“Bullshit.” Mason coughs into his hand.
“I’m done. Brody is neutered.” Emberlee exclaims.
“Honey, I’m not a dog. I had a vasectomy.” He calmly handles her. Dude needs a medal.
“We may be next. In a few years.” Saylor announces and Deacon grins.
“I hope it has twigs and berries. My boys have their hands full. They’re outnumbered.” Mason shoots us all a look and I’m shocked he could count so quick and accurate. But right now the score is girls – four and boys – three. So, it isn’t like they’re drowning in estrogen.
“What about y’all?” Deacon asks us. That’s the million-dollar question.
I glance to Aves and she shrugs. “Residency.” I wish I could fast-forward four years.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
“Julie.” Mason booms from the backyard. I don’t know why we have the house with a pool. “Wear this shirt.”
She’s stomping in her pink two-piece with all her nine-year-old sass. It sucks when lollipops don’t work. “Leave her alone.” Saylor throws an inflatable duck at him.
“Deacon, you gonna let her wear that shit?” Mason is keeping one eye on his four-year-old heathen and the other is watching Julie ignore him as she climbs into a chair next to Breck and one year old Nash.
“She’s nine, asshole.” But she still likes Starbucks and Deacon still gets suckered in. “I know. We’ll stop later, baby.” Julie blows him a kiss and Mason stares, stupefied. That little girl plays those men and it’s fucking hilarious.
“I’m sorry, Princess.” Mason walks to her. “I’ll buy you a pony.”
“Mason! She has a dog that she doesn’t feed or water. Nor does she pick up the giant piles of shit. Those seem to find her seven-year-old sister’s hands where she flings them at every moving target. Myself included.” I wipe the tears from laughing so hard and Caden swears under his breath. Poor guy is sober because he’s on call this weekend. Sucks to be low man in the rotation schedule but he loves it.
Kinsley looks up from the pile of grass she’s shredding and grins. “Sometimes there are flies in them.”
“Ew.” Darby tosses her hair— a trait she learned from her mother. And I laugh. Kinsley and Darby are polar fucking opposites but connected at the hip.
“Cannonball.” Holt and Nolan simultaneously flood the deck and give zero fucks.
“Nolan!” Breck hollers while consoling Nash.
“Holt!” Brody booms and Holly wraps herself further around his leg. And him around her finger.
“You ready yet?” Caden nibbles my ear.
“This is fucking birth control.” He sighs. I know he’s chomping at the bit to start a family but he’s never fucking home. And I’m still trying to find a space to open or a gallery I like to portray my work. Our basement is overrun with canvases with no home.
That’s a discussion for when we’re alone. I share a seat with Saylor. “So— baby news?” She grins and shakes her head.
“We started young so we have some time. With both girls in school, I think I’m gonna go back to work for a few years.” I get it.
“Good for you.” I pat her leg and Breck sighs.
“I wish I could go back to work. With one hanging from my tit and one up my ass,” she winks at Mason. “Make that two up my ass, I can’t find time to do anything but click a photo with my phone.”
“One more. Then I’ll be a stay-at–home-dad and you can shoot whenever.” Mason turns his smile on her and I laugh.
“No, Mace. We’re good with two.” She rubs her hoo-ha and shudders. “Fucking big headed kids.”
“I’m good with waiting.” Caden whispers. Yep, scared straight he was. His phone goes off with the hospital tone and I pucker my lips for a kiss goodbye. I know what that alert is. “Shit. MVA, with multiple injuries.”
“Love you. Be safe.” He kisses me, waves to our friends and I hear his car start up and leave.
“What’s an MVA?” Lee Lee asks.
“Motor Vehicle Accident.” I inform her. “He’ll be there until morning.” I’m proud of him— but I miss him. Having my friends close helps and knowing it won’t be forever eases my melancholy mood. Maybe we should have a kid so I’d have someone to talk to during the day.
“Chin up. Three more years.” Mason picks me up and tosses me in the water. I come up sputtering and contemplating murder.
I haven’t seen my husband in three days and I’m excited he’s home as I finish breakfast. He walks in and looks exhausted. I feel a tad guilty for the stuff I’m fixing to heap into his lap. “Hey husband.”
