How To Tame Beasts And Other Wild Things

by A. Wilding Wells

  “Christ, Matilda. I’m sorry, love. Fuck, and I just tore him a new one. No wonder he’s a grump today.”

  Why are my lips quivering? My hands shaking? Why am I already mourning the man I call Dad, who hates me so much?

  “He’s always a grump.” I shouldn’t feel anything. Relief. God, what a horrid thing to think. “I think he’s staying.”

  “That’s no problem. We have room for him and Molly. We’ll figure it out.”

  Disbelief robes me as I blow my cheeks out. “Permanently.”

  “The hell he is.” Balthazar’s eyes widen as he grinds his jaw.

  “I know, right? How on earth?”

  “Not on this Earth. Not with me here.”

  I chew my lips as the realization sinks in. “What are we going to do?”

  He drags a hand down his face. “You think he’s really staying? This is still his farm.”

  “That’s what Molly says. Well, her body language said it, anyway. I stopped her from telling me.”

  “Let’s not panic. I don’t know what that means, but we’ll figure it out.”

  My arms flap as I thrash about to get out of his arms. “You’re not freaked out?”

  “I didn’t say that—just going to chew on this. I’m very clear about what I want in my life right now. I didn’t get to finish what I was about to say earlier, which is I love you. I want you to stay. I don’t want you to leave me or the boys. Not ever. I’m not asking for an answer. I’m just telling you how I feel. I’m putting it out there for you to consider. Us, long term. At least think about it. No need to say anything back. I realize you just got one bomb dropped on you.”

  “Wow. This is a big turkey day. We’re giving the Macy’s Day Parade a run for their money in terms of hot air.”

  Balthazar’s jaw flicks. “It’s helium.”

  “I was making a joke. I know you weren’t.”

  “Matilda?” He drops his head, eye closed.

  “Sorry. It’s a lot to process.” I let out another long breath, and acid lines my gut. “I need to change my clothes. And I need to check the turkey.” My face crumples as I grind my teeth. “And I need to…” I massage my temples as words fail me. “And potatoes… I also, I need to… Oh, shoot.” I swallow hard, pressing a hand to my stomach. “He needs a cocktail.” I sob and gasp for air as my throat closes. “My father’s going to die,” I hiss. “I hate him. He hates me. I want to tell him that he should tell me that he loves me. Doesn’t he fucking love me?” I grab Balthazar’s shirt in my fists. “Shouldn’t he tell me that I’m good enough to love?”

  “Don’t ever say you’re not good enough.” His hands grip my cheeks eclipsing my pain. “You’re beyond good. Matilda, have you heard a word I’ve said over the last… Fuck. You’re perfect and you’re my world. You and the boys are my world. Isn’t that enough to hear from one person? To be someone’s world? It’s big, you know.”

  He’s right. But I’m in a fast-whirling blender. I rock in place as I curl my hands over my head. It’s hard to see right in a blender of wrong. Wrong only blurs your vision. Wrong hurts and blinds. Wrong hides everything.

  “But my father—” My chest tightens.

  “Matilda, this might change him. But it might not. If he does plan on staying, I need to know you can handle it, that you can get a grip on him being who he is, a fucking jerk. He may become more of a jerk, or maybe he’ll realize how lucky he is to have an incredible daughter like you. You might need to find a way to connect even if he can’t.”

  “What the hell does that mean, ‘need to know I can handle it’? He doesn’t want to connect with me, you heard him earlier. You have no idea what this feels like!” I scramble to my feet and march into my bathroom while blowing out a noisy breath. I can’t just flip a switch and change how I feel about my dad.

  Balthazar leans alongside the doorjamb with his arms crossed over his chest. “Yeah, I have no idea. I’ve never had the chance to know my parents. This is an opportunity, maybe you need to get over yourself and deal with it. This will not be easy. You have a father who is an asshole yes, but he’s still your father.”

  “Oh, sorry I’m emotional.” I grab my brush and rake through my hair. “My world has just changed, I can’t see straight. Why don’t you go downstairs and make nice with him while I have my little pathetic-as-fuck conniption fit. Is that better?”

