Built

by Jay Crownover

  Obviously I couldn’t see my own butt, so I stopped in front of the stainless-steel refrigerator and turned around to see what had him in hysterics. On each back pocket was a perfect handprint, obviously left over from my first attempt at the pancakes. I rolled my eyes and shook my head at my own level of disaster.

  “I did make a big mess. I seem to do that a lot.” I helped Hyde climb up into one of the stools that sat at the island. I found a clean bowl and spoon and put both in front of him while I measured out more mix and dug the milk back out of the fridge.

  “Zeb says making a mess is okay as long as you also clean it up.” It sounded like Zeb had taken to fatherhood like a duck to water.

  “Your dad is full of good advice.”

  A little furrow worked between his tiny dark eyebrows as I added the liquid to the mix in the bowl and told him to go ahead and stir. I thought he was concentrating on the task at hand but when he spoke he surprised me.

  “Everyone calls him my dad.”

  I propped my elbows on the countertop and put my chin in my hand. “He is your dad. I’m not sure what else we would call him.”

  He looked up at me and sucked his bottom lip in and then let it go with a pop. “He was my friend before he was my dad.”

  “You’re right. He was and he’s still your friend even though he is also your dad.”

  “Sometimes I want to call him Dad.”

  I sucked in a breath through my teeth. I wasn’t sure I was the person he should be having this conversation with. “Try and get as many of the lumps out as you can.” I pointed to one big blob of batter in the bowl and walked over so that I could lean on the counter next to him. “Have you mentioned to Zeb that you might want to call him Dad?”

  He shook his head and I heard his feet thumping under the counter as he kicked them up and down.

  “No. What if he doesn’t like it?”

  I reached out and put a finger under his chin and turned his face up so that he was looking at me. “Hyde, do you think Zeb is honest with you?”

  The little boy considered me thoughtfully for a second and I tried not to cringe as he let go of the spoon and it slipped all the way into the bowl and was sucked up by the gooey batter.

  “Yeah. Zeb doesn’t lie.”

  “So if you tell him that you want to call him Dad, then you know he’ll tell you how he really feels about it. I bet you a hundred bucks it makes him really happy and that he might even cry.” It was a hedged bet. I knew I was going to win the bet and lose the money because there was no way that Zeb wouldn’t at least tear up when Hyde asked that question. A hundred dollars would buy the little man a lot of pizza and make the emotional moment between father and son even more special.

  I wiggled my eyebrows up and down, which made Hyde laugh. “Zeb won’t cry.” He sounded so sure of the fact. The adorable little boy had no clue just how much of an effect he had on his big, bearded father.

  I stuck out a hand. “A hundred bucks says he does.”

  Hyde put his hand in mine and screwed up his face in concentration. “I don’t have a hundred bucks, though. I only have ten quarters.”

  Could the kid be any more precious? The answer to that was a resounding “hell no.” “You don’t have to give me your quarters. If you win and Zeb doesn’t cry when you ask him, all you have to give me is your best hug. Deal?”

  He shook our joined hands vigorously and grinned at me. “Deal.”

  I tugged him closer, so that our noses were almost touching, and mock-whispered, “Do you want to know a secret?”

  His evergreen eyes popped wide and he nodded so vigorously that for a second I thought he was going to slide off the stool. I put my lips on his baby-soft cheek and gave him a little peck.

  “It doesn’t matter to your dad what you call him . . . Daddy, Zeb, Zebulon, Old Man River, Mr. Giant, Captain Beardo, Paul Bunyan . . . all he cares about is that you’re here to call him anything. He simply wants you, Hyde. No matter what, I want you to remember that, okay?”

  He gave a jerky little nod and I pulled away and took the bowl with me over to the stove so that I could try again to make pancakes once I found another spoon. There was no way I was going fishing for the one that was at the bottom of the bowl. I would end up with batter in even more places than I already had it.

  I had everything set up and was intently focused on my task when Hyde’s voice drifted to me from across the room.

