Credence

by Penelope Douglas

  I hold my son in my arms as he shifts and yawns. He has sandy blond hair and green eyes, his bare feet half the size of my hand. He’s incredible.

  I kiss his cheeks a few times, trying to wake him up. Pulling out the sippy cup Tiernan gave me, I put it to his lips, his eyes finally opening and drinking the milk.

  “What the fuck is that?” Noah asks, staring down at the bag.

  I pull out the plastic container, opening it up and grabbing the spoon.

  “Some avocado and tofu shit,” I tell him, scooping up a serving.

  Tiernan is determined he’ll be as much a California kid as a Colorado one. She can keep that delusion, because this kid will be all mine the moment he tastes barbecue ribs for the first time.

  “He can’t eat tofu in Chapel Peak,” Noah tells me. “He’ll get bullied.”

  “Shut up.”

  I feed Griff, his pouty, little lips scarfing down the food, and I laugh to myself. He’ll eat pretty much anything. I guess the longer he doesn’t know how awful this tastes compared to just about everything else, the better.

  “Happy to be home?” Noah asks.

  I nod, feeding the kid more and more. “Yeah.”

  “You gonna stay out of trouble?”

  “Nope,” I reply.

  Noah chuckles as he lies next to us.

  Dad is in California a lot now, Van der Berg Extreme merging with JT Racing about four years ago. Since the owners of JTR preferred to stay at their home base in Shelburne Falls, Illinois, it ended up being pretty perfect. Dad runs the California branch, and Noah races our bikes with their engines.

  Tiernan and I moved into the house here, but just until construction on our own place—a little lower on the mountain—is finished. Which will take more than a year, I’m sure.

  The only thing other than a house that Tiernan demanded on the new property was a place to land a helicopter. There was no way she was letting me stitch up our kid if he got injured. She wanted him airlifted to a hospital with local anesthesia.

  I’ll continue customizations, she’ll design homes, décor, and furniture as the weather permits, and we’ll live for the winter and the warmth and our family with some adventures on the side.

  I keep feeding Griffin, but I feel Noah’s eyes on me, like he has more to say.

  “What do you want me to do with her ashes?” he finally asks.

  Her ashes…

  I don’t look at him, scraping the container and doling out the rest to the kid.

  I shrug. “Take ’em, I guess.”

  This is why he’s back. Why my father returned. Why we decided to go camping and be together and remember what we have to be grateful for as a family.

  Anna Leigh is dead. My mother.

  Our mother.

  My throat tightens as Griff looks up at me, his big, emerald eyes watching me.

  I force a smile for him.

  “It’s surreal,” Noah says quietly. “I think she was really someone very different down deep. If not for the drugs.”

  Why would he think that? She wasn’t on drugs in prison. She was in there fifteen years total, with some spells on the outside in between, and the only time she touched base was for money. Theft, robbery, dealing…negligence with her child. She was a bad person.

  And I do remember. I still have to ride with the windows cracked in the car.

  “Maybe she wanted to be different,” he goes on. “Someone who laughed with her kids. Played games with us and wanted a man to hold her with love.”

  An image of her on her back as she propped me up on her feet so I could fly flashes in my head. She smiled. I laughed.

  “That’s what everyone wants, isn’t it?” Noah asks. “To not be alone?”

  He doesn’t have any memories of her. Only a year younger than me, but too young. Cancer crept up in March, and it worked quickly. She died in prison a couple of weeks ago.

  Maybe he’s right. If she’d never had that first taste, maybe she would’ve been different.

  “I just want to remember her as she should’ve been.” His voice falls to a whisper. “I’m too tired at this point to hate her anymore. When it’s over and done, maybe all she wants is to not be alone now. To know that we think of her sometimes.”

  Tears fill my eyes, and I don’t want to fucking do this, but I can’t stop it. I cough to cover the emotion choking me up, because fucking Noah. Goddamn him.

  She’s dead, and I’m wrapped warm every night in a family I love. Why should I hate her?

