by Elyse, Drew
Approaching the kids had set me especially on edge. No one here had so much as blinked at the scarring on my face, but the reality was that kids often reacted without a filter. Their comments or questions didn’t even unnerve me. They were just curious. What always got to me was the way adults would react, stiffening up and freaking out as if something drawing attention to the reality of what my face was like now were some terrible thing. The reactions not only tended to reveal their own discomfort with how I looked, but children reacted to the tension and would become uncomfortable around me. Since I loved kids, this had always been particularly hard to deal with.
Emmy had looked at me, seen the scar, and not reacted at all. Neither had Evangeline, her little sister. Kate’s son, Owen, had though.
He’d looked at me from his spot in Liam’s arms and asked straight out, “What happened to your face?”
It was pure curiosity, and neither Kate nor Liam had reacted aside from to watch me to see how I would prefer to handle it.
I’d told Owen simply that, “I was in an accident when I was younger.”
Owen had turned to face Liam. “Like Connor.”
“Yeah, buddy,” Liam had confirmed.
That had been all Owen needed, an explanation that assimilated my scar with how he understood the world. Liam had explained to me after Owen demanded to be set down so he could run around with the other kids that his younger brother had been in a car accident and sustained a traumatic brain injury. Although the lasting effects of his trauma were different than mine, they were a context that made sense for a child.
After that, the kids running in and out of conversations hadn’t worried me.
Not until Emmy came skipping up to ask that question, anyway.
I heard Caroline cough, and I knew it was to cover the fact that she wanted to start laughing at my expense.
“No,” Park answered, and I could have kicked myself for the fact that it stung to hear him sat that, despite that fact that it was the truth. “She’s my roommate.”
“Roommate?”
Kate interjected, “Like how Owen and I live at the farmhouse with Stone, Evie, and Doc.”
I’d met Stone, the president of the Savage Disciples MC, Doc, an older man also in the club, and Evie, a quiet, sweet woman who stayed tight to Stone’s side.
“But Stone and Evie are married. I was the flower girl.”
It was clear that, even after the fact. She took a lot of pride in her role at their wedding.
“They are, but Doc and I aren’t married,” Kate pointed out. “Park and Gwen just live together because they’re friends.”
Emmy’s pinched up face made it obvious that while she was following, she still wasn’t grasping the concept.
“But then who’s your girlfriend?” she asked Park.
“I don’t have one.”
“Why not?”
“There’s not really a reason. I just don’t.”
Emmy considered this before declaring, “Then Gwen can be your girlfriend. She’s pretty.”
Oh my god. Was this child trying to be my wing-woman?
I shot a horrified look to Caroline, but she had her head buried in Steve’s chest while her shoulders shook. He wasn’t doing so hot at keeping his own amusement hidden, either. Whether it was just at the utter ridiculousness of this situation, or because Caroline had spilled about all things Park to him, I wasn’t sure.
Honestly, right then, all I wanted was for the earth to open up beneath my feet and swallow me whole.
“You’re right,” Park agreed. “She is. Any guy would be lucky to be her boyfriend.”
That felt good. Maybe it shouldn’t have caused quite the rush of warmth that it did since he was just trying to get Emmy to drop this while not making it sound like he saw me as some kind of disgusting trash monster that happened to inhabit his apartment, but it did.
“Maybe you should make her your girlfriend,” Emmy so helpfully suggested. “That’s what I did with Brian.”
Kate cut in there, “I thought your boyfriend’s name was Kyle.”
Emmy put a hand on her little popped out hip and answered for all the world like she was a decade older than her nine years, “I broke up with Kyle. Now Brian is my boyfriend.”
“Have you told your dad this?”
“No,” Emmy answered, and Kate blew out a breath. Unfortunately, that gave Emmy and idea, and she smiled as she said, “I should. Daddy!”
As she went racing off, Kate muttered, “Crap. I need to get Ash,” and darted off herself.
This left me with the options of looking at Park, which was not going to happen, Caroline and Steve, who were both still failing to smother their amusement, or Liam. I chose Liam.
He smiled at me, every bit the good guy, boy-next-door if it weren’t for the long hair and tattoos.
“Emmy’s a handful,” Liam said.
“I got that.”
His eyes moved between Park and me before he turned to follow Kate. As he walked away, he muttered loud enough that it was meant to be heard, “She’s not wrong, though.”
Caroline’s smothered laughter got louder, and Steve’s chuckles because audible, too.
Seriously, any time the ground wanted to pull me under, I was ready.
It was later, with all the little ones having run themselves right out of energy, and with the newly engaged couple obviously in need of some alone time, we’d all started lending a hand to clean up the mess. I was in the kitchen, helping Kate scoop leftover sides of macaroni and cheese and potato salad into containers.
The afternoon—outside of being excruciatingly embarrassed by the whole scene with Emmy—had been great. Everyone there, from the Sailor’s Grave crew, to the Savage Disciples, to the handful of Hoffman PD officers, had been a blast. They’d also welcomed me in with open arms. It felt a bit like one big extended family, and even just being Parker’s roommate meant I had a place among them.
