Honest Love

by Lauren K. McKellar

  He shuffled in his bed, moving his body about without leaving his seat. Everly left the room and me with my mouth open. What was she doing?

  “Excuse me,” I said to Dad, then hoisted Piper up in my arms and headed to the corridor where I closed the door softly behind me.

  Everly stood there, looking up and down the hall.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  “Getting the man what he needs.” She shrugged, as if it were really that simple.

  “What he needs is to be brought back to reality. To stop living that nightmare over and over again,” I protested. “This is how it starts. Then it gets worse and worse, until the bomb explodes in his mind. We have to try and get him out of this funk.”

  “Or maybe, he needs us to experience it with him. Maybe he needs to be taken from the café so he doesn’t get hurt, but still kept in that reality. Maybe he needs someone to just believe in him.” She shrugged. “Either way, I could use a coffee. There’s no crime in getting him one, too.”

  “What happened to honesty?” I pressed. “You said honesty mattered a lot to you. That you understood honest love. Doesn’t that mean telling Dad the truth? Doesn’t that mean being open with him and helping him connect to reality?”

  A sad expression passed over her features. “Honest love does matter. But you’re missing the second word.” She stepped closer, tucking a strand of Piper’s hair behind her ear. “Honest love. For me, that means loving someone without any barriers. Without anything standing in your way or coming between you.” She gestured to the room door. “Your father has this horrific incident in his past, and his inability to move past it is coming between you. If you honestly love him, can’t you support him through it instead of fighting him every step of the way?”

  “How dare you suggest I don’t love him?” Menace hung heavy in my tone. Piper whimpered, and I pressed a kiss to her forehead.

  “How come you don’t give him a chance?” she asked with her arms out wide, as if my words had rolled off her back and onto the speckled linoleum floor. “I’m going to the common room.”

  And with that, she walked down the hall, away from Piper and me, and not for the first time in the last few weeks, I felt everything. Anger, doubt, love, hate—they rolled around inside of me until I wanted to explode. I needed my goddamn punching bag.

  I threw my head back, staring at the white fluro overhead. “For fuck’s sake,” I muttered.

  “Fah,” Piper repeated.

  My heart sunk.

  Oh, shit.

  That wasn’t good.

  That wasn’t good at all.

  “Faaaaaaar out,” I said, trying to cover my tracks.

  Piper studied me with those big blue eyes, unamused.

  Why were all the women in my life messing with me today?

  I turned and headed back to Dad’s room.

  His eyes were on the television, some daytime soap humming white noise. I sank down into the chair beside him.

  “You’re back,” he sighed. “Well, I knew the peace around here couldn’t last forever.”

  Dad never used to be that grumpy. He used to laugh, love, living fast and free.

  That day stole that from him.

  It stole all that and more.

  But as I sat there, wondering how long we had until the bomb went off again, I couldn’t help but replay Everly’s words. What if she was right? Was telling him the truth helping him? Loving him? Or was it just being honest?

  I made a note to ask his doctor. The nurses here all acted as if he needed to be brought back to reality, but perhaps there was no harm in doing something different. Everything we’d tried so far clearly wasn’t working.

  “Tea is up.” The door opened, and a nurse ushered Everly in before closing it behind her. Everly walked a plastic brown tray over to the table by Dad’s bed, placing it down. “One black tea, one sugar.” She took it off the tray and placed it on the bedside table. “And they were all out of banana bread, so I got you a Snickers from the vending machine.”

  “Hmph. Thanks.” Dad took the chocolate bar and worked on the plastic. “How much do I owe you?”

  Everly took her mug of coffee and rested the tray against the wall, sitting on the chair opposite mine. “Consider it my shout. You can get the next one.”

  Dad stopped. Looked at her. Narrowed his eyes. “Are you flirting with me, young lady?”

  “No!” She laughed, the sound pure joy. “You bad thing.”