  “I’m not trying to piss you off, I’m just saying this is an opening that you might want to take. Christ, Matilda, grow the hell up. This is big stuff,” he shouts, squinting his eye at me as he backs away then turns toward the door. “You can stay up here and pout or you can join us with an open mind. Imagine what he’s going through. I’ll be downstairs.”

  “Good luck making the rest of the meal.” I roll my eyes as I mop my brow. “I’ll see you at Christmas.” God. What am I, twelve? I look at my teary-eyed reflection. “Grow up, Matilda, show him what you’re made of. This is an opportunity!”

  24

  Balthazar

  To unravel me

  You need a simple key,

  No key that was made

  By locksmith’s hand,

  But a key that only I

  Will understand.

  A Cipher

  An hour later as I’m in the kitchen placing the needle onto a record Matilda saunters down the stairs.

  “I’m sorry I was a jerk.” Her cheeks flush as she fidgets with a button on her shirt. “Maybe I come by it honestly.”

  “You’re not a jerk, you’re upset. I’m sorry if I added to it.”

  She steps toward me and leans her body against mine. Sweat tickles my scalp as Everit enters the kitchen seconds later. Our eyes meet, his furrowed brow and clenched jaw intensify the closer he gets to us. Matilda stiffens when he passes us and saunters to the sink.

  “You sew that frock you’ve got on, Matilda?” he asks with a slight laugh.

  She twists in my arms, facing him. “I did, I sew a lot of my clothes.”

  “I can tell, it looks handmade.” He snickers between sips of water. “You should take some classes.”

  She drums her fingers on her arm. “I could teach sewing classes.”

  “To the blind.” He scoffs and walks into the pantry. I fist my hands and follow him, stopping at the threshold.

  “I’m not sure what you’re looking for, Everit, but the way you talk to Matilda is going to get you nothing but hatred. I’d suggest you take a closer look at your daughter, maybe open your eyes and see what I do. A beautiful woman in more ways than I can begin to describe.”

  Everit pokes through the shelves taking a box of crackers and a jar of peanuts. As he strolls toward me, I move aside to let him pass. After pouring himself a glass of Bourbon, he takes a seat at the kitchen table.

  He clears his throat as he opens the peanuts. “I never said she wasn’t beautiful. I said she should take classes. Maybe cooking too, something smells like it’s burning.”

  My eyes travel to Matilda at the stove where she’s stirring something. She spins around and shakes a spoon at Everit, something flies off the spoon and splatters on the floor. “Can you fucking shut up for one second!” she yells and stomps over to get the paper towel. Dropping to her knees while glaring at Everit she continues, “So help me god, if you ruin this holiday, you will not be staying here.”

  Everit smirks as he scratches his angular jaw. “This is my house, I’ll stay if I like. By the way, I haven’t met the new nanny yet, she coming for dinner?”

  Matilda leaps up and slams her hands down on the tabletop. “There won’t be a fucking nanny!”

  I place my hand over hers, then try to pull her back. She pushes me away then cracks her knuckles.

  “Oh, really?” Everit leans back in his chair with a wide grin on his face. “Will there be a wife? ’Cause you two have a lot to lose if there isn’t.”

  My throat tightens as I envision the farm and Matilda disappearing from my life.

  Her hands hurry to her hips as sh
e taps one foot on the floor. “There might just be.” She glares at him then smiles at me.

  I wink at her then focus in on Everit’s clamped jaw as I rub the back of my neck. I should be elated by her words, but I know the power he holds over both of us. She’s doing nothing but irking him with her confessions.

  He raises one eyebrow. “I’ll need to meet her, make sure she fits the bill. Since I’m footin’ the bill.” He nods.

