by Shey Stahl
Morgan reaches down and picks up Camdyn and then Sev. “Did you guys see it’s snowing?” I notice a coating of white flakes in his hair. I’d been so into making dinner with the girls I hadn’t noticed it started snowing. The weather reports were saying blizzardlike conditions for the rest of the night and into tomorrow afternoon.
“Can we play in it?” Camdyn asks, wiggling out of Morgan’s arms and to the large windows overlooking the pasture behind our house. She stands on her tippy-toes to peer out the glass covered in a thin layer of frost from the wind. “Where’s Lulu? Is she warm?”
Lulu is Camdyn’s grullo quarter horse. Yep. My five-year-old has her own horse. But when your grandpa has only two grandkids and raises horses, you’re bound to score on that level. They might not be attending private schools or have a personal nanny, but they have a pretty damn good ranch life and every man here wrapped around their fingers.
“She’s in the barn. I made sure to put a blanket on her, extra hay and,” he pauses, burying his face into Sevyn’s neck as she cackles with laughter. “Marshmallows.”
Smiling, I wipe my hands on a towel and watch my brother with my girls. I learned before I was old enough for a shot of whiskey that being a father and a dad hold entirely two different meanings. Being a dad requires you to be present, in the moment, and interacting with your kids.
Fathers yell out orders and demand respect.
Dads show them how to respect others, including them.
I can’t say I’m doing that great of a job with the girls by myself, but I’m trying. And that starts with our weekly spaghetti nights. Morgan joined not long after we started doing them because he loves spaghetti. It’s nice to spend some time with him where we’re not working.
“Did you cut the ice in the pond?” Morgan asks, removing his gloves and placing them near the fire I have going.
I nod. “Yeah, almost fell in too.”
He laughs, smiling at me. “Nothing like a polar bear plunge in a blizzard.”
“No kidding.” Morgan and I jump in the pond every New Year’s Day buck-ass naked, because we’re crazy. They say it means good luck, but I haven’t had much good luck in years, so it might be a crock of shit.
Peeking over my shoulder out the kitchen window, I notice the snow accumulating on the covered porch.
“Nut sac,” Sev mumbles under her breath, climbing onto a chair.
I turn and stare at her. Told you she was burning that word into her brain earlier today. I see her on a chair she’s pushed up against the stove, spoon in hand, ready to dip it into the sauce. The spoon she had on the ground earlier. “What are you doing?”
Her mischievous blue eyes focus on mine. “I’m stirrin’ the witch’s stew.”
I smirk. “Can I help you?”
Determination digs deep, her lips in a flat line. “No. I do it.”
“You’re getting it everywhere. And I don’t know if I want you stirring it. You ate veggie straws with your feet earlier.”
Beside us, Camdyn looks like she’s going to throw up. “And you let her?”
I glance at Camdyn. “Have you not met your sister?”
Morgan kicks his boots off near the door and makes his way into the kitchen area, sitting at the kitchen island. He sighs, the last few days written on his face.
Sev gets down from the chair she pushed next to the stove, carries the spoon with spaghetti sauce on it with her over to Morgan. “Are you tired from all your sleeping?”
He peers down at her. “I don’t get much sleep, sweetheart.”
And then she pats his shoulder with one hand, licking the spoon in the process. “But you sleepin’ with Lil.”
Morgan coughs and then clears his throat, his murderous eyes shifting to mine. “What?”
“Okay.” I take the loaf of bread from the counter and toss it in the oven. “Why don’t you two get cleaned up for supper?”
Thankfully they take off toward the bathroom to fight over who washes their hands first.
Morgan scowls, running his hand over his thick, dark beard, as if he can’t believe what he heard. With his elbows resting on the island, he leans in, eyeing me carefully. “What the fuck? You told them?”
Listen, I’m afraid of Morgan. He can kick my ass for sure, but I’m not about to tell him that, or anyone else. If you tell anyone, I’m going to deny I ever told you. So, I shrug and play it cool. “No, but Sev was in the room when Lillian tried to bring me into your drama.”