  “Just checking.” He turned to me, a smile lighting his whole face. It was as if someone was holding the strings to all the lines that made him sad, that made him frown, and stretching them upwards. “You’re lucky to have this one, Cameron. She’s a keeper.”

  My chest tightened.

  My heart jumped to my throat.

  Cameron.

  He called me Cameron.

  Chapter 20

  The car ride home was as quiet as the trip up was. Everly didn’t say a word.

  She didn’t have to.

  I could tell without looking at her that she was gloating.

  Once we pulled into the drive, I took a sleeping Piper inside, placing her in her crib before softly snicking the door closed.

  Everly stood in my living room, her arms folded across her chest. The grin on her face reached her eyes, her brow, her goddamn hair—it was everywhere.

  “Go on. Say it,” I grunted, moving past her and into the kitchen.

  “Say what?” Everly feigned innocence, but I swore, she skipped along behind me. She actually skipped.

  “You know. You told me so. You were right.” I waved a hand as I opened the fridge. “Want a drink?”

  Her eyes scanned the offerings. “Sure. Soda water, thank you.” She took out two glasses while I opened the bottle. “And I’m not going to gloat.”

  “Really?” I poured the drinks. “Because that smile, the way you were skipping—they sure look like the actions of a gloater to me,” I teased, waving my finger around her face to indicate the incriminating expression.

  “That’s a shame.” She grabbed my finger.

  Images flashed in my mind. Her putting that finger in her mouth. Slowly running her tongue along it. Sucking, licking, biting.

  Bella.

  I didn’t want to think about her, but now that I had, I couldn’t force her face away.

  And Everly deserved more than that.

  Everly deserved someone who was wholly committed to her.

  But could I be that man? Maybe not right now, but sometime soon?

  She didn’t seem to notice my internal struggle, taking her soda and swallowing it down in three long sips. “So I was thinking, perhaps I could come around tonight once Piper’s asleep. Do some more boxing.”

  I frowned. What had brought that on? And how come after disappearing for a week she was suddenly so eager to come back? “Everly, you know you can talk to me, don’t you? If there’s anything on your mind—”

  “The only thing on my mind is learning how to box.” She challenged me with a level stare.

  I met her gaze, not letting her get out of it that easily. “You’re sure that’s the only thing?”

  “I’m sure.” Her voice didn’t waver. “That and how right I was at the care centre today.”

  And just like that, the Everly I’d come to know and care for was back, a smile dancing across her face as she placed the soda water back in the fridge. When I turned over my shoulder to ask her to hand it back so I could refill my glass, I was sure her eyes were on my butt.

  The thought didn’t ravage me with guilt.

  The thought made me smile.

  The days fell into a pattern. In the mornings, Piper and I went for a walk. Sometimes, we stopped by Everly’s. Sometimes, we gave her space. Twice this week, we’d gone to visit Dad, and each time, Everly was there in the café with him, taking him to a space next door, somewhere he should be “safe”, but believing his visions. Seeing it with him.

  He hadn’t reme
mbered my name again. He hadn’t given any indication that this was helping, but on the third trip, he didn’t scream so loud, his pain didn’t seem quite as intense, and I couldn’t help but wonder if it was because of her. Still, the visits were tense, and by the time I got to the car, my shoulders ached from tightening muscles, and my palms were slippery with sweat. It was as if I was waiting for the explosion. As if I knew it was coming, and instead of running away, I had to sit there and watch the torture twist his face, listen to the screams that rent his throat.

  Everly just smiled, acting as if what we were doing was normal, as if everything was goddamn fine, and it was a godsend. Without her, it would have been harder to persevere.

  Every night at seven, I put Piper down for her sleep.

  And without fail, at 7:15p.m., Everly came over for a boxing lesson.

  In the orange glow of the sunset, we punched at the bag, releasing the relentless energy swirling inside of us at the solid piece of material, getting it out. Getting everything out.

  An hour later, covered in sweat, we downed cold water while sitting on the drive, sometimes talking, sometimes letting the waves rolling into the sand, and the crickets say everything we needed.