  “How come you only have one red wall?” He had climbed off the stool and was standing in front of the poppy-colored wall, studying it with his head tilted a little to the side.

  “Uh, your dad actually painted it for me. I have a friend who lives with me and he asked her to pick out a color to cheer her up. That was the color she chose.”

  “I like it. It’s bright.”

  “I like it, too, and when the pancakes are done and hopefully not burned this time around, we can go wake Poppy up and you can tell her you like it. She’ll be thrilled.”

  “Are you gonna have my dad paint more?”

  I felt my spine go stiff at the stove as the butter melted and sizzled on the griddle. I wondered if he even realized that he had referred to Zeb as his dad. “No. I wasn’t going to have him paint any more. Just that one wall.”

  He made his way over to me and I cautioned him to keep his hands clear of the top of the stove.

  “Do you like it like that?”

  I looked down at him. “Like what?”

  “Everything so boring. The red wall is better.”

  I bit the inside of my lip and turned my head to look at it. “You’re right. It is better.”

  And no, I didn’t like the rest of the house being plain and boring. It was supposed to be soothing and comforting; instead I felt like the entire inside lacked personality and that every single neutral-toned wall mocked me as I walked by it. I sighed and pulled the pan off the heat.

  “Let’s go get Poppy and dive into our masterpiece, shall we?”

  He followed me without argument.

  Luckily Poppy was already up and in the living room when we went to fetch her. I should’ve known she wouldn’t be able to sleep through the doorbell going off. Hyde took an immediate liking to her, and the three of us spent the rest of the morning eating pancakes, coloring on the back of computer paper, and playing band with overturned pots and pans. Hyde was quite the drummer, and I was surprised at how dedicated Poppy was to her role as lead air guitarist. I, by default, ended up as lead singer, which sucked for them since the only songs I knew the lyrics to were eighties heavy metal. After the second round of “Pour Some Sugar on Me,” Poppy threw in the towel and claimed she needed a nap. Hyde also looked a little heavy-eyed, so I set him up on the couch with Nickelodeon on the TV. He was out before I could turn around and cover him up with a blanket.

  I felt like I should run into my office and grab my computer so I could get through the work that was waiting for me, but all I could do was stand there like I was glued to the spot and stare down at the precious little boy. He was so sweet, so resilient, considering everything he had been through. I had no idea how he had it in him to be so trusting and so open to love, but I was unendingly thankful that he was. I could learn so much from him.

  I jerked when Poppy put her hand on my elbow and inclined her head toward my office. I followed her as quietly as I could so we wouldn’t wake Hyde, and sniffed a little when I realized that I had tears in my eyes that were threatening to spill over. All these feelings were so much and they were starting to leak out of me regularly now.

  “I thought you were taking a nap.”

  “I was going to, but then I started thinking about something and I wanted to talk to you about it before I lost my nerve.” She twisted her hands together and started to pace back and forth in front of me. She fluttered around like a little golden bird and it made me anxious.

  “You know you can talk to me about anything, Poppy.”

  She audibly gulped. “I do . . . well, anythin
g about me, but this is about you, Sayer, and it’s hard for me to say, after all the wonderful things you’ve done for me.”

  She succeeded in catching me off guard. “Uh, okay, I’m listening.”

  She took a deep breath and was obviously rallying her nerve before she blurted out, “You would be a really great mom.”

  I blinked in shock because that wasn’t what I was expecting. “Excuse me?”

  She moved shaky hands to push her hair behind her ears and I saw her turn pink. “I know you struggle with the way your mom died and feel like she abandoned you, but, Sayer . . .” She reached out and put a hand on my arm. “You would never and could never do that to anyone. I watched you with Hyde all morning, and I can see how much you love him.”

  I put my hand over hers and gave it a pat. “He’s just a little boy, Poppy. It’s impossible not to care for him.”

  Her amber eyes sharpened as she narrowed them at me. “Really? Because if that was true, it would be his mother cooking him pancakes for breakfast and not you.”

