Hold on to Hope

by Jackson, A. L.

  It was all a ramble of a tease.

  “Seems everyone around here is up and having babies from out of nowhere.” This time she was all raised brows and speculation.

  I chuckled, roughing a hand through my hair, gazing over at Everett who’d made a beeline for the display cases and was currently slobbering all over the glass.

  Remind me to take care of that.

  “Life is full of surprises, isn’t it?” I told her, totally droll.

  She rounded the counter, came directly for me, and pulled me in for a tight hug. Stepping back, she set her hand on my cheek and met my eye. “It sure is. And I hope you’re cherishing that surprise.”

  “I guess it’s sometimes the least expected that come to mean the most to us.”

  Affection filled her expression, and she angled her head, brushing her thumb over the freckles under my eye the way she’d always done when I was a little boy. “That’s the Evan I know. I sure missed him.”

  “I’m right here,” I told her, knowing it was time I reclaimed what I’d thrown away. Praying it wasn’t too late. That the bridges I’d burned could be rebuilt. The love I’d shunned could be rescued.

  Movement in my periphery grabbed my attention, and I looked that way to see my mom come out the swinging door.

  Mom’s smile was so soft, so good, it flooded the entire room with warmth. “I was hoping you two would stop by to see me today. It’s getting harder and harder to get up and leave each day and not get to see my rolly polly before he wakes up.”

  HE WAS ASKING FOR YOU, I signed.

  WAS HE REALLY? Love gushed from her expression.

  PRETTY SURE HE WAS ASKING FOR YOU BEFORE HE THOUGHT TO ASK FOR ME. WOKE UP TO HIM STANDING UP IN HIS CRIB, CLINGING TO THE SIDE AND JUMPING AROUND AND SHOUTING ‘GRAMMY’.

  “Oh.” Mom pressed a hand to her chest. Overcome by her love for this kid. This sweet child that had come from out of nowhere and now held all of our hearts in the palm of his tiny hand.

  She headed around the counter, and Everett nearly lost his shit when he saw her.

  “Gammy, Gammy, Gammy! Bwue ball?” He started nodding like crazy, dipping his head way down, looking like he was doing some kind of dance.

  “How about some breakfast first, and then you can have a treat. Did he eat?” She turned her head to ask me.

  “Had some Cheerios and milk a couple hours ago.”

  She tsked a little. “Cereal.”

  “Don’t start judging my parenting skills.” I cocked a teasing brow at her. Like I had the first clue what it took to be a good dad. But I was sure as hell going to figure it out. “Pretty sure I did just fine on a bowl or two of Cheerios growing up. They’re good for the heart. I might live a year or two longer.”

  Mom scowled. “Evan.”

  “Bwue ball. Bwue ball,” Everett chanted.

  Was funny how I couldn’t hear, and I still felt the chaotic nature of it. The way a child filled up a room, spirit so big and boisterous.

  Filled with awe and untapped potential.

  The reason we could recognize hope all over again after we’d thought we lost it.

  And then Frankie went and appeared in the doorway, coming up short the second she saw us standing there.

  A flashfire of energy dumped on the clutter.

  This girl the cause of the pandemonium going down in my chest.

  Clutching and pulsing and demanding.

  Everything fucking ached for her.

  Heart and body and mind.

  This girl my picture of perfection.

  Wild hair barely tamed in this messy twist on the top of her head, brown, frizzy curls getting loose, eyes wide and full of the same disarray of confusion and need and questions she’d watched me with Saturday night.

  If I was being honest, she looked a little feral.

  So what if I wanted to fucking pet her again.

  Mom scooped Everett into her arms. Her attention darted between me and Frankie Leigh before she murmured to Everett something about eggs.

  Figured she was talking food again but I was too wrapped in watching Frankie to get the full gist of it.

  Mom rounded the counter and went for the heating station where there were a variety of breakfast sandwiches that were prepared each morning so people had a healthier option than a pound of sugar.

