She nods and this time I allow her to get up. My gaze follows her around the room. Changes in her body I hadn’t noticed before are now apparent. The tops of her breasts are starting to spill over the lace edges of her bra. The sweatpants she loves to wear are tighter in the stomach area. I can’t believe I haven’t noticed before.
As my gorgeous wife said, we’ve had a lot on our minds. But what else have I missed?
“Be back in a minute,” she blows me a kiss.
As I watch her leave, I honest-to-God can’t wait for her to come back.
Chapter Three
Drew
Almost eleven years ago, when we first found out we were having Justice and Harley, it’d been something we wanted, but weren’t sure we were ready for. After we had them, we were meticulous with using protection. We were so afraid of having twins again, trying to figure out how to take care of four kids was an overwhelming prospect.
But as the years have passed, we’ve been less careful. If I’m honest, both of us assumed more kids weren’t in our future.
Looks like we were wrong.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I shoot a quick text to my dad, to see if he can watch the girls while we figure out how to break this news to them.
D: Do you think you can pick the girls up? Char and I have something to take care of, and it would be easier if the girls weren’t here.
L: Everything okay?
D: Yeah, just some personal stuff we need to do.
I can just imagine what’s running through my dad’s head. He probably thinks I’m asking him to pick them up so I can have a booty call with my wife.
“Harley, Justice!”
“Yeah?”
The way they both answer sometimes freaks me out. Every once in a while I can’t tell them apart.
“Get yourselves together, you’re gonna go to your grandparents’ today. Is that cool with you?”
The loud screams of excitement give me all the answer I need. For Justice it’s honestly just another day. She’s enjoyed staying with my parents since everything happened, but for Harley it’s a treat. One she hasn’t been able to indulge in, and today she gets to.
As the girls are running around, getting what they need, Charity comes through the front door holding a three large paper sacks. Looking at her now hits me right in the chest the way it did back when I first met her in high school. The same force of feelings, they’re still there, along with the attraction. It’s a punch to the gut I’ll always cherish. Of course she’s older, but honestly she’s just gotten sexier to me. The way she takes care of this home, our family, and me? I love her even more now than I did then.
“What’s happening?” Her eyes are wide as she watches the flurry of movement.
“They’re going to my parents’ house for the day. Gives us some time,” I raise my eyebrows at her.
“Got the stuff,” she holds up the brown, paper bag.
“Did you go to the damn liquor store? Who gives paper bags anymore? They aren’t old enough to drink.”
She rolls her eyes before laughing. “I went to the little country store down the road.”
“Did those three bags cost ninety dollars?” I grab them out of her hands when one of them smacks me against the chest.
“Quit your complaining. You know they’re just trying to make a living, Drew, and I didn’t want to drive all the way to town. I wanna tell them,” she loops her arms around my neck.
Leaning in, I kiss her slowly and softly. “I wanna tell too, babe.”
Understanding flashes in her eyes, and it’s good to know we can be on the same page without even having to talk. It’s the kind of relationship I never thought I’d have until Charity came walking back into my life.
Hitching my chin at her, I tilt my head back toward the stairs, indicating she should go on up, and not let them see what’s in her arms when I hand her back the bags.
“I love you two, be good for your grandparents.”
She scurries back, her feet loud on the stairs as she climbs up to our bedroom.
“Where my girls at?”
My dad’s voice is booming and loud, the way it’s always been. No matter where he goes, he has to make an entrance.
“Grandpa!”
I don’t know how he keeps up with them at his age, but he does, bending down to give them both equal amounts of attention. When he’s done, he looks at me. “Do I need to bring them home or will you be coming to get ‘em?”
“I’ll call you.”
It’s the easiest answer since I’m not sure what’s going to happen today. It could be a false alarm, or we could be adding to this family. At this point, I’m not sure which I’m hoping for the most.
Dad gives a nod, rounding up the girls, taking them out to the driveway where his quad-cab is parked. He waves after making sure they’re buckled in. Even though everyone tells him they’re old enough not to be checked on, he still does it. Liam the biker is Liam the softy when it comes to his grandkids.
“They’re going to love this,” I inhale deeply, before exhaling into another balloon. I’m gonna have to quit smoking if I’m expected to do this on the regular from now on.
She rolls her eyes. “Don’t think you’re gonna take all the credit for this buddy. I made a mad dash to get this shit, and I’m carrying another child. My bladder already isn’t great, so if you love me after all this, then we’re stuck together forever.”
“Oh yeah,” I grab her leg, putting it in my lap.
We’re sitting on the couch in our living room, waiting for the timer to go off on the cupcakes Charity bought.
“I can remember another time we sat on a couch together,” I tie the balloon and look over at her tenderly.
“When I told you I was pregnant with the twins.”
“I remember now, I came home from the shop and you had the test laying on the coffee table, and you were crying so hard I couldn’t understand what you were saying..”
“Yeah,” she laughs. “You picked it up and asked me whose test it was, like somebody else would have peed on a stick and left it on our coffee table.”