  And now I know I’m fucked. “Everit, listen.” I sink my hands into my jeans pockets while searching my brain for the next thing to say. “Matilda and I have been…”

  “Fucking?” He chuckles while stroking his throat. “You two have taken this whole thing and turned it into a selfish little fuck fest, haven’t you? I might be the only one in the family that is considering Lavinia’s boys and their welfare. You don’t need a slut, Balthazar, you need a wife like Lavinia was. A good mother with smarts. I suggest you keep your dick in your pants, because if you don’t, Matilda here’ll invite it into every…”

  In three strides I’m around to his side of the table. “How dare you speak to Matilda like that!” I haul him up by his collar as his eyes widen. “She and these boys are my life, I love her.” I slowly inhale a breath as his face reddens. “Lavinia was…she was a fucking…”

  “Balthazar.” Matilda’s hand rests on my shoulder. I unclench my grip on Everit’s shirt and jerk back as he drops down to his chair sputtering.

  How dare he compare Lavinia and Matilda! He has no idea who she was, or how she left me and the boys.

  “We need to have a talk.” I motion Everit to the door as I twist my knotted neck.

  “I should come,” Matilda says, biting her lip with a pinched expression on her face.

  I shake my head as my limbs throb. “No, you shouldn’t.”

  25

  Matilda

  I’m pleasing to the eye

  A tool for many absent of mind

  A tapestry of fickle lies

  Blind to even the most pensive spies

  I’m often the breeder of fervent lust

  But I am by far one you shouldn’t trust

  Appearance

  Between bites of my nails, I sip a glass of champagne while waiting for my dad and Balthazar to come back. It’s been twenty minutes since they stormed out the front door and took off in Balthazar’s truck. I wanted to run after them as the taillights disappeared over the hill in a swirl of mist. Sighing heavily, I glance at the clock on the wall then peer out the front windows holding my breath.

  “So you love him.” Molly declares as she bounces Jax and Jinx on her knees. The boys giggle as they flail around grabbing her then each other.

  “I do. I haven’t said those words to him yet, but yeah, I’m in love. Fuck!” I cringe as the F word comes out of my mouth. I’ve tried so hard not to swear in front of the boys. Ruck repeats, “I’m in love, fuck,” three times. Molly and I crack up. The boys don’t seem to hear a thing in their joyful state of horsing around.

  Molly grins. “I’ll bet he’s something else in the sack!”

  “Molls.” I shake a finger at her. “The boys.”

  “Oh please! I’m their great-aunt. I’m allowed to be sassy-mouthed and a little on the tipsy side of drunk around them.” She wraps her arms around the boys and squeezes until they squeal. As they slide off her lap she motions me to the table. I slink into the chair at her side and we clink our glasses.

  “Dad holds a lot over us.” I drop my chin to my chest as the shame of it stings me. “Do you know that?”

  Molly tips my chin up and studies my face. “I do, he filled me in on the wifey plan, and your trust.”

  “Can you believe this shit? Now what do I do?” I palm my face as my throat thickens with disgust.

  Champagne bubbles over the top of my glass as Molly fills it. “Seems clear to me you know exactly what to do if you’re in love.”

  “Dad could stop it all from happening.”

  “Your father has big nuts, but let me tell you something, bunny. He cannot stop love, no one can.”

  “He could kick us off the farm and keep my trust. I was going to do really good things with it. The kinds of things he would never do.” My eyes prickle as my stomach tightens. I should tell him I don’t need him, don’t need his money or this farm. Maybe the choice doesn’t even exist at this point. Where the hell are those two?

  “And?” She smiles smugly.

  “And that might freak Balthazar out. What if he doesn’t want me without the farm, what if my trust matters to him?” I wring the edge of my shirt as my mouth gets gummy.

  “I doubt it. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Anyway, I gave your dad a piece of my mind on the way here. It might take a second for my advice to register but at some point it will.”

  “Advice about me?” I jump off my chair and rush to the door at the sound of tires crunching in the snow, to see Duke and Balthazar’s trucks.

  “Yes, about you! This cancer might wake him up. Give him time,” Molly says as she places a hand on my shoulder in a loving squeeze.

  Duke and Alfie walk ahead of Dad and Balthazar. I study their faces in search of clues as snow floats from the darkening sky. How is it they’re all laughing? How is it that Balthazar has a hand on my dad’s shoulder for a pat as they near the porch? I scamper over the oven with my hands trembling as my heart rate zips. What did they talk about?

