HeartStrings

by Savannah Kade

  She sent them off to school and pre-school on Monday, then pulled out her supplies and started sewing a set of clothing—matching fabric, unique designs—for the band that she'd taken a contract for. Up to her neck in orders, which was a good thing, she didn't have time to head over to Craig's and try to make things right. As it was, she was simply grateful that the Ballet wanted a fabric she had to order and she couldn't even start those pieces yet.

  Instead, she texted him.

  —Can the boys and I come over tomorrow afternoon? Would love to see you. Play with the puppies. Let me know.

  It took a while for him to respond. —ok. After 3. I have rehearsal.

  She looked forward to it, proud of herself for making everything work out. She could see Craig, see him with the boys, and not lose sewing time, because she couldn't sew in the hours after school anyway. But when they arrived, he paid more attention to the kids than to her.

  It wasn't clear if he was trying to show her how good he was with them or if he was ignoring her. The more she tried to strike up a conversation with him, the more he answered in monosyllables. Besides, she had her hands full with Aaron.

  "No. You can't pull the dog's tail. It's not nice." She told him. Three minutes later, she was pushing his hand away again. "No. You can't pull her ears either. You can't pull anything on the dog."

  So he tried to push her into a position he wanted. Like Owen was doing. But Owen was training Scarlett. He'd given her a command, he was gentle. Aaron was doing no such thing. No commands, no nothing, just pushing the dog around. "Aaron, you can't play with the puppies anymore."

  It took about three minutes for Craig to see that telling Aaron not to play with a creature that wanted to play with him was too much. He scooped up both the puppies and put them in their crate. Then Owen got mad.

  "I didn't do anything wrong! Why can't I play with them!?"

  "I'm sorry." Craig knelt down in front of him, having a whole conversation with her oldest. "I can't put one of them in the crate, but not the other. They go together."

  Owen headed into meltdown mode then, and she had a hard time being too upset at him. He'd been gypped. So she sighed heavily and packed her kids up. "I'm sorry we're having to leave so soon."

  He shrugged. It was no big deal. He didn't really seem to care. Fissures and cracks formed in her heart as he spoke. "I have to pack anyway. Wilder is out of town the next few days."

  "On tour?" She was shocked. She hadn't heard about this. She thought the next leg of the tour was in two weeks.

  "No, just a round of radio station interviews and such."

  "Will you be back Saturday?" She was wondering if he'd stay over when he nodded. "So maybe we could all do something then?"

  "Sure." Back to monosyllables.

  She made it through the rest of the week. While he called her once from the road, the conversation was short. It wasn't like the easy, flowing hours they'd been on line when he was touring. Shay was getting frustrated. Why couldn't he forgive her?

  So she put her best effort in on Saturday. They arrived with cupcakes; she knew he liked strawberry with white icing. They walked the puppies around the block. This time Shay held Aaron's hand. She didn't know why he'd gotten so touchy with the dogs lately, but he'd gotten a bit pushy with everything.

  Just the day before, she'd found him on the floor after Owen shoved him. The whole story had turned out that Owen was reading and Aaron had come up and hit him with his plastic bat.

  "He almost broke my kindle, Mom! It's not okay."

  When she'd offered to buy him a new one if Aaron broke it, Owen had yelled again. "I like this one. You can't just buy another one and think it's okay. This one has all my books."

  She told him all his books would transfer, but he still held firm. This one. It was his. Aaron didn't have a right to hit him, and he would push back if he felt he should.

  Strong words for a six-year-old. Big concerns for his mother. Sadly, he had a point. Not a complete one, but partly a good one. So she held Aaron's hand tight, even when he squirmed to be let go. Craig volunteered to carry him for a minute. But when Aaron tried to wiggle out, Craig stopped him, earning him a fist on the shoulder.

  She watched as Craig grabbed her son's fist. "No. You can't hit people."