  I opened my mouth to argue and then let it fall back closed because she did have a point.

  “It’s not just that. When you took me in without question because I couldn’t handle being around men, even the man I trust most in the whole world, I thought you were my guardian angel. I wouldn’t have survived without you, Sayer.”

  “No.” I automatically denied my role in her ongoing recovery. “You’re a fighter, Poppy.”

  She snorted delicately and lifted her caramel-colored eyebrows. “Am I? Because you threw me the life preserver months ago and all I’ve been doing is floating and hoping I don’t drown. I haven’t been swimming at all, Sayer, but you have loved me, protected me, sheltered me, and fought for me when I wouldn’t fight for myself. You did everything for me your own mother couldn’t do for you.”

  I jolted and jerked back from her touch as she stared at me solemnly. “Your father tried to convince you that you weren’t good enough, that you weren’t enough, but you are a better mother to that boy and to me than our own were. You care more for us than the people whose only job in the world it was to love us and keep us safe. So you need to start swimming, too, Sayer. After everything the past has tried to bury us under, we owe it to ourselves to be brave, to do more than float.”

  My mouth opened and closed like a fish. The tears that had been brewing while I watched Hyde with my heart in my throat started to fall.

  “I . . . where . . . what brought this on, Poppy?”

  She had shiny eyes as well but that brittle shell that she had been encased in since she first came to live with me was splintering and a new, vibrant creature was starting to emerge.

  “Partly from watching you with Hyde today and partly from being around all those happy couples at the party yesterday. I miss my life. I miss my sister. I miss being able to hug Rowdy without having a panic attack. I want to be around for those babies and weddings. I want to be a part of my family again, so that means I need to learn how to be alone and be okay with it. I need to take control so that at some point in my life I can willingly give it up to the right person.” She pointed a finger at me and wiggled it in a circle. “And you, you need to learn how to not be alone. You need to take the risk on that boy and on his daddy. You love so much more than your mother, and you have to know that you have so much more to offer this world than the person your father tried to mold you into. Let the way those boys love you and the way you love them be what defines you, Sayer. Be that woman, not the one your dad wanted you to be.”

  “Uh . . .” I wasn’t sure what to say to her, but when she wrapped her arms around me and gave me the first real hug she had ever offered up since moving in, I couldn’t do anything else but hug her back as we silently cried together. We did deserve to be brave, and we had survived so much. The marks that abuse had left on her were more visible and tangible than the marks a totally different kind of abuse had left on me. Both ran deep. Both hindered the way we lived and loved, but if she could overcome her circumstances, there was no reason I shouldn’t be able to do the same.

  She pulled back and wiped a hand across her damp cheeks. “I’m going to ask Rowdy to help me get a car and I’m going to go back to work.” I must have looked shocked because she laughed a little bit. “It might not be tomorrow but soon. I’m also going to move out. I need to find my own place, which means you’ll have lots and lots of empty rooms.” She started out the door and looked over her shoulder at me. “Think about that.”

  She wasn’t just swimming, she was paddling hard for the shore, and I needed to follow her lead. I was taking baby steps, and if I didn’t want to lose Zeb and Hyde forever, I needed to start making leaps and bounds instead.

  “Sayer?” The door pushed open and Hyde wandered in rubbing his eyes. His bottom lip was sticking out and his lashes were slightly spiky, as if he had been crying, too.

  “You all right, kiddo?” He shook his head no, so I sat down in one of the chairs in my office and let him crawl up into my lap. I stroked my fingers through his hair. He put his cheek on my chest and sniffled. “You want to tell me what’s wrong? You weren’t asleep for very long but did you have a bad dream?”

  He shook his head no and his soft hair rubbed against my chin.

  “Do you miss your dad? We can call him for a minute and check in if you do.”

  Again he shook his head no and cuddled deeper into me.

  “I’m out of ideas, buddy. You’re gonna have to help me out so I can help make it better, okay?”

  He huddled even farther into me and put his arm around my side. His damp lashes fluttered back closed and he let out a breath. “You weren’t there. I opened my eyes and you weren’t there. I missed you.”