  “Hi,” Frankie mumbled, her teeth clamping down on her bottom lip, hesitating, like she didn’t know whether to step out and act like nothing had gone down between us Saturday night or tuck tail and slip back through the door.

  Pretend like this wasn’t happening.

  “Hey,” I told her, letting the hint of a smirk ride up at one corner of my mouth.

  She shook her head a little, half amused and half annoyed. “What are you doing here?”

  “Just wanted to . . . check in,” I settled on.

  See you.

  Talk to you.

  Remind you again that we belong together.

  So yeah. I’d been worried about her yesterday. Especially considering the last thing I’d told her was that I was in love with her and then she’d split. The four of them had packed up and left before anyone had even woken up Sunday morning. Apparently, Frankie had told her mom that Carly wasn’t feeling well.

  Except I’d had a pretty good idea where the illness was coming from. Frankie filled with the fear that I was going to hurt her again.

  Wasn’t going to stop until she understood that wasn’t going to happen.

  Part of me expected her to do it again—run, turn her back on me like I deserved for her to do. Instead, Frankie’s expression turned soft, the girl glancing between me and Everett and back again.

  “How is he today?”

  God, didn’t know if I could handle her extending her care to Everett. Had nearly come apart when I’d come up from the lake on Saturday to find her with my son in her arms.

  That feeling that had taken hold.

  I tried to clear the roughness from my throat. “He’s great, Frankie. Wonderful.”

  So maybe I couldn’t help but express to her a little the way he made me feel. The same way she did. Whole. Complete. Like there really was something worth living for. Fighting for.

  I’d been a fool to let it go.

  Wasn’t going to repeat that same mistake again.

  Her teeth were back to roughing up that bottom lip. “He is, isn’t he?”

  Emotion pressed between us. A circuit sparking. Awareness coming to life.

  I peered over to where Mom was situating Everett at the tiny table that she’d set up for me and Frankie behind the far end of the counter all those years ago, where we’d share our after-school snacks and laugh and color and draw up our dreams.

  Mom had broken up little bits of egg, sausage, and biscuit, and Everett was trying to pinch the pieces between his fingers and get them into his mouth.

  All of it appeared so simple.

  So right.

  Still so fucking terrifying because I didn’t know how long I was going to get to keep my son in my life this way. If things were going to shift and get shaken or if this fucking threat was real.

  If I was going to lose all over again.

  All I knew was I was going to fight, and I wanted to do it with Frankie at my side.

  Friends or as a lover or whatever it had to be.

  I just . . . needed her.

  Needed her in my life.

  Was tired of breathing without her.

  Everything was better with a little Frankie Leigh.

  “Mom?”

  Mom looked back over her shoulder. “You mind keeping an eye on him for a second? Need to talk to Frankie.”

  Her eyes flitted between the two of us.

  I wondered how much she knew. If it was plain as day to everyone else as it was to me. That this was just meant to be. “Sure. Of course.”

  Frankie frowned in worry, hesitating, then said, “I’ll be right back. Let me know if you guys get busy.”

  I followed F
rankie through the door and into the kitchen.

  She stood facing away, the potent aura of this girl rippling into the space.

  “Frankie.” I touched her shoulder, let my hand glide down her arm, begging her to turn around. “Please. Look at me. I need to hear you.”

  Words were gravel. Hard and pained. The plea I’d made before she’d taken off Saturday night suddenly there, a barrier standing like a fortress between us.

  “I love you, Frankie. Tell me you still love me, too.”

  Shivers raced her flesh, and Frankie slowly turned around. Cinnamon eyes flashed, affection and fear roiling all the way down deep in the depths.

  I couldn’t do anything but reach out and touch her face. Set my hand on her cheek. Run the pad of my thumb across her trembling lips.

  She sighed with the action, her heat speeding up my arm and spreading across my skin.

