Then There Was You: A Single Parent Collection

by Gianna Gabriela

She follows my eyes down to the pad, looks back at me, then surprises me by handing it over. Her eyes hold uncertainty as I grab the pad and hold it up to take a look. I was right, it’s a dream catcher, but this one’s unique. It has the usual webbing in the middle where the dreams are said to fly through, and the feathers falling from the bottom, but there’s also an added feature. Dripping from the webbing and falling alongside the feathers are drops of some kind of liquid. Most would probably think raindrops, but my bet is on tears. The picture is stunningly beautiful but also very devastating. It shows her pain.

  “This is beautiful,” I say, and hand it back to her.

  For a second, her eyes reflect light instead of complete darkness, and it makes me feel ten fucking feet tall that my compliment pleased her.

  Hearing a noise behind us, I look over the back of the couch and see Gwen standing at the bar watching us. Her eyes look glassy and her hand is covering her mouth. Her eyes flick back and forth between me and Kelsey before they settle on me. Her hand falls away and she’s wearing a smile. I tip one side of my mouth up then face forward again, glad I could bring a smile to Gwen’s face and some form of pleasure to Kelsey.

  LATER THAT EVENING, after everyone has gone to bed, I’m lying on my back on the couch with a notepad in hand, working on something, when I hear murmurs coming from the hallway. I turn my head to try to listen better. The murmurs stop, but then start back up again a minute later.

  I set my notepad down on the coffee table and get up from the couch. Unsure of what’s going on and not wanting to wake anyone that might be asleep, I walk down the hall silently. The murmurs get louder the closer I get to the half-open door. I stop just out of view and listen, not being nosy, but making sure everything is okay.

  The softly spoken words nearly bring me to my knees.

  “Please, God, just let my daddy come home,” Kelsey’s tearful voice whispers. “And please tell him I’m sorry. I miss him so much. I just want to hug him again and tell him I love him.” Her voice is lower when she finishes. “In Jesus’ name, amen.”

  Hearing those words whispered in such an agonizing way damn near suffocates me. It’s hard to pull in air because the weight on my chest is so heavy. I don’t get emotional. I’ve cried once as an adult, but right now, this eight-year old’s excruciating words have tears springing to my eyes. The need to rush in there and take her in my arms is almost overwhelming. Only knowing it’s not my place keeps me on this side of the door.

  Kelsey’s quiet after that. No more words are whispered. Obviously, Gwen’s asleep and didn’t hear her, because I know I would have heard her consoling her daughter, if not crying along with her.

  With one last look at the door and my heart heavy, I walk away and go back to the couch. I spend the next couple hours finishing up the project I was working on, determined to get it done quickly, then set it aside. It takes me a long time to drift off to sleep, and when I finally manage to, it’s a restless sleep filled with the whispered prayers of a broken girl.

  7

  GWENDOLYN

  I WALK DOWN THE hallway, rubbing sleep from my eyes, when I hear Daniel laughing. When I awoke a few minutes ago, I was alone in the bed. For a split second, panic had me scrambling to get the covers off to search for them, but then I realized where I was. I may not know Alexander, but the way he’s been with the kids the last couple of days, he seems like a good guy. That may be naïve of me, but I like to think my instincts are good.

  As I walk by one of the living room windows, I see a thick layer of snow falling. The thought of the snow not letting up, forcing us to stay longer, doesn’t fill me with the dread you’d think it would. It does the opposite, in fact. I want to be here longer. I feel comfortable here. I like being near Alexander.

  I spot Daniel and Kelsey at the bar, while Alexander leans back against the counter watching them, a small smile playing on his lips. The man is already striking, despite his scars, but when he smiles, it almost knocks the breath out of me. When he laughed yesterday at Daniel’s comment about Alexander’s hot chocolate being better than mine, all I could do was stare. It was the first time I’d seen him smile or laugh and the look on his face was nothing but beautiful. It sent butterflies to my stomach. The surprise on his face when he realized he was laughing said he’s not used to doing it.