  “Smells good in here,” Duke says as the door creaks open. I shoot him a smile as he saunters to my side. “Happy Thanksgiving, thanks for including us today.” He kisses my cheek.

  “Don’t be thankful, this might be more like the Fourth of July,” I whisper as he leans over the stove and thrusts a finger into the pan of gravy. “Explosive to say the least.”

  Alfie pecks me on the cheek as I glance at Balthazar then my dad, who nods at me with a tight-lipped smile. I huff out a breath and stare at him while shifting my weight from leg to leg. Dad walks toward me with his hands sunk in his pant pockets. I want to hide in the pantry but I fist my skirt into my hands as I bury my fear and stay calm. Numb.

  “I’m sorry for what I said earlier.” Tears cloud my eyes as he touches my arm, his face reddens when I pull away. I look past his shoulder to where Balthazar is standing chatting to Duke and Molly. Our eyes meet and his lips slide into a goofy grin.

  “Um, thanks.” My voice cracks as a bittersweet ache tugs at my heart. It’s going to take a lot more than one apology, but this is a start.

  “We should talk,” he says, pinching the space between his eyebrows.

  “Sure,” I answer after clearing my throat. I wouldn’t know where to begin. Sorry you’re dying. Wish you loved me more. Did you really know who Lavinia was? What did I do wrong? I’m in love. I was engaged. It’s endless.

  After Dad walks away, I gulp down the rest of my champagne. At any other point in my life, this would be the moment in the party when I would make my escape. I’d go out to the barn, or I’d drive to the shelter. Or I’d sit in my room and sew. “Suck it up,” I mumble under my breath as I white-knuckle the edge of the sink.

  “Hey, pretty eyes.”

  My shoulders drop in relief at Balthazar’s voice. I spin to face him. “Hey, how did that go?”

  “Better than I would have imagined.” His fingers loosely clasp mine as he rolls his neck back and forth. “You’re shaking.”

  “I know, I’ll admit I was nauseated waiting for you to get home. Where’d you go?”

  “Into town for a beer, and a reality check. He needed to hear some things about his daughters.”

  He sighs, sounding satisfied as he kneads my shoulders. I picture Dad and Balthazar’s exchange as I slump in disbelief.

  “I’ll bet there were a few minutes of ugly, then, huh?” I chuckle.

  “More than a few. Denial can be a tough thing to work around. I was honest with him about us, about your sister, and about our future. I also told him he’d better turn it around today if he plans on staying
. Cancer or not, I made it clear his attitude toward you will not be tolerated.”

  “Did he threaten you? The farm or anything like that?”

  “It didn’t come up. As we were driving home, he did say he wants your forgiveness for being such an ass. I told him he’d have to beg for it.”

  I press my forehead onto his chest. “I owe you.”

  “Oh, I’ll be getting everything I deserve later,” he says, grabbing handfuls of my bottom. I squeal in response. “You owe me and then some.”

  26

  Balthazar

  Placed above it makes greater things small.

  Placed beside it makes small things greater.

  In matters that counts it always comes first.

  Where others increase it keeps all things the same.

  What is it?

  1

  I glance across the table and grin, a feeling of lightness in my heart as I reflect on my earlier conversation with Everit. He might not have liked where it began when I filled him in on who Lavinia was as a mother and wife. Self-centered. Absent. Cheating. But there’s no question in my mind, when we walked out of that bar I was smug with confidence. Maybe too smug.

  Lifting my glass in the air to draw everyone’s attention, I begin a toast. “Matilda is always scurrying around this place, doing this and that, making the farm and this house more special, making meals, holidays, and everything in between more meaningful, so I thought, today, we could go around the table and each say something we’re grateful for, anything at all. I’ll begin.” I sit my glass down, then take Matilda’s left hand and Rowdy’s right.

  Everyone else at the table follows suit.

  “Besides my sons, I’ve had a crap couple of years. Then, uh… Well, a few months ago, a sweet, pretty-eyed little miracle flew into town, and damn if she didn’t fly straight into my heart as well. I’m grateful for my family—that would include all of you.” I clear my throat as I look around the table, trying to seek everyone’s eyes, including Everit’s.