“I was freaking out, okay? I hadn’t had time to get used to it the way you had.”
She digs her toes slightly into my thigh. “But you did, Drew. You’ve become the best dad.”
Those words take me aback. “I still couldn’t protect her though. Who says I’ll be able to protect this one?”
“You did everything you were supposed to do. Life is hard, we know that better than most.”
“Then why do I have trouble reconciling what happened with the blame I place on myself every day?”
She scoots over, taking me into her arms, rubbing my shoulders and kissing my forehead. “I love you Andrew Walker, and there is no one in this world I trust more than you. There’s no one who loves this family like you do, and I know with every beat of my heart that you would take a bullet for any of us. Justice being taken wasn’t your fault.”
But I didn’t stop it either.
I don’t speak the words aloud because I know she’s sick of it, she’s got to be sick of the excuses and the way I can’t seem to let go of the might have beens. She holds me, calming my anxieties, but when the alarm on her phone goes off we both stiffen.
“Do you want me to look?” My voice is hoarse, full of all the emotions the last few months have given us.
“Why don’t we look together?”
Like so many things Charity and I have done in our lives together, we walk toward the bathroom, fingers entwined, and as I see the word pregnant on the digital display, I know our lives will never be the same again.
Chapter Four
Drew
“She should have been here fifteen minutes ago.”
“Maybe she ran into traffic,” Doc Jones’ calm voice echoes throughout the room.
To be honest, it grates on my goddamn nerves. How dare she be logical when I’m worried to death?
“Maybe she didn’t.”
>
“Drew,” she sighs. “You’ve got to stop imagining the worst every single time something doesn’t happen when you think it should. It’s not healthy for you, and it’s not healthy for anyone else.”
“She’s my pregnant wife.”
Doc Jones makes a little squeal in the back of her throat, rolling her wheelchair closer to where I sit at the table in her room. “Charity’s pregnant?” Her hands are interlocked in front of her, almost like she’s praying, probably for my soul, or patience for my kids having to deal with me.
“Yeah.”
My fingers thrust angrily through my hair, but they don’t go as deep in as they used to, reminding me I’m not as young as I once was.
“Why don’t you sound happy about it?”
Opening my mouth, I expect a sound to come out, but nothing does. So I close it, and then try again. Nothing comes out again. Frustration gnaws at my soul because I want to tell Doc Jones how I feel, I want her to fix me, but I’m not sure if I’m even fixable right now. My life is speeding along some track that I don’t know the route to. The blind spots are killing me, and there’s no turn signal up ahead to let me know which lane to take.
“I don’t have any control.”
“None of us have control, Drew,” she laughs lightly. “The only one who knows what’s happening at all times is our maker. We’re not meant to have control.”
“That’s just it.”
Putting my arms on the table, I push myself out of the chair, then begin to pace. The cadence of my boots is the only thing keeping me from lashing out. Counting the steps until I turn at one wall, and then back again.
“What’s it? C’mon Drew, we’ve gotta get to the bottom of this. What’s bothering you?”
I’ve been thinking about that a lot lately, trying to figure out what it is I’m truly mad at - where my anger lies. “For a while I thought I was mad at myself, then I was mad at Justice…” I stop, letting that sink in for a minute. “I was mad at my daughter. What kind of a father am I?”
Doc Jones rolls over to where I’ve stopped in the middle of the floor. “You’re a great father,” she reaches up, grabbing my hand in hers.
“A great father? I blamed my daughter for getting taken.”
“No you didn’t,” she argues. “You blamed her for making you worry, and that’s what all parents do. Think about it. When your parents were angry with you, they weren’t angry with you because of what you did, they were angry because you’d potentially put yourself into harm’s way. It’s human nature.”
“Every time I look at her,” I whisper, “I don’t see the daughter who laughs, who hugs me, who cries when she’s scared…”
“Who do you see?”
This is the first time I’ve admitted this, and it makes sense I would admit it to Doc Jones before anyone else.
“I see her small body lying in a pool of blood on the floor of that warehouse. She’s shot, I don’t know where, but there’s a bright red circle of blood beneath her. Her eyes,” I choke, doing my best to get the rest of this out. “They’re open, but they don’t see anything. I’m standing over her screaming her name Doc, and she doesn’t respond. A laugh chills me to the bone, I look over and Travis is standing there, a smoking gun in his hand, and he’s telling me I caused this. I caused my child to die. How do I live with that, Doc? You got any suggestions, because I’m fresh out of those and fucks to give at this point.”
“You reassure yourself every day she’s here, she’s safe, and she’s well.”
“I do that,” I argue. “I check on her every night.”
“No, you’re not listening to me, the two of you do something together every day. Justice may not have the same interests as you and Harley, but she must have something that the two of you can agree on and do together. She’s baking, she’s working on self-defense. Become a part of her everyday life. Stop hanging out on the periphery because you’re afraid to get too close.”
“She’s right, babe.”