He manages a small smirk. “Hey baby.” He kisses me and his scruff scratches my face, feeling good, reminding me of his hard work and dedication.
“Sit down. Eat. Then sleep.” I plate him bacon and pancakes, let him get settled and tuck in across the table from him.
“Good.” He mumbles with a mouth full of food. I know he’s survived the past days with vending machine garbage— outdated at that.
“Wanna talk about it?” I reach for my coffee.
“Yeah.” He leans back and I know he needs this to decompress. “It was crazy. Three cars and a tractor-trailer. Bones through skin, deep lacerations, emergency surgery. I couldn’t keep up. I got to assist in resetting a femur, facial bone surgery to secure the jaw in place, and it was mayhem. I felt alive.” I can hear the reverence in his voice and I feel outta place in this conversation. Is this how he feels when I talk about art? I don’t think so because he will watch me for hours.
“I wanna baby.” I blurt and he stares at me.
“I think you were right when you said wait. Shit, Aves, I was just gone seventy-two hours.” My heart cracks and it’s ridiculous. This is the exact point I’d been making for a year but him supporting my decision, while I just discovered he has another life, makes me feel disconnected in a way I’ve never experienced. He softens his tone. “Where’s this coming from, Picasso?”
I can’t speak. I can’t voice my fears. They’re unwarranted. It isn’t like he has a mistress . . . he has a fucking career. Something I miss. “No-Noth-Nothing.” I choke back sobs.
He scoots back in his chair and pats his leg. “Come here, baby.” Like a sullen child, I scoot from my chair and shuffle to his lap. His arms hold me, his heartbeat soothes me, and his presence fills me. “What’s up?”
“I don’t know. I’m lost. We’re home. You aren’t here. Everyone is busy with kids. I can’t find a place to set up shop. And you’re happy. Like really happy. You should see how your face lights up when you talk about being gone for three days. Did you even miss me?” I sound like an insecure girl but I can admit I’m floundering. I’ve yet to find my footing here where I had two feet firmly on the ground in Tennessee.
“Aves.” His breath caresses my cheek. “Baby, I miss you every second I’m gone. I do love what I do, and we knew these years were gonna be tough. A kid isn’t gonna fix what you’re missing. I’m sorry I made you feel like you weren’t important. Let me shower and I’ll go look for galleries with you.”
“No, Caden. You need to sleep. I’ll be fine.” See, I feel like an ass. He’s exhausted yet taking care of me. “I think I need to curl up in your arms. I sleep like shit when you aren’t here.”
“A kid is the last thing we need if you aren’t sleeping, either. We’d be a mess.” He tries to make a joke but it nicks my heart with his innocent slip of the tongue.
I dial Breck and hope she’s gonna be down with my suggestion. “Hey. I have a proposition for you.”
“Uh, does it involve money and sexual favors because I think I outgrew that a year or two ago. I may be persuaded if it’s good.” She quips.
“Bring Nolan and Nash here. Go somewhere for the day and take your camera. You. The scenery. And your amazing photos. I’m gonna try to recreate them on canvas.” I cross my fingers.
“You know mass producing prints is easier and more cost friendly than you painting them.” She acts like I’m an idiot.
“Excuse me for trying to give you a break.” I hit the end button and flick my phone off. She immediately calls back and I ignore her calls. Her texts. Saylor’s intervention. And Emberlee’s SOS.
I can’t ignore them when they walk into my living room. I’m sitting in my sweats with a pint of ice cream and spoon. Breck stands in front of me, blocking Maury and the DNA results— that’s just wrong. “What is wrong with you?”
“Nothing. I was trying to be nice and you were ungrateful.” I snap.
“Calling bullshit.” Emberlee calls me out.
“And the attitude. I’m kinda proud. But really scared.” Saylor admits.
I lose it and snap. “You,” I point at Emberlee. “You’ve got your business, your kids, your husband, and the fucking picket fence. All you need is a dog. I hear from you maybe twice a week and that’s if I initiate contact. And you,” I scrunch my nose at Brecklynn. “I wanna watch your boys and you act like I’m fucking Casey Anthony. I offered you some time to catch a break and find time for your passion and you acted like a condescending bitch.” I suck in a breath. Why stop now? “You,” I point to Saylor. “I don’t know why I’m pissed at you but I am. I asked Caden to start a family, mind you he’s been begging for years, and he says no. Ya wanna know why? Because he’s in love with his fucking job. I can’t compete. I mean, if it was another bitch I could rearrange her face, give him the best sex, and win the war. I can’t fight his career.” I think I’m done. Emberlee stands up and walks over, circling and examining my body. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I’m wondering where the bones go when your head spins and spews green shit. You’re like Exorcist re-embodied. You done?” I nod. “Feel better?”