  Aaron got angry and Shay took him back, fighting with him the rest of the way around the block. At least Owen was having a good time.

  The cold was too much and they played in the living room with some of the new toys Craig had bought them. He'd put the puppies in their crate again, much to Owen's dismay. But instead of letting her son curl up in a fictional world, he pulled out the new kid’s guitar and started teaching him how to play.

  Aaron, angry at not being included, hit the guitar as Owen held it.

  Shay had to pull him away. She tried to distract him, and eventually got him settled down with the drums. She shrugged at Owen and Craig as Aaron's non-rhythmic noise interfered with the lesson. At least he wasn't touching anything else.

  She'd gotten up to get a drink, finally glad that everyone had settled back down, when she heard the noise. Turning the corner to see into the living room, she caught only a bit of the action.

  But it was enough to see that Craig had tackled Aaron and angrily had him on the ground.

  Chapter 36

  Craig was in the backyard with the puppies when he heard the front lock twist. Heading up the steps to the small back porch, he looked through the sliding glass doors to see Kelsey and Daniel come in.

  She waved at him as he opened the door, stepping inside, then she frowned. "Are we not supposed to be here?"

  Shit. He was supposed to be at Shay's. "No, I forgot to call you and cancel. I'm so sorry."

  He hated disappointing Kelsey. She'd done so much for all of them. Just one of those naturally open, giving people, she never hesitated to help him or just be there. But she seemed more concerned for him. It was Daniel who looked disappointed.

  Craig turned to the kid. "Why don't you go out and play with them? Do what you usually do. No worries. I'll still pay you." He grinned, thinking that was a good solution.

  Though Daniel moved toward the door, he didn't seem much happier. Craig frowned a minute, then realized the problem. "Daniel? You still have a job on Sundays. You're welcome over here any time."

  That perked him up, making Craig happier. Though to say he was happy was too far out of reality for him. As Daniel stepped outside to much barking, Kelsey stepped forward. "Are you okay?"

  "I am." He breathed it out.

  "What about Shay?"

  "She's okay, too, I'm sure." The words were hard. Kelsey picked up on all that he didn't say.

  "Oh." Her face fell. She looked sad for him. "I'm so sorry. I was afraid something was up when I saw your car in the driveway. Then you didn't answer when we knocked and I got worried you weren't even up."

  "I'm up." Just like before, it wasn't the answer to her real question. But she understood. He motioned to his old, holey sweats, no longer appropriate now that he wasn't alone. "If Daniel has the puppies under control, I'm going to go change. Make yourself at home."

  He came back out in jeans and a thermal shirt with some design on it that had appealed to him in the store. His clothing was soft, his bare feet warm in the heat of the house, and Kelsey was taking care of him, making hot cocoa for Daniel and mixing it with coffee for him. She then mixed the tail end of it into her own cocoa.

  "Coffee, huh?" He took the mug while nodding to her belly, glad for something other than Shay to think about.

  "I'm allowed one cup a day. And I treasure it with everything I have." She grinned. "JD's been really good about getting the kids out from underfoot and getting me some alone and quiet time each day. He's been taking really great care of me."

  She seemed both content in her soul and the kind of happy that came with something like a gift. "Well, you take really great care of him, too. He knows that."

  Her smile was both grateful and sad. Sh
e'd been rooting for him and Shay. He knew it. But this last hurdle was too big to get over. "I'm so sorry, Craig. You deserve so much more."

  When she and Daniel left, he pondered that. He didn't know if he deserved more, but he'd lost belief in a just world a long time ago. So whether or not he deserved it, he thought he might be able to find it. He just had to get over Shay first. He couldn't find something that would last while he was still pining away for something that wouldn't.

  He and Shay had taken hit after hit, and he was tired. Especially when the hits were all at her hands. All based on circumstance. The circumstance was that she had young kids. That wasn't going to change. He couldn't change it and he clearly couldn't fix it. He'd put his best foot forward and had gotten right back to square one.