He leans back in the chair, sighing. “Jesus.”
“Yeah. He’s not going to help you out of this one. That’s on you.” I pull the very hot loaf of bread out of the oven and set it on the cutting board. “Now cut this.”
He does as I ask, and I tend to the boiling-over noodles. I busy myself making the sauce for the next few minutes while Morgan gets plates set out.
“What’s on you?” he asks Sev, who comes walking into the kitchen with no shirt on and just her underwear.
“Why are you all shiny? What’s on you?”
She stares at her hands. “I don’t know.”
That’s her answer for everything. Reaching out, I touch the goo on her and immediately know what she’s done. “Where’s the bottle?” I groan. Do you know how many times I’ve called poison control on this kid? I’m surprised CPS hasn’t knocked on my door yet.
A few minutes later, Sev returns with the Vaseline. I hold it up; the goo covering it is now on me. “Why did you put this on you?”
She shrugs. “I want to be wiggly.”
Wiggly? I stare at her, then Camdyn, who seems just as confused. Even Morgan doesn’t know what the fuck’s up. He takes another shot of whiskey, as if to say he can’t be sober for this. Believe me, I don’t want to be either.
But then I think about what she said. Wiggly. “What does that mean?” I regret asking this before the words finish leaving my mouth because she proceeds to flop herself onto the floor and slide across the wood floors like they’re a slip and slide.
Morgan laughs, eating a slice of bread like this is the funniest shit he’s ever seen. “Why you got so much Vaseline in the house?”
“Shut up.” I don’t even remember why I have it. Are you laughing? You are because you know I’m lying, but whatever.
For the next ten minutes, I clean off Sev while Camdyn drills Morgan about the condition of her horse, and Sev stands and watches me. Being the horse lover she is, Camdyn is terrified her horse is going to freeze to death in the storm. “Horses aren’t stupid, honey. They’re not gonna go swimming in the pond tonight.”
“I beg to differ,” I point out, remembering how stubborn every horse I’ve ever been on has been.
“Unless it’s your dad on the horse, then they get dumb.” He brings his face closer to Camdyn and grins. “He sucks the smarts right outta ’em.”
“My skin is angry,” Sev tells me, wiggling to get away as I toss the bottle of Vaseline at Morgan. “Stop hurting it.”
“Stop getting into things you shouldn’t.” I toss a handful of paper towels with goo on them in the trash can. “Now get up there and eat your supper.”
Wearing one of my T-shirts as a dress and with greasy hair, she crawls up beside Morgan and Camdyn. “Why is spedie red?”
“It’s the sauce. Just eat it.”
She gives me the death stare for telling her what to do. Is she trying to cast a spell on me? Are witches real? Is my kid one? All things that keep me up at night.
Camdyn stares at Sev’s greasy hair. “You look like Johnny Depp.”
Sev rolls her eyes. “I don’t even know him.” Picking up her fork, she twirls it like Morgan’s doing. “I don’t likes red sauce. I says already I not like it.”
“Just eat it.” I groan and then look at Camdyn as I dish meatballs on my plate. “How do you know who Johnny Depp is?”
Her eyes move to Morgan and then away to her spaghetti. “I don’t know.”
“You let them watch Black Mass, didn’t you?” I snort, wat
ching Morgan choke on the food he just took a bite of.
Camdyn sits up straighter in her chair, her body rigid and straight. “I closed my eyes at the scary parts,” she tells me, as if this should be okay.
“And the naughty parts.” Morgan smiles. He pushes his plate away. “Is it time for hide and seek yet?”
“Yes!” Camdyn jumps down. “I live for this.”
She really does. She’s Morgan’s hide and seek partner, and I’m stuck with the crazy little one. Ten minutes later, I’m hiding behind the couch with Sev. She won’t shut up.
“You’re the worst hide and seek partner.”
“I’m three,” she points out. And then grins. “I tooted.”
Covering my nose almost immediately, I scoot away from her. “What did you eat?”