“I don’t think so.” I’m ashamed.
“Good. One— my life is far from perfect. I’ll call you every damn day if you wanna listen to me bitch regarding snotty noses, arguing kids, a husband who watches hours and hours of tapes so he can spot injuries in players. I also wanna shop weekly and can get a babysitter but with Caden’s schedule so wonky I don’t wanna disturb you. I’d fucking kill for an hour at Starbucks— just you and me. So, stop the pity party and speak up when you want some time with me.” She nods to Breck.
“Two— I was honored you wanted to take the tyrants of kids I have. Fuck, take ‘em for a week. Even their grandparents are scared. I could tell something was wrong and wanted you to open up instead of trying to handle shit all by yourself. Aves, we’re here for you. It’s a two way street. You don’t have to always be the one together. We all fall apart. And Casey Anthony? I’m impressed with your skills.” Breck winks and pulls me in for a hug.
“Three—” Saylor won’t be outdone. “You don’t have a reason to be mad at me but thanks for including me. That was fun. Tonight, girls’ night. We’ll grab a cab, drink, slam our husbands, and drink.”
“Nobody calls a cab. It’s Uber.” I have no clue why that is what I come up with. “And I could use a drink— or ten.”
“See you at seven.” Emberlee waves with her middle finger and I watch my tribe leave. And promptly burst into tears because I’m an asshole.
“Another.” Breck slams her shot glass down. I flag our bartender down and circle my finger like I’m a celebrity and get VIP treatment.
It works. He sets down a tray of shots. He’ll get a good tip. “C’mon bitches.” We pick up our tequila shots and forego the salt and lime. It burns. But feels good.
“Is it my turn to vent?” Brecklynn asks. We all nod. “So, Nolan is obsessed with his wee-wee.”
“Oh god. Don’t use that word.” Emberlee shudders.
“Fine. His pecker. He won’t let go. He plays helicopter with it. I told him I was gonna cut it off if he didn’t let go of it. Mason flipped. Acted like I told him I was gonna cut his dick off.” She slams another shot. “Anyway, he wakes up the other night with his little ding-dong—”
“Not that word either. Shit.” Emberlee fake gags.
“His little penis,” Breck spits. “Was hard. He kept rubbing it and I told him the more he messed with it that would happen. I was so tired. I’d just put Nash down and Nolan is crying because he can’t sleep on his stomach. Mason’s staring, trying not to laugh, and I know he’s proud. So, I fill up a bag of ice and put it on his wanker. Mason cried. Legit tears. Told me Nolan would need therapy and wanted to know if Brody taught me wartime torture techniques. Who does that?” She’s exasperated.
“Mason.” Saylor tells her. We all laugh, including Brecklynn.
“That felt good.” She sighs.
“I got one. Julie decides she is picking out her own clothes and fixing her hair for school. We’re late every fucking morning. I’m losing my shit, and by the time I round her up, Kinsley has gotten into something and either has shit or dirt smeared from head to toe. I lost it. Like I channeled Mommy Dearest but didn’t threaten them with a wire hanger. So, that afternoon I grounded Julie. You’d think I’d cut her fucking dog’s tail off and fed it to her for dinner. Emberlee, she shamed you in the attitude department.” We all gasp. “So, I turn to Deacon and beg him for help. His response— I don’t know what you want me to do. I’ve never done this before.” I spit my gum across the table. “I told him I’d go check my closet where I stashed my secret kids I had so I could ask them. Who the fuck does that?”
“Deacon.” I smirk.
“I can top it. All of it. So, we all know Brody is neutered.” Emberlee starts and Breck cracks up. “Vasectomy— whatever. It’s been over a year. Every time we have sex,” she’s cut off.
“And it’s a lot.” Breck shares.
