.

  “I wouldn’t let her finish. Maybe if I had closure, but she woke up one day and then was gone. Poof.” I look at Charlie to make sure she’s entertained by the television show and not listening in on our conversation.

  “Brett,” Madison says sadly. She places her hand on my arm. “Ella would want you to be happy. Again, when you're ready. Maybe you need closure first.”

  I nod, not wanting to continue talking about this. I can’t right now. I’ve let more out than I have in a long time.

  “If you ever want to talk, you know I’m always available. No judgment.” She squeezes my arm.

  “Thanks.” I kiss the top of her head.

  All my thoughts swarm together as I sit back on the couch, creating an indecipherable mess. I didn’t give Ella the chance to tell me what she felt because I was adamant that we’d be together. I should’ve listened. Maybe there’d been a clue for me that could’ve prevented her accident. But even I know that fate is untouchable, and we’re all meant to live certain things. It’s supposed to make us stronger, but I don’t feel the strength from this. Maybe one day I will.

  Chapter 12

  Magnolia

  “Where would you live?” I ask Chloe after she mentioned living somewhere else.

  “In a different world. Not Earth, a different one where there’s no fire, and it can’t hurt nobody.”

  Not surprised by her response since she’s still overcoming her fear of fire, I choose the best route to respond. My goal is that she overcomes her fear and learns that fire is a helpful resource when it’s used safely.

  I lean forward with a smile. “Did you know that the sun is a ball of fire?” Her eyes widen in fear. “It’s sooooooo far away, it doesn’t hurt us, but it gives us warmth, so we don’t freeze and it illuminates the day, so it’s not always nighttime. It’s good for us. Fire on Earth is the same. Sometimes it’s good for us because it keeps us warm, helps us cook, and lights up places where there’s no electricity.”

  I keep my smile in place as I search her face. She’s got her bottom lip tucked between her teeth, and her eyebrows pulled down over her rounds eyes staring at me.

  “Our kitchen uses fire,” Charlie chimes in.

  “You see, it’s helpful. It can make lots of yummy foods.” I look between the girls.

  “Yeah, at first we were scared that it would burn our house, but Mrs. Colleen told us that it was safe. We’ve even made pancakes,” Charlie adds proudly.

  “You, too?” I ask Chloe. She nods quietly.

  “We need to learn how to be careful when we use it, and always, always have an adult with you. Sometimes accidents happen, like at the winery, but that’s not often. I can’t tell you why it happened to you, but I can promise to help you.”

  Chloe nods, twiddling the toy in her hand that’s more for comfort than actual play.

  “You’re both safe, which is what’s important. Your uncle is safe, too.”

  They both nod.

  “It’s time to go. Do you have any questions before we finish?” They shake their heads. “Okay, I’ll see you next week.”

  Before I open the door, Chloe wraps her arms around my legs and releases them just as quickly. Then, she wordlessly walks out of my office and races toward Brett.

  “Magnolia,” Brett calls out before I can walk back into my office.

  I lift my brows as he tells the girls to wait for him and makes his way back to me with his hands in his pockets.

  “I was wondering if I can make an appointment with you to discuss ways to improve Charlie and Chloe’s wellbeing at home.”

  “Of course.” I nod. “My next client canceled, so if you’d like to talk for a moment, I’m free.”

  “That’d be great. Thank you.” He steps inside, and I close the door, sitting on my chair and motioning for him to sit on the loveseat.

  “How were they today?” He starts off.

  “They’re doing well, Mr. Carlisle. I see a big change in their mood. They told me you’ve spent more time with them on the weekends. I think it’s great that you’ve been able to continue doing that.”

  He nods silently, and I wait for him to say something. When he doesn’t, I lift my brows as if prompting him.

  “Right, yeah…” His eyes scan my office. “They seem much happier because of it. I help run the family business, and my father’s retiring soon. Therefore, I’ll be taking over. It’s been a bit of an adjustment as well as recovering from the fire. However, my girls are more important. If there’s anything I can do that you recommend, I’ll be happy to hear it.” He sits back on the cushions, keeping his hands on his knees.

  “Of course. I believe that what you’re doing is already beneficial. Chloe’s much more open in therapy, where before, she was less trusting. Continue being there for them. Remember to have fun. Play is the best way for children to grow, heal, and expand their imagination. And talk to them. Have conversations, don’t be afraid to ask them questions.”

  “I do that,” he nods. “I’ve always been a believer of talking to them openly instead of pretending they aren’t smart enough or mature enough. Obviously within what’s appropriate,” he adds hastily. “My wife and I had always agreed on that.”

  I nod, offering a closed-mouth smile. “I think that’s great.”

  He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Anything else? Sometimes I feel like I’m failing them, not being strong enough. Ever since…” he trails. “Sorry, I’m not here for therapy,” he chuckles awkwardly.

&
nbsp; “It’s okay. If you do want to see someone, it wouldn’t make you any less of a person or appear weak. As for being strong enough… Strength is waking up each day, being there for your daughters, not closing off completely, following and working on your dreams. That’s strength. If you ask me, you’re much stronger than you think. Keep fostering love and support for Charlie and Chloe. They’ll get there.” I nod assuringly.

  “Thank you.” He slaps his thighs and stands.

  “You’re welcome. There’s a book you might be interested in. It’s great for parents who have children, especially those with trauma or emotional distress.” I reach for the book from my small shelf and hand it to him. “You can borrow it.”

  “No, that’s okay. I’ll buy it.”

  “Take it until it arrives. I think it will be helpful.”

  “Thank you again.” He offers a small smile, and it feels like a breakthrough moment.

  “Of course. Any questions, let me know.” I take in the tired lines around his eyes and his messy hair.

  Brett seems as if he carries a lot on his shoulders, and it’d do him good to shed some of that weight or at the very least share the responsibility with someone instead of doing it all himself. That’s something I can relate to, given my situation with my mom and wanting to be everything to her and my dad so they won’t have to worry.

  After work, I call my mom while I drive home to ask how her doctor’s appointment went today.

  “Hey, Mama,” I say when she answers.

  “Hi, sweetie, how are you?”

  “I’m good, and you? How was your appointment today?” I nervously chew on the inside of my lip. Her diabetes has been getting more complicated with age, and it seems like we get bad news each time she sees her doctor.

  “It was good.” I hear her words lingering as if she wants to say something else, but she doesn’t.

  “What did the doctor say?” I press on.

  My mom sighs. “I’m doing okay, sweetie. That’s all you need to worry about.”

  “Mama…”

  “I need an insulin pump,” she says, defeated.

  “What? How come? Isn’t the medication working? You already use the insulin injections.”