  Jesus. If there was ever anything that the universe demanded that I be brave for, it was this little boy. There was no time to wallow in the past or fear the uncertainty of the future with those simple words soothing every single rough spot that was on my soul. Hyde didn’t care if I wasn’t all the way where I felt like I needed to be in order to be the kind of person he deserved in his life; he missed me because he cared about me. It made him cry because I was important to him and he trusted me. The stark truth in that pulled apart every thread that stitched my history together and unraveled the whole thing. He missed me and Zeb loved me.

  The me that was awkward.

  The me that was reserved.

  The me that could be cold and detached.

  The me that would try to make pancakes even though I didn’t know how.

  The me that took no prisoners in court.

  The me that tried to do the right thing for the wrong reasons.

  The me that would have messy sex against a newly painted wall.

  They cared about all the different versions of me and all of them were enough to make an entire person worthy of their love. I kissed Hyde on the temple. “I’m sorry I left you alone. Poppy wanted to talk to me, and I didn’t want to wake you up. I missed you, too, Hyde.”

  “It’s okay.” And it was. It really was okay. For the first time in what felt like forever, things actually felt like they were going to be okay. I finally knew exactly what I wanted and how to go about getting it. It wasn’t going to happen overnight. I’d done a lot of damage to Zeb and his truth, but my foundation was finally steady, the ground under it secure. I still had some rubble to remove, but once it was all clear I was going to let him build whatever he wanted on the space.

  Hyde took a real nap in my lap and woke up an hour later and wanted to go play outside. It took twenty minutes to get him into his hat and gloves, and once he was out there he realized it was really cold and wanted to come back inside. We ended up playing hide-and-seek and tic-tac-toe for hours until Zeb showed up in the early afternoon.

  He seemed surprised that Hyde didn’t rush to greet him but instead pulled him into the kitchen to show him all the pictures he had drawn that I had put on the fridge. Hyde was chattering a mile a minute and Zeb was staring at me
like I had two heads. I smiled at him as he scowled at me and somewhere in our standoff Hyde must have realized that he had lost the adults’ attention because he tugged on Zeb’s hand and whined, “Dad, you aren’t looking at my picture.”

  Zeb’s head jerked around so fast I was sure he gave himself whiplash and I saw his mouth drop open and his eyes blink rapidly for a second. “Did you just call me Dad?”

  Hyde’s eyes widened and he looked from me to Zeb and back again. I gave him a nod of encouragement and mouthed “it’s fine” at him.

  “Um . . . is that okay? Sayer said it’s okay.” Zeb turned his head to look at me and I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. His green eyes looked like grass after it rained.

  He got down so that he was on the same level as his son and pulled him into a tight hug. “Of course it’s okay. I am your dad and I couldn’t be prouder of the fact. You can call me whatever you want, Hyde.”

  The little boy squeaked inside the big man’s embrace and there was a spark of envy that lit up under my skin. I wanted to be in that embrace as well.

  “Are you crying? Sayer said you were gonna cry. She said she would give me a hundred bucks if you did!” Hyde pulled back and looked hard at his father’s face. It was hard to see because of the beard, but sure enough, on Zeb’s tanned cheek there was a single, glittery tear. Hyde threw his head back and laughed. He pointed at me. “You owe me a hundred bucks.”

  Zeb let go of his boy and straightened to his full height. He gave me a questioning look. I just shrugged. He could figure out I knew the odds and had weighted the outcome in Hyde’s favor without me spelling it out for him. “I’m gonna give it to your dad to hold on to, but I promise to pay up.”

  “You two seemed to have a good day.”

  Hyde nodded vigorously. “I love Sayer.”

  I saw Zeb’s Adam’s apple bob up and down. “Good to know, little man.”

  I cleared my throat and pushed some of my hair over my shoulder. “Honestly, I adored having him here today. If your mom needs a break on the weekend while you’re working, I would be happy to spend the day with him.”