  “Ah, fuck it.” I dry my eyes and gather up the food and sippy cup. “Leave me half of the ashes. I’ll spread them on the mountain.”

  I don’t look at him as I leave the shit and grab my kid, getting out of the tent before I embarrass myself further.

  Holding Griff close to me, I draw in some deep breaths, slowly letting it go. Fucking Noah.

  My dad stands at the edge of the water, and I head over, turning the kid around, so he can see the waterfall. The first time we brought his mom here, she sat on a beach towel right about here.

  Dad glances over, smiling at Griff. “I can’t tell who he looks more like.”

  I look down at my son. His hair is darker than Tiernan’s, but much lighter than mine. He has my eyes, though.

  “As long as he’s loved, I don’t care,” I tell him.

  “That he is.” He reels the line back into the spool. “If you want to have a few more, I won’t balk,” he says. “It’s nice to have a kid running around again. I can be better with him than I was with you two.”

  I gaze out at the scene, thinking about my childhood. I never once resented my father, growing up. It never crossed my mind that he wasn’t striving to do his best.

  Until he had her. Then I resented him for a while.

  But I drop my eyes, too happy to care anymore. We were lost and broken, each in our own way, and she needed us as much as we needed her. We’d die for her.

  “We’re not robbing banks or drunks,” I finally reply. “Noah and I turned out okay.”

  And then I turn to him. “You want to have a few more, I wouldn’t mind a sister.”

  He chuckles, and I cast a glance at the blue tent, knowing who he has tucked inside, even though she continues to try to conceal what we all know has been going on for years now. She’s thirty-seven and has no kids. Maybe she wants one.

  He sighs, reeling in his line and changing the subject. “You got a handle on the Robinson order?”

  “Yeah. Don’t worry.” I shoot my eyes left again, seeing Mirai exit his tent, see us, and quickly dive into her own, as if we’re all stupid.

  It’s amusing, though.

  “She’s wearing your shirt,” I tell him. “Better go get it.”

  He shoots me a smile. “I will.”

  Tiernan walks out of our tent as he heads off, and I look over my shoulder at her, smiling.

  She’s dressed in my favorite brown bikini and waving a swim diaper at me.

  I head over, letting her take the kid and change him as I dive into the tent to get into my trunks and grab his life jacket.

  We get him suited up and carry him into the pond.

  “Ohhhhhh.” She smiles excitedly at Griffin as he splashes his arms in legs in the water. “It’s cold, isn’t it?”

  We wade out, holding him and playing, the waterfall grabbing his attention as he coos.

  “Can you say ‘waterfall’?” she asks him.

  His eyes light up, looking at her and talking in baby talk.

  We slip behind the falls, water drenching our heads and laughing as he sucks in air, a little shocked.

  Tiernan looks around, both of us taking in the new artwork on the walls. “You scared me so much the last time we were here,” she says.

  I hold Griffin by the jacket, letting his arms and legs wade freely.

  “You scare easily,” I joke.

  “I don’t. You were intense.”

  “Were?” I ask, feigning insult.

  She knows I’m in
tense where it counts now.

  We drift in deeper, spinning the baby around in the water.

  “I should’ve brought you here then,” I tell her. “Or stayed with you in here that day.”

  “What makes you think I wouldn’t have run?”

  “Because I made your thighs quiver.”

  She snorts. “You didn’t.”

  “That wasn’t you moaning on top of the car that first night we met?”

  “I told you to stop!”

  “I’m sorry,” I say sweetly. “I couldn’t hear you over the sound of all your panting.”

  “Shut up.”

  I hold the kid with one hand and pull her in with the other. “Wanna try your luck again?”

  Her eyebrows shoot up at my challenge.

  “I can leave Griffin with Noah for a while again tonight.” I stare down into her eyes, her body pressing into mine, riling me up again. “And maybe meet you in here at ten? You can show me how good you are at hating everything I do.”

  She bites her bottom lip, looking at my mouth, and I still see her that day—backing away from me and nervous, but God, I just wanted to stay here with her.