  Now, of course, she lived in his town. In his area of town. He was going to run into her sooner or later. If nothing else, she'd turn up at anything Hailey invited them to. He would probably avoid those get-togethers. He didn't want to see her; he just wanted to find a way to put his heart back together.

  Restless, he tried hooking the dogs up to their leashes. But they didn't even get up. As usual, Daniel had worn them out. That was a good thing, but not what he wanted. He unclipped them, earning a bark from Gunnar that startled him.

  "Hey! That was a real bark!" The puppy's voice had dropped. After twenty minutes of trying to see if Scarlett could offer up a real watch-dog bark, or if Gunnar could do it again, he gave up.

  Picking his guitar out of the cradle, Craig sat down on the couch and started mapping out tunes. But even that didn't help.

  He spent the rest of the week in a daze. He made it to rehearsal and did his part. When TJ invited him out for drinks, he tried it, but wound up catching a cab home early. His heart wasn't in it and his head wasn't in any game at all.

  Shay didn't call or text. He wasn't surprised. She'd seen him tackle her errant child and she'd picked up both boys and left, appalled. She didn't want an explanation. Didn't care about his side of things.

  He went to the gym a lot. Ate only a little, and spent a lot of time with his guitar and with his dogs. When the knock came at his door on Friday, he just answered it, never suspecting it was Shay.

  "Oh." He stood stunned in the doorway. He was shocked by her very presence as much as by her red eyes.

  She pushed past him and into the living room, waiting patiently while he closed the door behind her. When he turned to look at her, wondering what she wanted, she only said, "I'm late."

  "Then you should go." He headed back to the door to open it, then stopped dead at her next words.

  "No. Late as in: I might be pregnant."

  Frozen, he faced the front door where he'd been aiming.

  No. The word rang through his head on endless loop as his brain tried to process the meanings. He tried to find a way out.

  Turning, he asked her, "Are you late often?"

  "I've only been late two or three times ever." Her face stayed set in a rigid neutral expression. She was waiting on him.

  That math—she had two kids, after all—didn't add up in his favor. He thought about talking around it, but he'd had enough talking around things with her. "You have to get rid of it."

  She jerked back as if he'd slapped her. "No. I can't do that."

  "Trust me. You don't want this kid." He turned away, the bones behind his face felt like they were cracking and breaking. His lungs collapsed inward from the pressure of the conversation, the insult of her presence when she didn't even want him back.

  He'd thought he only had to get over her, but no. He was going to have to rip out his own heart, unbury secrets long dead, and hand them to her. She didn't even love him anymore. How could he count on her to keep his past to herself?

  He couldn't. But she couldn't have that child. She was already talking and he hadn't been listening.

  "—don't expect anything from you. I'll raise it myself."

  He laughed at her, a harsh bitter sound that rang hollow in the air. "You can't do that and you know it. You can barely afford a house for the three of you. You can't afford another kid. What will it do to your boys?"

  She just breathed in. "You won't help?"

  "No. Because you shouldn't have it." He barked at her, not bothering to explain more when she wasn't even listening.

  "Well, just because you don't want this child doesn't mean I don't. I can't believe you, of all people would throw a child away." She was marching toward the door, her hand on the knob when he spoke again.

  "I'll cover any costs with taking care of the problem now. But you can't have it." He took a deep breath. He'd hoped she would just agree with him, or maybe do it because she was mad at him, or couldn't afford it. But no, she was Shay, stubborn and butt-headed all the time about the way she wanted things done. He was going to have to rip his carefully covered past to shreds to make her stop. "You can't have a child with my genetics."

  She stopped, not opening the door, and turned. "What do you mean?"

  He tried again to not have to explain in any detail. "You don't want a child with my genes. This is the best course of action."

  She didn't take it. "Why?"