  All too quickly, a week passed, and it was time to visit Giselle again.

  I sat in the car outside the jail, my fingers thrumming a beat on the steering wheel. Damn it. After our last visit, I wasn’t so sure I was ready to go in again.

  And yet, I knew I had to. Piper was her daughter. It actually surprised me that Giselle hadn’t requested—demanded that I bring Piper to her each week. She’d never thanked me either. She’s lucky I’m a decent guy.

  Ha.

  But I knew the importance of family. I’d spent hour after hour with my dad over the last two years. It was what you did when you loved someone.

  I’d also been reading up on shared custody arrangements, and although there was nothing detailing our specific situation—guy-sleeps-with-woman-he-believes-to-be-ex-wife-woman-keeps-baby-secret-until-baby-needs-his-care-while-she’s-in-prison—I believed the regular visits would improve my chance to see my daughter regularly after Giselle was released. Piper had become so vital to my life. I hated to think what it would be like without her in it.

  We sat at the same table as last time, the same one as the time before that. Around us, a man talked to a woman in the standard prison uniform. Two pre-teen kids sat with a man across from another woman, deep in a conversation of low murmurs. I bounced Piper on my knee, humming a nursery rhyme in her ear. She made noises every time I got to the part about the clock striking one and the mouse falling down, and would I ever get sick of it? Would I ever be able to stop that feeling of love in my heart that just built and built and built?

  The door opened, and Giselle walked into the room. She rushed to our table, but Piper was too interested in the song, and didn’t make eye contact.

  Giselle coughed.

  I stopped singing.

  “Look, Piper. It’s your mum.” I pointed to Giselle who stood with her arms out, waiting for Piper to be placed in her embrace. “Say ‘mamma’.”

  “Gooooom.” She burrowed her head into my chest, not turning back.

  “Come on, little one. Time to say hi to your mother.” I lifted her up and placed her in Giselle’s arms.

  Piper’s mouth opened wide.

  She screamed.

  A loud, ugly cry that caused the other people in the room to turn and look, and the security guard to suck in a sharp breath.

  “Hey, hey.” Giselle jigged, pulling Piper close to her chest. “It’s okay. Mamma’s here.”

  But Piper kept crying, jerking her little body back.

  “What have you done to her?” Giselle hissed, and I stood. Maybe Piper was sick. Was Giselle holding her too tight?

  “Nothing! I just—”

  And then it happened.

  Piper stretched her arms out to me.

  “I …” I didn’t know what to say. I opened my arms, and she all but launched into them.

  Giselle grabbed her tight, turning and shuffling away. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. You’re all right.”

  Piper’s screams echoed in my head until they were all I could hear. Every muscle in my body tensed, and I couldn’t stand it, couldn’t bear to hear her like this. “Giselle, let me take her.”

  She flashed a dark look over her shoulder. “Don’t you think you’ve already taken enough?”

  Whoa. Okay then.

  A few minutes later, Piper settled, her screams reduced to whimpers. She swiped at her nose, and Giselle sat, placing her girl on the table so she faced her. “How have you been, beautiful girl? You been good for Cameron?”

  “For Dad,” I blurted out.

  Giselle looked at me, her face a stone mask. “We haven’t talked about her calling you that.”

  “I don’t see what the big deal is.” I frowned. Did everything have to be a challenge? “Look, Giselle, I’ve told you I’m interested in seeing Piper regularly, but I don’t know how many ways there are to say it. I’m not going to take her from you.”

  “Why should I trust you?” She narrowed her eyes at me while simultaneously poking out her tongue in Piper’s direction, making the baby laugh.

  “Because I’ve never lied to you before.” It was the only reason I could think of. “Because you trusted me with her in the first place. Because I know she’s gonna need two parents, not just me.”

  “So what I gave her before wasn’t good enough?”