  Daniel laughs again and it pulls me from my thoughts of Alexander’s beautiful face. He’s always been a happy boy, but I don’t remember him being quite this cheerful. For some reason, he’s taken an extra liking to Alexander. I wouldn’t have pegged Alexander as the type to willingly spend time with a boy Daniel’s age, but I’m glad he’s going out of his way to be nice to him.

  Will’s been gone for over two years now, and I know it’s time I open myself up to the possibility of dating again, to try to find someone that would be good to both me and my kids. Daniel needs a man in his life, and I don’t want to be alone forever. I know Will would want me to find someone else, to try to be happy again, to find a good man that could take on the father role that he can’t, but the thought of dating terrifies me. Will was my high school sweetheart. He was my first for everything. I don’t know how to date.

  I walk into the kitchen and find out why Daniel was laughing. Gigi has her puppies on the floor trying to gently play with them, but all she’s managing to do is knock them off their feet and onto their backs.

  What has me surprised and my heart stopping in my chest is the almost-smile on Kelsey’s face as she watches momma dog and her puppies. It’s not touching her mouth, but it’s definitely there in her eyes. I see more animation on her face than I’ve seen in years. I think Alexander plays a big role in that too. Her interest in him is unmistakable. Last night, the look on her face when he said her drawing was beautiful had me wanting to burst into tears. Thankfully, I managed to hold them back. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t a bit jealous Alexander’s gotten more of a reaction out of Kelsey than I have in years, but seeing her eyes showing more than just lifelessness far outweighs the emotion.

  Alexander sees me approaching and whips around to stir something in a pot. I walk up beside him to find him cooking eggs and grits.

  “Need any help?” I ask, then grab a mug and fill it with the coffee that’s calling my name.

  “I got it,” he grunts.

  I look over at him and see a frown on his face. “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah. Just didn’t sleep well last night.”

  Guilt tightens my chest. It’s my fault he’s on the couch and not in his big comfortable bed.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him. “I noticed the snow still coming down. Tonight, the kids and I will take the couch and chair so you can have your bed. I know it can’t be good for your back.”

  The glare he shoots me is sharp and says without words that my suggestion is ludicrous and pisses him off.

  I hold my hands up and grumble, “Fine,” and continue making my coffee.

  I make the kids a plate, and once again, we all eat in the kitchen with the kids at the bar and Alexander and I standing. Afterward, I do the dishes while Kelsey sits at the bar with her drawing pad and Alexander and Daniel go out and check on the horses.

  When I’m done, I walk around the bar beside Kelsey. She looks over at me, her eyes back to their previous empty state.

  “Can I see?” I ask, then hold my breath. She’s shown Alexander her drawing, now I hope she’ll show me. I won’t force the issue if she refuses, but it’ll hurt. As advised by her therapists, unless it’s for her well-being, I rarely push Kelsey into doing things, preferring to have her come to me on her own instead. I want her to want to show me, not make her. I don’t think it’s that she doesn’t want to share stuff with me. I think it’s more like she cares so little about anything she does that maybe she feels like no one else will.

  I want to cry tears of joy when she hands it over. I pray she doesn’t notice my hand shaking as I reach out and grab it. Forcing my eyes away from her, I look down at the drawing p
ad. My breath catches at what I see. It’s a whole bunch of differently designed sad faces. They’re simple in design, but hold so much meaning.

  Looking closer, I notice something else. Hidden amongst the sad faces are a few smiley faces. Overall, there have to be about thirty sad faces and only five smiley faces. I don’t know if I should cry or smile at the picture. On one hand, it’s obvious the dominant emotion Kelsey feels is sadness. On the other hand, knowing she feels glimpses of happiness lightens my heart and gives me hope. Kelsey never appears happy, or at least she never shows it, but it’s apparent there are times she does. I just wonder what happens during those times. What brings on those bursts of pleasure? I want to replicate them over and over and over again, so all she feels is that emotion.