  “Hey, Unicorn Girl,” I murmured.

  The tears she’d been holding back suddenly fell. “Evan.”

  “Hey, please don’t cry,” I whispered. “I didn’t come here to upset you.”

  “I know you didn’t,” she whispered back. She blinked a bunch of times. “But that doesn’t just erase what you did. And you keep coming back here . . . pushing into my life . . . and I don’t know how to handle it,” she admitted.

  I wanted to kiss away every tear. Promise her that I would make everything better. Hold all her fears and her pain the way she’d always held mine.

  Be the man she deserved for me to be.

  But I had to prove it.

  “Frankie,” I murmured. “Unicorn Girl. I never wanted to be the one to steal your sparkle.”

  I let a tiny bit of tease fill the last. This girl who’d basically bathed in glitter and color and capped it off with ridiculous outfits.

  Affection and grief crested her features, and I kept brushing my thumbs over the soft skin of her cheeks. “I think that sparkle just shined brighter when you were in my life, Evan. That’s the whole problem.”

  “I never should have gone.”

  “No.”

  I pulled my hands away so I could sign, so I could speak to her the way that I knew best. I’M GOING TO PROVE TO YOU THAT I UNDERSTAND THAT, FRANKIE. THAT I KNOW THAT I DID IT ALL WRONG. I’M GOING TO PROVE TO YOU THAT YOU CAN TRUST ME TO STAY.

  I angled in closer, needing her to know. MIGHT TAKE SOME TIME. A WEEK OR MONTH OR YEAR OR MY ENTIRE GODDAMN LIFE. BUT I’M WILLING TO PUT IN THAT TIME BECAUSE YOU ARE WORTH EVERY SINGLE DAY.

  Those eyes raced over my face, her fingertips fluttering up over the thunder at my chest. “And what if too much damage has been done, Evan? What if life has been so cruel and unfair to us that there are too many wounds for either of us to heal?”

  I set my hand on her sweet face, splayed out wide like I could hold all those fears. “The cruelest thing that’s ever happened to me was having to live without you.”

  Energy spun. Love spinning and spinning. Winding us tight.

  I swallowed down the dread, just . . . needing to be up front because the truth of the matter was my life no longer looked the same. “And I don’t know what’s coming. I know you don’t know all the details about what’s happening with Everett. Hell, I don’t, either. But the one thing I need you to know is I love him. He’s my son. And I need him in my life, every bit as badly as I need you.”

  “Evan . . . I . . . I . . .” She fumbled for an answer.

  “I get it, Frankie. I know you have a boyfriend—”

  Her head shook, cutting off the direction I was going. “We broke up on Sunday after we got back home.”

  Didn’t mean to exhale a gust of relief as intense as a desert windstorm. But it was there, filling the room.

  She shook her head more. “It wasn’t right . . . me being with him when I’m not over you.”

  I leaned in closer. “You make it sound like you’re trying to get over me.”

  She huffed a self-deprecating laugh though everything about it was tender. “I’m been trying to get over you for years, Evan Bryant.”

  I edged forward, backing her to the counter, loving the way her breaths shallowed out and her heart beat faster. “Yeah? Well, I think you should give that up because there’s no chance of me ever getting over you. Then we’re even.”

  “Evan.” My name was a whimper. “I just . . . need time. Need to find a way to forgiveness. You hurt me more than I think you know.”

  But that was the thing.

  I did know.

  Because even if she only hurt a fraction of the amount I’d felt without her? There was no questioning that shit was brutal.

  Gaze searching her face, I let both hands weave into that wild mess of hair. “Frankie. I’m going to prove it to you. I promise.”

  Dipping down, I sealed it with the softest kiss to her lips.

  She exhaled an even softer sigh.

  I groaned when I inhaled the girl. “Cotton candy. You really are testing my will, aren’t you, Unicorn Girl?”