She gets right in my face, squeezes my cheeks, and scrunches up her nose. “Nut sacs.”
“I found you!” Camdyn yells, popping her head over the side of the couch. Immediately, she smells the tainted air. “Gross, Sev!”
Let’s be real here. Sev stinks up this house more than anyone. And to think, these meatballs are my family.
“Did you tell her?”
I know earlier I said I don’t want to be involved in his drama, but this is Morgan we’re talking about, and when Tara left me, he was there every day, helping me take care of my girls. I rely heavily on him, my dad, and Lara Lynn. Without them, there’s no way I would have made it this far two kids, and a full-time job.
“I was going to.” Morgan lifts the beer bottle to his lips, his eyes on the snow mercilessly falling outside. “But her suitcase by the door said enough.”
As I sit there with my brother, drinking beer by the fire, I’m beginning to wonder if the Grady boys are cursed when it comes to women. I stare at the snow as Morgan seems to chew on the words he wants to say. Leaning forward, he rests his elbows on his knees. Twisting his head, he glances over at me. “I love her. I don’t want her to leave, but what am I going to say? It’s the same argument every day.”
I raise an eyebrow, the firelight on his face adding to the haunting thoughts he’s having. “Because you work too much?”
“That.” He sighs, his shoulders rolled forward. “I don’t spend enough time with her. She hates being out here alone… I can’t give her kids.”
“She knew that going into it though, didn’t she?”
“She did, but it doesn’t stop her from wanting them.”
I know Morgan worried about Carly eventually wanting a baby. A baby he couldn’t give. “True. You can have one of mine,” I tease, peeling the label on my beer.
“I vote Sev,” Camdyn says, sitting down beside us.
I jump at the sound of her voice. “Where did you come from? Are you secretly training to become a Navy SEAL?”
Morgan smiles, standing up to retrieve a new beer. The second he’s up, Camdyn steals his seat. “What’s a Navy SEAL?”
“Someone who sneaks around in the dark.” I know that’s not what they are, but I also don’t want to explain anything to a five-year-old at two in the morning.
“Can I watch a movie?”
“No. It’s the middle of the night.”
“Then why are you awake?”
I lift the beer in my hand, winking at her. “I’m drinking beer.”
With determination, she tries again, hoping for a different answer. “Can I watch a movie?”
“Nope. You already watched one.”
“Why?”
“This is my time. Alone.”
She stares at me as if the concept of me wanting alone time is a foreign word to her. It is. She spends every single day with me. They have no concept of me wanting adult time. “You’re not alone. Uncle Morgan’s here.”
“And you need to go back to bed.”
She groans, flopping herself onto the floor. “Fine.” Before she runs into her room, she says something that hits me so hard. Like a bullet to the chest. “Tanner told me my mommy didn’t want me.”
I’m going to kill this Tanner boy.
And then an even harder question comes before I can answer her. “Is she ever coming back?”
For a while, I thought maybe she might, but then I realized that Amarillo and this life didn’t have anything to offer Tara. “No, probably not.” Camdyn knows more than Sev does about their mother. She knows she left, but has never seen a picture of her, and I’m not even sure she remembers her.
Morgan returns to the couch and hands me a beer, remaining quiet.
Camdyn draws in a heavy breath, too much worry on her face as she eyes the snow and then me. “Do daddies leave too?”
I lean forward and grab her into my arms and hold her close to my chest. “Not this one.”
There’s a flash of a memory. The one where Tara was holding Sev moments after her birth and crying for reasons I couldn’t understand. Maybe us Grady boys are cursed.
Women always seem to leave us.
Even navigation is drawing a blank.
KACY
When I was five years old, I used to climb up to the top of our roof from my bedroom window and then jump into our pool. I had absolutely no fear. I didn’t have a concept of it back then. I still don’t because hello, road trip on my own. So many things could go wrong, but I cared about none of it when I left.
I also remember thinking my dad was ten feet tall and could do nothing wrong. I believed, wholeheartedly, that he hung the moon and stars. His gentle hands, the soft whisper of an “I love you,” and he’d sing to me just before I fell asleep. He meant the world to me. Still does, despite his faults.