  But she giggles and twists out of my hold, grabbing our son and moving back toward the falls to exit the tunnel.

  “It’ll be really dark in here at ten,” she warns.

  Really dark.

  I move toward her, looking at her just like I did that day so long ago. “I’ll find you.”

  “If you can…” she taunts.

  And then she disappears with Griff through the falls, and I smile at all the nights ahead of us.

  The End

  Thank you for reading Credence, and thank you for your reviews! It’s appreciated so much.

  A mystery still remains, though!

  What happened to Tiernan’s underwear?

  Did she get them back? Who took them and why?

  Think about it, and I’ll let you know if your guess is correct with a special bonus scene, available on my website February 14, 2020.

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  If you like forbidden, age gap love stories and haven’t read one of my other stand-alones, Birthday Girl, please turn the page to read a sample.

  Jordan

  He’s not answering. This is the second time I’ve called in fifteen minutes, and I’ve been texting without any luck, too. Was he planning on still remembering to be here at two?

  I end the call and glance up at the clock above the bar, seeing it’s nearly midnight now. Still two hours before my boyfriend thinks I’m off work and need to be picked up.

  And here I thought we got a lucky surprise tonight, me getting off early.

  Shit.

  I need to get my car running. I can’t keep relying on him for rides.

  The music fills the air around me, customers laughing to my right and one of the other bartenders filling the cooler with ice to my left.

  Unease pricks at the back of my neck. If he’s not answering, then he’s either asleep or out. Both could mean he’ll remember me after it’s too late. He’s not always unreliable, but this wouldn’t be the first time, either.

  That’s the problem with making your friend your boyfriend, I guess. He still thinks he can get away with murder.

  I grab my shirt and school bag out of the cabinet underneath the taps and slide my phone into my pocket. I pull on a flannel over my tank top, button it up, and tuck the front of the hem into my jeans, covering myself. I’ll dress a little sexy for tips, but I’m not about to walk out of here like this.

  “Where are you going?” Shel asks, peering at me as she draws a beer.

  I glance over at my boss, her black hair with blonde chunks piled on top of her head and a string of tiny hearts tattooed around her upper arm.

  “There’s a midnight showing of Evil Dead at The Grand Theater,” I tell her as I close the cabinet and slide the strap of my leather satchel over my head. “I’ll go kill time and wait for Cole there.”

  She finishes pouring her beer and looks at me like there are a million things she wants to say but doesn’t even know where to start.

  Yeah, yeah, I know.

  I wish she’d stop looking at me like that. There’s a good possibility Cole won’t be here at two a.m. considering he’s not answering the phone right now. I know that. He could be three sheets to the wind at some friend’s house.

  Or he could be at home sleeping with the alarm set to come get me at two and his phone left in another room. It’s not likely, but it’s possible. He’s got two hours. I’ll give him two hours.

  Besides, my sister is at work, and no one here can leave to drive me home. Work is slow tonight, and I got cut early because I’m the only one without a child to support.

  Even though I desperately need the money just the same.

  I grip the strap of the bag over my chest, feeling like I should be older than eighteen.

  Well, nineteen now, almost forgetting what today is.

  I take a deep breath, pushing the worry away for tonight. A lot of people my age struggle for money, can’t pay bills, and have to bum rides. I know it’s too much to expect that I’d have everything figured out by now, but it’s still embarrassing. I hate looking helpless.

  And I can’t blame Cole, either. It was my decision to use what was left of my student loan money to help him fix his car. He’s been there for me, too. At one time, we were all the other one had.

  Turning around, Shel sets the beer on the bar in front of Grady—one of the regulars—and takes his cash, shooting me another look as she enters the sale into the register. “You don’t have a functioning vehicle,” she states. “And it’s dark outside. You can’t walk to the theater. Sex slavers are just looking for hot, teenage girls with blonde hair and shit.”

  I snort. “You need to stop watching Lifetime Movies.”