I’d never had that, a big family or group of friends that felt like one. I might not know much, but it was clear Parker hadn’t either, at least not until these people had come into his life.
I was setting aside a serving bowl I’d emptied and rinsed when Carson, the original owner of Sailor’s Grave, came into the kitchen carrying Owen, who was falling asleep on his shoulder.
“Little man’s done for,” he said. “Gonna set him on the couch.”
He did that, then came back in and leaned against the counter just out of our way. With his Panama hat and linen button-down t-shirt, he looked like he should have retired well away from Oregon. But if Sailor’s Grave was a family, Carson was the dad—or granddad with the little ones. He and his wife, Jean, arrived after us. When he’d gotten the same welcome with Jess and Braden’s big news, he’d engulfed her in a tight, long hug. There was no missing that, blood or not, he loved her like his own.
Knowing that was his role around here, his next words didn’t surprise me.
“How’re things goin’ with you and Park living together?”
It didn’t sound suspicious or accusatory, but it was more than a polite conversation. He cared about Park, so he wanted to hear good things.
“They’re good,” I answered. “Park’s kind of a lifesaver for letting me rent the room from him. He’s a really great guy.”
Carson watched me speak and kept watching long after I’d stopped. I tried not to tense up under the scrutiny and make him think I had something to hide. After a minute, the intensity of his stare lessened and it felt like I’d passed his inspection.
“You’re good for him,” he declared.
“I’m sorry?”
“Boy’s always been closed off, quiet. Been watching the two of you all day. He talks to you. Talks more just because you’re around.”
I was getting weirded out by the conversation, on top of Liam’s comment and Caroline’s constant assertion that I should make a move with Park. It felt like everyone around us was conspiring for us to be together. As good as it fel
t at the surface, the way it got my hopes up had me quaking. I wasn’t prepared for the crash back to earth that might be waiting.
“We’ve become friends,” I hedged.
“Seems like more,” Carson declared right out.
I pinched my lips together hard against the desire to blurt out that I wanted that to be true.
“Car—” Kate started, but Carson cut her off with a meaningful look.
“I don’t want to put you on the spot or freak you out,” Carson said, but I felt like that might be a bit of a lie. “But I’ve been around long enough to learn to say what I mean and mean what I say.” Well, that felt like a direct bit of advice. Maybe he’d seen more than I thought. “However things go between you two, you are having a good influence on him and I want to see more of it. With Park, that probably means you’re going to have to push. You get that?”
Carson was direct, and I felt the best way to proceed was to be the same. “I know that. Park doesn’t like to share, but we found a way that works to get to know each other.”
“I can see that, but I’m not sure you’re getting me. You’re sweet, I can see that standing here, I could see it watching you meet everyone all afternoon. Sweet is good. Park hasn’t gotten to taste much of that in his life. But to get there with him, sweet isn’t enough. You have to push. It’s how I got in his life, it’s how Jess did it. You can give him time, but you let him dictate things, that wall will stay up forever. But you do manage to knock that wall down, he’ll be worth every bit of that effort. If you can get him to give you all that he’s holding in, I expect he’ll give you everything. Get me?”
Nothing he was saying in itself was a surprise. Park absolutely had walls, and I knew there was no way they’d come down easy. I didn’t know if I’d ever be in the position of being the one to take a shot at bringing them down in the first place, but I knew I wanted to be.
“I get you.”
His eyes were soft in a paternal way I hadn’t experienced in a long time, in a way that felt like a knife in the gut to experience again. “That’s good, pretty girl.”
He put a hand to my shoulder, giving me a gentle squeeze, before he went back outside.
“Holy shit,” Kate muttered.
I jerked, having forgotten for a minute that she’d been there for that whole scene. “Yeah.”
“You okay?”
“Yeah.”
She didn’t look convinced, but I didn’t sound convincing.
A few minutes later, after we’d finished our task, Park came inside. Kate was sitting on the couch, Owen’s head in her lap as she softly touched his hair. I was at the doorway of the kitchen, staring off in their direction, but consumed by Carson’s words.
“Hey,” Park called, and I turned to see him come up beside me. “Ready to go.”
“Mhm.”
His brows came together. “You okay?”
There was the question again, and I knew I wouldn’t be any more convincing this time around, so I latched onto something else.
“Kate’s a really great mom.”
“Yeah, she is.”
“Owen’s lucky to have her.”
He didn’t respond to that. We both silently stood by while Kate saw to her son until the last of the party came through, all saying goodbyes to each other as well as Jess and Braden.
Park and I said nothing to each other even as we drove back home. The whole time, Carson’s words kept playing in my head.
You have to push.
I hadn’t, not yet. I’d found a way to work within his boundaries. Our game, our one-for-one, was all about that. And I’d conceded even more by avoiding sharing heavy things so he’d feel no pressure to do so, either.