Dads are supposed to protect you from harm, and while he did, he was too caught up in his life to notice his wife was sleeping with my boyfriend.
You want to know what else he was too busy to do?
Teach me to drive in snow. And read a map because guess who doesn’t have service?
Me.
And guess what it’s doing somewhere outside Amarillo?
Snowing. I’m not even talking about a few flakes in the sky. This is a full-blown whiteout. I’ve been shaken up and put inside a real-life snow globe. All I see are flakes flying around in all different directions, like sugar being thrown at my windshield. And to top it off, the wind is insane and rocking my car from side to side, making staying on the road nearly impossible.
The damn map makes absolutely no sense to me. There’s lines and highways, but the road I’m on, it’s not on the goddamn thing.
“Well, I don’t know if I ever thought this through. I’m a little bit insane, and I think I’m going crazy. And I don’t know if I’ve been this lost!” I sing, and yes, I’m rewording “Push” to fit my current situation. I’m that scared. Have you ever been lost on a ranch road in the middle of nowhere? Well, then you don’t get to judge me.
Fuck. Why did I take that detour to pee? And why had I never learned to read a damn map? They should really teach that in school.
Wait… they do, don’t they?
Shit. Damn it.
And while I’m on this rant, why don’t they teach people in California to drive in the snow? We need to know these things. Just in case someday we decide we’re going to abandon our lives in Cali-hell-ia.
You know when you’re lost and you turn down the music? It’s as if your head needs to the quiet to calculate the level of fucked you’re about to be. I pick up the map once more and try to read it. There has to be a connecting highway around here somewhere. Peeling my eyes away from the snow, I grab it and hold it close to my face. That’s when I see what looks to be something standing in the road. Or I’m hallucinating. I have been driving for seventeen hours. I could be by this point.
Squinting at the road, I try to see through the white blindness and grip my hands a little tighter on my heated steering wheel. “What are you?” I ask to no one, hoping whatever it is tells me.
I think I hit the brakes. No, I’m sure I hit the brakes, but if you’ve ever tried to stop on ice, which I never ha
ve, you can’t. My Mercedes traction control starts beeping, or something is beeping at me, and I’m skidding and sliding right into whatever it is standing in the middle of the road.
I snap my eyes shut, bracing for the impact, and let God have the wheel because there’s no possible way I’m going to maneuver out of this spin. I flip my car around twice in the middle of the road and then hit the big dog, horse, deer, I have no clue what, but head-on.
It’s then, through a shriek of screams that leave my mouth and my car sailing through the air, through a fence, and into the side of a building that I realize the animal, now through my windshield, has antlers.
“Why didn’t you move?” I scream at him, just as I hit the building and black out.
Probably should have thought this one through
BARRON
“Lil said you sent the papers back.”
“Yep.” I use my keys to open the beer bottle in my hand. “And I’m going to keep sending them back.” I glance over at him. He’s staring at the crackling fire as he loads another log. “Did you sign the papers Carly gave you? Wait, is she still at the house?”
“I didn’t sign them yet. I’m gonna have Kev look over them first. Make sure she’s not fucking me over, but yeah, she’s still at the house. Didn’t want her driving in this storm.”
“Makes sense. Man, I didn’t even know you guys were having problems.”
“I don’t think I did either. Fuck, I did, but still. I didn’t think it was that bad.”
I stare at my hand holding the beer and the spot on my left hand that used to have a ring. A promise I couldn’t keep. “It’s never as bad as it seems.” I knew when things went from bad to worse. It happened in the weeks following Sev’s birth when Tara couldn’t be bothered with holding her newborn daughter. We didn’t plan Camdyn, and in no way did we think Tara would get pregnant again nine months later. Sure, we knew it was a possibility, but I’d say it took any chance of us making it and destroyed it. Truth is, I’m not sure Tara ever wanted kids. And seeing how she hasn’t seen them in three years, I’d say my theory was right.