  We might be an easy distance to some larger towns, and Chicago is only a few hours away, but we’re still in the middle of nowhere.

  I lift up the partition and walk out from behind the bar. “The theater is right around the block,” I tell her. “I’ll make it in ten seconds if I run like I’m being graded.”

  I pat Grady on the back as I leave, the gray hair of his ponytail swaying as he turns to wink at me. “Bye, kiddo,” he says.

  “’Night.”

  “Jordan, wait,” Shel shouts over the jukebox, and I turn my head to look at her.

  I watch as she pulls a box out of the cooler along with a single serving box of wine and pushes them both across the bar at me.

  “Happy Birthday,” she says, smirking at me like she knows I probably think she forgot.

  I break into a smile and lift the small Krispy Kreme box open and see half a dozen donuts.

  “It was all I could pick up in a hurry,” she explains.

  Hey, it’s cake. Kind of. I’m not complaining.

  I close the box and lift up the flap of my leather bag, hiding my loot inside, wine and all. I didn’t expect anyone to get me anything, of course, but it’s still nice to be remembered. Cam, my sister, will no doubt surprise me with a pretty shirt or a sexy pair of earrings tomorrow when I see her, and my dad will probably call me sometime this week.

  Shel knows how to make me laugh, though. I’m old enough to work in a bar but not old enough to drink. Sneaking me some wine I can enjoy off the premises will be my little adventure tonight.

  “Thank you,” I say and hop up on the bar, planting a kiss on her cheek.

  “Be safe,” she tells me.

  I nod once and spin around, heading out the wooden door and stepping out onto the sidewalk.

  The door shuts behind me, the music inside now a dull thrumming, and my chest caves, releasing the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

  I love her, but I wish she wouldn’t worry about me. She looks at me like she’s my mom and wants to fix everything.

  I guess I should
’ve been so lucky as to have a mom like her.

  The welcome fresh air washes over me, the late-night chill sending goosebumps up my arms, and the fragrant scent of May flowers wafts through my nostrils. I tip my head back, close my eyes, and breathe in a lungful as my long bangs tickle my cheek in the light breeze.

  Hot summer nights are coming.

  I open my eyes and look left and then right, seeing the sidewalks are empty, but cars still line both sides of the street. The VFA parking lot is also full. Their Bingo night usually turns into a bar scene this late, and it looks like the old timers are still going strong.

  Turning left, I pull the rubber band out of my hair, letting the loose curls fall down, and slip the band around my wrist as I start walking.

  The night feels good, even though it is still a little crisp out. There’s too much liquor in every crevice in there, seeping up into my nose all night.

  Too much noise and too many eyes, as well.

  I pick up the pace, excited to disappear into the dark theater for a while. Normally, I don’t go alone, but when they’re showing an older 80’s flick like Evil Dead, I have to. Cole is all about special effects and doesn’t trust films made before 1995.

  I smile, thinking about his quirks. He doesn’t know what he’s missing. The 80s were fantastic. It’s a whole decade of just good fun. Not everything had to have a meaning or be deep.

  It’s a welcome escape, especially tonight.

  Rounding the corner and making my way up to the ticket booth, I see I’m a few minutes early, which is great. I hate missing the trailers at the beginning.

  “One, please,” I tell the cashier.

  I fish out the wad of tips from my pocket that I made tonight and dole out the seven-fifty for the ticket. Not that I have money to spare with rent coming due and a small pile of bills on Cole’s and my desk back at our apartment that we can’t pay yet, but it’s not like seven bucks will make or break me.

  And it’s my birthday, so…

  Walking inside, I bypass the concession stand and head for the next set of double doors. There’s only one theater, and surprisingly, this place has survived for sixty years even in the wake of the bigger twelve-theater cinema centers built in the surrounding towns. The Grand had to get creative with midnight showings of classic movies like tonight, but also dress-up events and private parties, too. I don’t get down here much with my school and work schedule, but it’s a nice, dark place when you want to get lost for a while. Private and quiet.