“Yes. I’m very satisfied. Well, he refuses to come in me. He pulls out, shoots that shit all over whatever body part he’s near and spreads it into my skin while staring at it. Like he’s mourning the fact they don’t swim anymore and wants to reassure himself his seed is still shooting. I swear I’ve seen a tear leak a time or two. Who does that?” She’s flabbergasted and I have to admit— she wins.
“Brody.” Breck laughs at her.
“He’s your brother.” Emberlee reminds her. I snort. I can’t stop. I’ll never be able to look at any of them the same. I’ll picture Brody finger painting his sperm, Deacon searching closets for secret kids, and Mason reassuring his son his penis is fine.
“See— our life ain’t so glamorous.” Saylor slams a shot. “But shit, I needed this tonight.”
“How long until Deacon shows up?” She shakes her head at my question.
“I told him if he interrupted my girls’ night, or bugged me for anything that wasn’t an emergency— in the true sense of the word— I’d remove the stripper pole and melt it down to a chastity belt.” Savage— look at my girl all grown up.
“Epic.” Lee Lee fist bumps her. “You good?” She looks to me.
“Yeah. I am. I was being whiny and things are a bit off, disconnected with his schedule and us, but I know it’ll be fine. He’s super busy and I’ve always been independent. But I think I was independent because he was always there.” I’m trying to rectify my dilemma. Five shots into tequila isn’t the best time.
“It’s a fine line. We’re all still treading water. The next few years we’ll doggy paddle and before we know it we’ll be sprinting for the Olympics.” Saylor slurs. It’s a good analogy— I think.
“Ready?” I signal for our check. We need to leave or we won’t walk outta here without assistance. “I wanna get donuts.” My favorite bakery is next door to the bar.
“Hell yeah,” Emberlee is enthusiastic. “I can get some and won’t have to fix breakfast with a hangover.”
“Good idea,” both Saylor and Breck give carte blanche to our errand.
“What the fuck?” I didn’t notice it when we got here but the bakery is closed. Gone. Out of business.
“Ah, shit. The morning is gonna suck.” Breck whines but I can’t stop staring at the empty shop. “C’mon. I’ll call an Uber.”
“Wait.” I grab her arm. “Look.�
� She squints, trying to focus and the second she sees it her body jolts.
“Aves. Yes.” She squeaks.
“Which side you want?” I hope she’s with me.
“Partners?” Her eyes widen.
“Yes.” She screams with my acceptance.
“Holt and Holly do this shit. Have an entire conversation and nobody knows what the fuck they’re discussing. And it isn’t because I’m drunk.” Emberlee studies us.
“This place. The lighting. The wall space. It’s gonna be ours.” I share with Lee Lee and Shortstop.
“I’m doing the marketing.” Saylor informs us.
“I’m decorating and hosting all your functions.” Lee Lee doesn’t give us a choice, either.
“Hell yeah.” I glance at Breck and her eyes are still focused on the store— the one we hope will be our gallery.
The shop is ours and we got it for a steal. Renovations start today and both Breck and I are there to watch every nail, each shelf, every piece of floor go in. It’s taking shape, turning our vision, our dream, into a reality. “Looking good.” Mason strides in with lunch for us.
“Thanks.” Breck kisses him and takes her coke.
“Where’s Caden?” I shrug and his eyes narrow.
“I left him a note. He’s been at the hospital since Sunday. I get a text but he’s super busy.” It’s the truth, but leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. He isn’t ignoring me— just distracted. He was supportive of this endeavor, but he isn’t present.
“Did he know y’all were starting work today?” I roll my eyes.
“Yeah. It isn’t cut and dry. He can’t say take me off the rotation schedule, my wife is having her new gallery painted.”
“Chill.” He pushes me. “I know he wouldn’t miss it if he had the choice. I feel for him.” Oh, spare me. Poor overworked Caden. “I’d be gone weeks at a time. When it was just us, Breck could travel with me but a lot of the times we didn’t spend any time together. After Nolan, it was harder and weeks turned into a month before I’d be home. Y’all are some strong women. I know he loves medicine like I love baseball, but it doesn’t compare to how much we love our wives. I would have walked away from that field in a heartbeat if Breck wanted me to. I know Caden would give it up, too.”
Changing Fate (Endgame #5) Page 20