  I hand her back the pad and scoot closer to her. She never pulls away from me when I show her affection, and she doesn’t now when I wrap my arm around her shoulders and bring her in for a hug. Her arms go around me, then tighten. I squeeze my eyes shut at the contact because it’s not common for her to put effort into hugs. I don’t know what’s happened recently, but there’ve been several changes in her, ones I pray will continue and grow.

  I pull back from her, but rest my forehead against hers. It’s amazing how she can watch me with emotionless eyes when my own emotions are running rampant.

  “I love you,” I tell her softly.

  Every time I say those words, I hope I get a reply back, but I never do, and today is no different. One day I will though. I refuse to believe anything other than that.

  LATER THAT AFTERNOON, I step out onto the porch while the kids eat lunch. Alexander’s been out here for hours, only coming in for about thirty minutes after he and Daniel were done with the horses before leaving again.

  Everything is white and covered in snow. It’s a beautiful sight. Surprisingly, the temperature isn’t blistering cold like you’d think it would be with all the snow. It’s deceptive, making one think it’s colder than what it actually is.

  I’m surprised to find Alexander sitting out on the porch with his feet crossed at the ankle and propped up on the railing. He looks relaxed as he writes something in a notebook. He looks up and watches me with an unreadable expression as I approach the vacant chair closest to the door.

  “Mind if I join you?” I ask in case he wants to be left alone.

  He flips the notebook over and lays it on his lap, then grunts in reply. I take that an acceptance and sit.

  I gaze out across the yard, mesmerized by the beauty of the place. With the snow covering everything, it looks like a snowy wonderland. It must be so peaceful living in a place like this. Cat’s Valley isn’t a large town with the hustle and bustle of cars, noise, and the awful smell of pollution, but there’s still a big difference between there and here. That’s another reason why Will and I wanted to buy land. We wanted the solitude of living away from everything as we raised our kids.

  My gaze skitters across the property and lands on the partially built structure, which I assume will be a house once it’s finished. All I can see are the bare walls, but it looks like it’s been there for a while.

  “What are you going to do with your cabin once you finish the house?” I ask, bringing my eyes to him.

  His looks over at the house for a brief second before looking back out at the yard.

  “Nothing,” he says, a strange note in his voice. “I’m tearing it down.”

  My eyes widen in disbelief. “But why? Why would you partially build a house only to tear it down again? I bet it would look beautiful once you finish it.”

  He’s quiet for so long that I think he’s not going to answer. I’m about ready to forget my question, once again overstepping boundaries, when he surprises me.

  “It was supposed to be for my wife and child.”

  His voice is so quiet, I barely make out the words. But I do, and the anguished way he utters them says a lot more than his actual words do. There’s obviously more to the story, and it’s apparent it’s a painful one. I want to ask him about it, but it’s not my place. I don’t need to worry, because he tells me on his own.

  “They died four years ago.” He clears his throat when his voice cracks. “A drunk guy pulled out in front of us right before the bridge over Hallow’s Creek. I swerved to miss hitting him head-on and ended up rolling down the embankment and landing on the passenger side under the bridge.”

  My stomach bottoms out and it literally feels like my heart is hurting at the tormented tone in his voice. To lose a spouse is gut-wrenching and one of the most painful experiences a person can have. Losing a child is ten times worse. To lose both would be beyond excruciating, unbearable. I can’t imagine ever getting over something like that.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whisper. The sentiment is so lax for what he went through, but it’s the only comfort I can give. There’s nothing anyone can do to make it better.

  He looks at me, his eyes holding a mountain of pain. “Thank you.”

  “That’s why you want to tear it down. Because it reminds you of them?”

  “Yes,” he answers. “That and there’s no need for it anymore. It’s only me, and I don’t need a house that size for just me.”

  “Maybe you’ll find someone else to share it with,” I suggest, then want to take back the words. It’s clear he’s still grieving for his deceased wife and child. To even suggest him finding someone new, even though it’s completely reasonably, is insensitive.