The soft accent of Charity’s voice makes me whip my head around. Her sure-footed strut into the room is all the things I love about her. Short skirt, black tights, high-heeled boots.
“You’re so scared that you’re going to miss something, you’re missing it all.”
Deep down, my gut knows she’s right.
Doc Jones’ soft voice breaks into the noises in my head. “Your family doesn’t heal until you do, Drew. They need to see you give up some of this iron control you have over your emotions.”
But what happens when I let go, start sobbing like a mad man, and don’t stop? How does that make me any better than what I was before? I’m still not fixing the problem. “I’m afraid that once I let go of the grip, I won’t be able to stop myself.”
Charity steps up to me, putting my hand in hers. Her finger runs along the metal of my wedding ring. Her free hand reaches out, grabbing my cut, pulling me around so that I’m facing her. “Healing isn’t a one person thing, it has to be a family thing.”
“She’s right, Drew. You’ve got to let your family help you, and you in turn have to help them.”
“If I lose them,” I let the words out on a half-held in sob that threatens to break free. When Charity puts her palm up to my face, the tears I’ve been holding in for weeks release like a fuckin’ flood-gate. “Y’all are the glue that holds me together.” I choke out, losing my shit as I throw myself into Charity’s arms, fisting her shirt in my hands, burying my face in her shoulder, letting her surround me, letting her be the one who holds me up this time.
“And you’re the glue that holds us together, Drew,” she whispers into my ear as she pushes my hair back from my forehead. “Without you we’re nothing. Be with us,” she speaks so low, I know only we can hear one another. “Be with me and this baby. Let yourself grieve, accept what’s happened, and move on. Us and the girls, we can’t until you do. We’re all trying our hardest, but there’s a cloud over our house.”
“The cloud’s me?”
“It’s the coulda, woulda, shoulda’s you remind me of when you get scared. Living our life in fear isn’t who we are, Drew. We’re Walker’s.”
Hearing the strength of her voice is exactly what I need. She lets go of me, as I let go of her. Reaching out, she hooks my pinky with hers. “This is strong,” she swings our hands, before breaking them apart. “This isn’t. Which do you want?”
Without thought I reach in, grabbing her pinky with mine.
Strong. That’s exactly what we need.
Chapter Five
Drew
My bare feet make no sound on our carpeted living room floor, but I do my best to make noise as I approach Justice as she lays on the couch, watching a show on TV. Sometimes if you accidentally sneak up on her, it doesn’t go well, and I desperately need this conversation to go well. Not only for her, but for me, too.
“Hey Jus.”
When I’m close enough I call out, allowing her enough time to realize there’s someone in the room with her.
“Hey Dad,” she looks over the back of the couch, grinning when she sees me.
“Can’t sleep?”
It’s two in the morning, by everything Charity and I stand for, she should be in bed. But she’s had trouble sleeping lately, and I don’t think anyone would be able to blame her for it.
“I did for a little bit,” she shrugs, moving her legs up on the couch, making room for me. “But I woke up after a dream and I couldn’t get back there again. So I came down here,” she points to one of the balloons from when we told them about the baby. It’s almost completely deflated by now. “It’s a happy place for me.”
“It’s a happy place for me too, but why couldn’t you get back to sleep?”
It’s probably the wrong question for me to ask. This whole time I’ve never asked her to tell me anything about what happened to her, but after meeting with Doc Jones, I want to know. Like she said, if I want my family to heal, I’ve got to start the process myself.
She s
hrugs, her lip pulled between her teeth.
“C’mon, there’s a reason why,” I lift her feet into my lap, tickling the bottoms of them lightly.
She giggles and the sound is like a balm to my battered heart. It’s been so long since I heard her laugh. “You should do that more often.”
“I haven’t felt like it lately.”
This girl of mine, older and wiser than her years, knows exactly what I’m talking about. It’s time I become as brave as her.
“Your mom and I, we met with Doc Jones today,” I start, looking at a weird design on our coffee table so that I don’t have to meet her eyes.
“You and Mom?”
“More for me, but your mom was there too.”
Quickly, she pulls her legs from my lap, sitting up. “Why were you there? Are you okay?”
Her being worried about me like this is almost my undoing. “I should be asking you that question, Jus. Are you okay? And I want the truth, not some bullshit excuse you give to everybody who asks because you think they don’t want to hear what’s really going on with you.”
All of the breath drains out of her when I say those words.
“The reason I can’t go back to sleep is because I’m scared. Sometimes the dark scares me. Harley was okay with the nightlight we use for a while, but some nights it bothers her, so she gets up and unplugs it. She must have done that tonight, because when I woke up from my dream it was pitch black and I thought I was in the warehouse again.”
“Telling you sorry doesn’t seem like enough, Jus.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“I know, in here I know it,” I point to my head. “But in here,” I point to my heart, “I’m having a hard time. That’s what I went to talk to Doc Jones about, and she told me that in order for our family to heal, all of us need to start healing. Which means I have to stop holding you back.”
Drew (Heaven Hill Shorts Book 8) Page 2