  “For Christ’s sake, not everything is an attack.” I scrubbed my hand over my jaw. My fists clenched, and damn it, I hated the anger I felt around her. She made me crazy, and not in a good way. I didn’t regret Piper—I couldn’t, not now—but I regretted sleeping with Giselle.

  And I hated myself for ever thinking she was anything like Bella.

  I took a deep breath, counting to ten. I wanted to let loose. I wanted to yell at her, ask how she could claim to love this child so much and yet not get in touch with me sooner. Not ask for financial support. How she could claim to love Piper but have passed her off to her friend who hadn’t given a shit about her daughter’s care, and then given her to me because I had money. She gave her daughter to a total stranger! And now, she didn’t want Piper to have a father who’d care for her. What. The. Fuck?

  But above all, the biggest question, the one that spoke the loudest to me was if she loved her daughter so much, how could she have made choices that jeopardised her daughter’s safety and left her wound up in jail?

  “Giselle, you took a risk and it didn’t pay off. You’re in jail while I’m out there, looking after Piper.” I gestured to the parking lot, the entire world beyond the thick walls. I wanted to be brutal with her. I wanted to shock the truth of the situation into her—

  Everly. What she’d said the other day—her version of honest love.

  Maybe that was what I needed to give Giselle. Maybe I needed to focus more on the emotion she seemed to understand best.

  Love.

  For her daughter, and for herself.

  “I don’t want anything bad to happen to Piper. Ever. And you can’t convince me that her life is better without me in it.” I leaned forward, placing one hand on Piper’s back. She turned and beamed at me, and it melted my heart. “Can you honestly say that you don’t want child support, that you don’t want someone to look after her when you need a break every now and then? That you don’t want someone to help with birthdays, things like swimming and sports, eventually school?” I took a deep breath, and tried that smile that used to get me whatever I wanted with Bella. “Don’t you want someone else to love her? Do you really think saying no to everything I can give you is what’s best for this little girl? Our little girl?”

  We were both quiet for a moment.

  Giselle released a long stream of air between her teeth.

  She shot me a small smile. “That’s not a fair question.”

  I shrugged. “I don’t want to argue. I
just want to show you that I can be the dad Piper deserves. I want to take care of her, and I’ll do whatever she needs—whatever you both need—to make that happen.” I paused when a glint lit her eyes. “Except walk away. There’s no way in hell I’m walking away.”

  Giselle leaned back in her chair, her head turning to the ceiling.

  Piper swivelled on the table and crawled across to me, her palms slapping the metal as she went. I welcomed her with open arms. Exactly how I always hoped to. Exactly how I always would.

  When the hour was up, I said goodbye to Giselle, handing Piper over for one last cuddle. This time, she didn’t cry, though she did squirm a bit, and when she was back in my arms, I admonished myself for the silent relief that passed through me. It wasn’t like Giselle could take her from me here.

  But she might be able to soon.

  My blood chilled. I clutched Piper tighter.

  “I’ll see you next week,” I told Giselle as we waved goodbye.

  “And then there’ll be less than a month to go,” she crowed, and I frowned.

  “I think your math is off, Giselle. That’s only six weeks.”

  “Didn’t I tell you?” She cocked her head to the side, a glint in her eyes. “I’m most likely getting out on probation for good behaviour. Mummy’s coming back sooner than you think.”

  And as I walked out of the jail, I was left with one horrible thought rolling through my mind: how could I get her to stay there longer?

  Chapter 21

  The entire drive back home, I was tense. Every muscle was locked. My jaw had snapped in place. The idea of giving Piper up, of letting her go so soon—it hurt. It hurt more than anything.

  But still, Giselle had seemed a little more relaxed about sharing custody after I’d spoken to her today. Perhaps I’d made her see sense. Perhaps I’d helped her realise that what I could offer Piper was more than just a threat to her love.

  As I pulled the car into the drive, my phone rang, and I quickly switched the car off and brought it to my ear, careful not to wake Piper. “Hello.”

  “Hello, Cameron?”