  So he began the painful process of unraveling things he'd kept locked up tight for so long. He turned away, unable to look at her while he talked. "You know, I was a cute kid. Probably not any worse-behaved than any other, and I was available for adoption from day one. Not one of those kids that came on the market after they were already damaged. No one took me because I was ruined from the very start."

  She didn't speak. Didn't say "okay, I guess you're right and I shouldn't do this."

  He had to keep talking until he convinced her. "I saw my file when I was ten. I wasn't supposed to; I don't even know if I'd know my history today if I hadn't snuck a look one time. My biological father is unknown, the only thing we do know about him is that he raped a fifteen-year-old girl. I'm that child."

  Chapter 37

  Craig watched as Shay stared at him for a minute.

  "Jesus, Craig." She whispered.

  He turned and stared at her. "That's what's in me. I'm a rapist's kid. No one would adopt me when I was even an infant because of it. You don't want that in your child."

  She didn't speak for a while and he stood there breathing heavily, watching everything he'd thought he was building collapsing around him in slow motion. He didn't think of it much. Didn't think of what he was in the center of every cell. Ignored it, hoping it would go away. He'd gotten some grand plan to raise Shay's kids. But brick by brick, it was all falling away.

  Her words were a whisper. "So it's in your file, but do you know that it was true?"

  He just stared at her. "How would it not be true? Wouldn't my case-worker have done something about it if it wasn't?"

  "She was fifteen?" Shay asked as she plopped down on the couch. She crumpled there as though her legs couldn't withstand the topic. He understood.

  He nodded.

  "In those days—well, even now—it’s not okay for a fifteen-year-old girl to wind up pregnant. Do you think maybe she said that to justify being fifteen and knocked up?" She asked, her hands worrying together in her lap. "Maybe you were her boyfriend's child and she couldn't tell her parents."

  "Hate to dash your hopes, sweetheart, but that's not what I'm made of." He could see she was grasping at straws, trying to keep from believing she carried a child with that history. "There's a police report on it. She was kidnapped and beaten bloody. She’s lucky she survived.”

  Shay cringed as he spoke, but he kept going, driving nails into any hopes that she'd see reason. "They did a kit. His DNA is on file in case anyone ever catches him."

  She cringed again, but he didn’t have room to let up.

  "No one ever caught him, but years later, when I was aged out of the system and my file became my own, I looked into it. They did match his DNA. Guess what they matched it to?" He was leaning in, angry that she'd made him open this old, scarred wound. Angry that she w
ould never just believe him and let it go. So he pushed some of that mad off onto her.

  She shook her head. No words.

  Good. Maybe it was soaking in.

  "He matched to over twenty other aggravated rapes. Four times he killed his victim in the process."

  Her face turned white.

  "That's just what they found. So it's probably a hell of a lot worse. That's in me. That's half of what I'm made up of. Do you want that in your kid? Do you?" He pushed, no longer caring that she was near to tears.

  She shook her head at him, tears rolling down her cheeks. He wished she'd just get up and leave. Leave him. Leave him alone. She didn't want him, and coming back around and throwing this shit at him was just mean. So he threw it back at her.

  "I trusted you. You said you were on birth control. You told me you had it covered. So don't expect me to take this. You take care of it! There shouldn't be any more of that awful man out in the world than there already is! Get rid of it."

  "I can't." She whispered.

  "You have to! Do you know what it's like to be me? To know that I have that in every last part of me? You can't do that to a kid." He was almost begging her. He almost hated her.

  "I won't tell." Another whisper. Less conviction though.

  "Great, so the kid's dad has the worst history in the world and the mom is a liar? They won't just hate themselves, they'll hate you, too, when they find out."

  She glared at him. He glared back.

  "You fucked it up. You fix it, Shay."

  For a few minutes, she sat silently on the couch, tears dripping down her cheeks. He wanted to hold her, tell her it would be okay. That this was the best option given the horrible circumstances. He did not want to carry that man's DNA. He couldn't change the fact that he did, but he could change this before it happened.