  She giggled a small sound. “Hey, don’t go blamin’ me. I do work in a bakery, after all. I was just whipping up something new and special. I might have felt inspired.”

  Another groan, my stomach twisting up with want. “You’re gonna have to stop with that.”

  She lifted her chin, the feisty girl I’d known emerging from that shell she never should have worn. “Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it, Froggy Boy?”

  I pressed myself a little closer, only an inch of fire separating us, our noses close to touching. “I think you really want to find out.”

  Her hand was about to fist in my shirt when I felt the movement at the door, and I whirled around to find my son pushing through, completely dazzled that the door swung.

  My mom came in right behind him.

  “Fi-Fi!” he said, pointing at Frankie Leigh, giggling as he went.

  Something passed through her features. Something dark and overcast and still threatening to break with the day. He tottered over to her, and she only glanced at me for a second before she picked him up and pressed a kiss to his chubby cheek. “Hey there, little man.”

  “Puppy?”

  “Oh, you remember my puppy, do you? I bet he remembers you, too.”

  She started bouncing him, walking him around the kitchen, showing off all the things.

  Guessed I was getting way ahead of myself because I got the sudden, sharp sense that this was exactly the way it was supposed to be.

  Seventeen

  Evan

  Two hours later, I pulled into the drive of my parents’ house, soaring high. Feeling like I was finally making progress. Like everything was making sense. Everett was conked out in his car seat in the back, pooped from hanging out at the café for a while before the two of us had gone to the park to play.

  Just . . . getting to know each other.

  Truth was, it didn’t matter that I’d known him for little more than a week. Felt like it’d been his whole life. Like there was no time missing and we’d been destined.

  Like he was carved out of a piece of me that I recognized as myself.

  I killed the engine and climbed out, going right for the back to unbuckle him. I hoisted him up high on my shoulder, cradling him as I made my way up the five porch steps.

  Then I stopped in my tracks.

  Breath leaving me on a punch.

  Fear and dread and terror taking me hostage.

  FREAK.

  It was painted in big white letters across the entire expanse of the floorboards of the porch.

  I whirled around. Ready for a fight.

  I held Everett tight.

  Protectively.

  A feeling unlike anything I’d felt before came over me.

  Could almost feel the adrenaline get dumped into my veins.

  Rage and fury.

  I tried to breathe, to focus.

  Everett’s tiny, chubby body was tucked close, the little pants coming from his nose hitting my cheek while the air stirred wi
th an ominous silence that screamed through the late afternoon air.

  A morbid kind of stillness echoed back.

  A disordered calm.

  I spun in a circle.

  Looking for anything.

  Anyone.

  I stumbled a step when I noticed the note tacked to the front door.

  Warily, I moved toward it and ripped it from where it was tapped to the wood.

  Game’s up, you’re running out of time.

  You and your perfect life.

  I’m done standing aside and watching you win.

  Fuck you, freak.

  I’m taking back what is mine.

  Ice slipped down my spine.

  Frozen dread.

  Spreading. Saturating. Seeping into every cell.

  I slowly turned around and faced the echoing vacancy.

  I clutched my child.

  My son.

  The cost and consequences didn’t matter.

  I would do anything, give up everything, to make sure he was safe.

  * * *

  Darkness filled my childhood room. The lamp on the nightstand shed a muted, dingy glow that barely illuminated the space. The glow-in-the dark constellations Dad had put up all over my ceiling when I was ten twinkled from above like we were actually out laying under the stars.

  Should lull me to sleep.

  But there was no chance I could close my eyes.

  I’d texted the number I’d had of Ashley’s from over two years ago at least a hundred times.

  Dad had called it almost as many.

  Nothing.

  I needed to reach her.

  Get an answer.

  Find out what the fuck was happening.

  How could she just . . . up and leave if she knew something was going down? If she knew Everett might be in danger?

  Unease slithered across my flesh.

  Worst part was this feeling that this was personal. That it didn’t have a damn thing to do with Ashley.