  His jaw tics, and I worry I’ve pissed him off. I tense and wait for him to tell me to go to hell, but it never comes. He turns his head my way, looks right at me, then says with conviction, “That’ll never happen.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say. “I didn’t mean….” I trail off, not really knowing what I meant.

  His eyes lose some of the heat and he looks past me to the house. “It’s okay.” He takes a deep breath, then brings his eyes back to me. “It was Clara’s dream. The plans for the house… they were all her ideas. I gave input here and there, but I let her have free rein.” He stops and rubs his hands down his face and looks away from me. “That house was supposed to be hers and our children’s, and I wouldn’t want to share it with anyone else.”

  I nod. “I get it.”

  We sit in a comfortable silence for a while. The sun is actually peeking out for the first time in days, and I wonder if it’s finally over. I watch the way the sun reflects off the snow, making it look like it’s sparkling.

  After a while, I decide to go back inside. I’ve encroached on Alexander’s time alone long enough. Right as I open the screen door, he calls my name, and I look at him.

  “Snow’s letting up. They’ll probably get to the roads tomorrow.”

  I ignore the way his words make me feel.

  “Yeah. I figured so.”

  He’s quiet for a moment, and I think he’s done, so I turn to go inside, but then he shocks me.

  “It’s been nice having you and the kids here,” he says quietly.

  Again, I ignore the way his words make me feel. Except this time, it’s not sorrow, but pleasure. I’m glad to know we weren’t a complete burden to him, that he enjoyed us being here. I know I’ve enjoyed it, and from Daniel’s excited nonstop chatter, and the signs of life from Kelsey, they have too.

  I smile. “Thank you for taking us in. It’s been really nice. It’s peaceful here.”

  “Yeah,” he says, then looks out across the yard. “If the cell towers are back up I’ll call Travis tonight to get an update about the roads.”

  “Okay.”

  I go back inside, hating the fact that we could be gone tomorrow. There’s no telling when we’ll see him again, and that thought doesn’t settle well in my stomach. It actually twists it in knots. I’ve got no right to feel this way. The only reason we’re here is because we had no choice, and it’s only been three days, but I’ve gotten used to waking up and seeing him. I don’t know why, but I look forward to it.

  The kids are done eating when I walk b
ack inside, so I wash the few dishes that are dirty. After, I roll some hamburger meat into meatballs and throw them in the crockpot for dinner along with some seasoning, the whole time silently wishing the snow would pick back up and keep us here a few more days.

  THAT EVENING, AFTER everyone is finished with dinner and the kitchen is cleaned, we all sit in the living room watching Lilo and Stitch, one of Daniel’s favorite movies. He’s on his stomach on the floor with Gigi lying beside him. Both canine and boy have taken a strong liking to the other. Several of the puppies are curled up next to Daniel, while the rest are against their mom. I may have to talk to Alexander about getting one of the pups when they’re ready to be adopted.

  And no, I’m not using that as an excuse to see him again. Or that’s what I tell myself anyway.

  I’m sitting on one end of the couch, Alexander on the other, with Kelsey between us. I was surprised when he stopped on the movie even before Daniel had a chance to ask. I wouldn’t have pegged him for watching cartoon movies, and it brings a smile to my face because I know he’s doing it for Daniel. Every time Daniel laughs at something that happens, I catch Alexander looking at him. I think he likes knowing he’s pleased my son.

  Kelsey’s sitting cross-legged watching the movie, but she doesn’t laugh when something funny happens, instead just stares at the screen. I’d give anything to hear her giggle again.

  Once the movie is over, I get up from the couch to put the clothes from the washer into the dryer. This is the second time I’ve washed clothes since being here. I can’t stand wearing the same clothes more than one day.

  When I walk back into the living room, Kelsey has her drawing pad in her lap again and Daniel is rolling around on the floor with squirming puppies all over him. Alexander’s sitting at the bar with the same notepad he had earlier outside.

  I walk to the back of the couch. “Hey, kids. I’m going to grab a shower.”