Maybe, even as his friend, it was time to take Carson’s advice and push a little. And I had a feeling a good place to start was with pushing myself.
Chapter Twenty
Park
Something wasn’t right with Gwen.
She’d been alright through most of the day. I’d known she was nervous about getting everyone, but outside of Emmy making things awkward as fuck, it had gone well. They’d all be sunk by her charm the same as I was. I knew they would be. It was just how Gwen was with people.
But when I’d walked inside to find her watching Kate, it was clear something had changed.
Her comment about Owen being lucky said a lot. I knew what that feeling was like, to see happy families, kids with good parents, and wonder what it would have been like to have those things. I’d been doing it my whole life.
Obviously, things hadn’t been perfect for Gwen. Even before her dad caused the accident, there was a lot of shit swirling for her at home. What worried me as I thought on it with an unusually silent Gwen in the passenger seat on our way home was that she’d made little mention of her mom.
Going through that kind of trauma together, I’d think they’d be close, but that definitely wasn’t the case by anything she’d shared.
We were back home, both having settled in on the couch after a long day, when I couldn’t hold back the urge to question it anymore.
It went against the rules we’d set. When she’d suggested our one-for-one, it was for both of us to hide behind, and I knew that. There were things she wasn’t itching to talk about, either. Since she’d never volunteered anything about her mom, it was clear this was one of them. Bringing it up was crossing a boundary that might change things in a way that couldn’t be undone.
None of that was enough to stop me.
“You don’t talk about your mom.”
She took a deep breath, preparing. Maybe he’d known since our exchange at Jess’s that I might push, and it seemed as though she’d already decided that she would allow it.
“My mom is a selfish person by nature.”
Fuck, that was not a good place to start.
“How so?”
She shrugged. “It comes out in everything. The cheating for one thing. I’m the last person to ignore my dad’s faults, but the fact that she had a regular string of boyfriends while staying married to him was cruel. But it went beyond that. We were comfortable when I was growing up, but we could have had more, gone on family trips or started a college fund for me, except she’d spend it on herself. She’d take off for girl’s weekends and spa trips and get a new designer handbag every season, but I’d only get new shoes or clothes when the ones I have were worn to the point that they couldn’t be ignored. On weekends, she’d sleep in late and since she was a light sleeper, I’d be expected to be all but silent until waterer time she chose to get out of bed.”
Gwen sighed. “It seems silly to complain about with how much worse things are for plenty of people. None of it really mattered. I was fine, happy even until my parent’s marriage really blew up and everything that came afterward. But that had always made a relationship with my mom hard. Not because I resented her or anything, but because she valued other things more than bonding with her daughter.”
I knew damn well how much worse things could be. That didn’t stop my blood from heating that it was clear neither of her parents had valued her the way they should have.
“So you keep your distance now,” I concluded.
She didn’t look at me as she said, “You could say that.”
“Or I could say…”
“That I haven’t said a word to her since I left for college. And that goes both ways. As far as she was concerned, once I was eighteen, her job was done.”
Fuck.
That was the woman she’d been left with in the aftermath of everything else.
“I’m sorry.”
She gave me a half-hearted smile that looked almost like a grimace but didn’t say anything. We stayed there for a long time. She was facing the TV, but I knew she wasn’t seeing it. I did the same so I wouldn’t be staring at her when she was dealing with whatever was in her head.
I didn’t know how long it had been with both of us suspended in that state before she spoke again and rocked my world.
“I sometimes wonder if they could have done more for me at the hospital. To get rid of my scars.”
It was a confession, breathed on barely a sound into the world for what I knew was the first time.
My stomach roiled, a sick feeling creeping in.
Still, I said, “I’m sure they did what they could.”
“To help me heal, I think so. But I think maybe my mom…” She swallowed hard. “I think maybe she didn’t let a plastic surgeon help.”
“Why do you think that?”
She shook her head. “There were comments over the years, as I was healing and since, by doctors and otherwise. I’ve been asked what was attempted for my scarring. I know there’s a lot of my time in the hospital that is a blur, but I don’t remember anything like that.”
I couldn’t say I hadn’t wondered. I had a lot of experience with scars, and people told stories of the shit done to minimize them when they were fresh. Some things couldn’t be helped. Until that moment, I’d assumed that was the case with Gwen.
“I think maybe she didn’t let them do everything they could.”
“Why?”
She met my eyes then, years of pain she’d buried plain in them. It felt like a blow to the chest, like the wind was knocked out of me and I might never pull a full breath back in.
“For the courts.” She dropped her eyes to her lap. “After I got out of the hospital, there was still the trial for my father, and the divorce proceedings. She took forever to get the house repaired, and I knew it was because then she could go before the judge and talk about how we still didn’t have a safe home because of what he’d done. We still had to live in a tiny extended stay hotel room because he’d destroyed our home.”
I didn’t like any of this, but I couldn’t see the fault in that. What I’d seen, the scars left from what her father did, told me that he deserved to pay. Anything that made that so didn’t feel wrong.
