by Freya Barker
Then she completely blows me away when she initiates a sweet kiss, drops one on Finn’s downy head, and walks out of the room.
I use the opportunity to call Wapi and make sure the kids are taken care of and have lunches for school. Apparently the whole club is in the know already because according to Wapi, Lissie showed up early and is dropping them off at school, along with her Jesse.
Twenty minutes later she’s back, with a brown paper bag and two coffees she puts on the nightstand. Then she walks over and plucks Finn off my lap, carrying him to his crib.
“Let’s eat. I have about ten minutes until my appointment.”
She hands me one of the coffees and pulls some kind of breakfast wrap from the bag, handing it to me.
“What about you?”
“I got a muffin. That’s about all I can handle right now.”
“Nervous?” I ask, already chewing.
“Little.”
We eat in silence, except I think I may have groaned at my first sip of coffee. Sleeping in a recliner is not ideal.
“I should’ve checked on the kids, make sure—”
“Talked to Wapi. Lissie’s got them.”
She smiles at me. “Any other time I would’ve snapped at you for taking over, but I’m thanking you today.”
Despite the persistent ache that returned in my chest after spending twenty minutes reliving yesterday’s hell, I manage a wink back.
“I should come with you,” I change the subject, but Lisa shakes her head as she brushes crumbs off her lap and gets up.
“You need to be here with that precious boy. I’ll come right back after and we’ll make a list of things we’ll need for him.”
She stops in front of me and bends down. I hook my hand behind her neck and give her a hard close-mouthed kiss.
“Thanks, Sugar.”
With Finn sleeping and Lisa at her appointment, I call Ouray.
“Have you heard anything?” he asks.
“Waiting for the doctor, no sign yet of CPS.”
“Yeah, I just talked to Joyce, my contact there. She’s finding out who the caseworker is and will try to get hold of them before they show up over there. She doesn’t think there’ll be a problem, they prefer to place kids with family when possible.”
I have to say, it makes me feel a little better. I’m not ready to give up the one thing still connecting me with my daughter.
“I know it’s still early, but anything on Kelsey?” Even just saying her name is difficult.
“Luna left to meet up with Terry Mullin. The autopsy is scheduled for nine thirty and they want to be present.”
I squeeze my eyes shut to fight off the images of my baby girl lying on that cold slab.
“Okay.”
“Brother, hate to do this to you, but we’ve got to start thinking about a funeral.”
“Her mother was buried in Grand Junction but with Finn here in Durango, I’d like to think she’d want to be close to him.”
“Probably a good call. I can put a call in to Hood, set something up for us to go in this week and get that sorted.”
That isn’t something I ever thought I’d be faced with—planning Kelsey’s funeral—but I have to do right by her.
“That’d be good.”
“I talked to the brothers, spread the word. We’re all here for you.”
Even after only two years with Arrow’s Edge, I know in my bones he’s telling the truth. The brotherhood is strong.
“Appreciated. I’ll call you later.”
I quickly hang up before emotions get the best of me, just as Finn starts fussing in his crib. Needing to feel the connection, I lift him out and settle him against my chest where he immediately calms down.
Lisa
My head is spinning with information when I walk out of radiology.
The cardiologist, Dr. Husse, sent me there for an echocardiogram. Something about assessing the function of my heart. I’ve also been outfitted with a Holter monitor to track heart rhythm over the next couple of days, and the wireless pack is clipped onto my waistband. She warned me there might be more tests. I don’t really care as long as they figure out the problem. I’d rather know what I’m dealing with.
I’ve been gone for a couple of hours when I return to the room, and Brick is not alone. I hesitate in the entrance but Brick sees me and waves me over.
“Perfect timing,” he mumbles in my ear. To the two women on the other side of Finn’s crib he says, “This is Lisa Rawlings.”
Both women introduce themselves. One is the hospital social worker and the other is a CPS caseworker.
They have a lot of questions, a lot of forms for Brick to fill out. At some point, I can sense he’s spent all his ‘polite’ for the day when the CPS lady points out it’s unusual for someone at fifty—which is apparently Brick’s age—to be raising an infant. I can feel him gearing up and quickly put my hand on his arm.
“Plenty of men becoming parents again at a later age,” I tell the woman. “Or women for that matter. I’m forty-six and am raisin’ my two young grandchildren. It’s not like either of us is new at this parenting thing.”
“And how old are the other two children in the house?”
“Ten and six. Boy and girl.”
She has a few more questions, mainly about the house and space for the baby, and I calmly explain we haven’t really had a chance to work out all the logistics, given the circumstances. It seems to satisfy them for now, and the caseworker hands Brick an information sheet and a phone number to call once we’re settled in so she can do a home visit.
He’s still bristling when they’re gone.
“He’s my own goddamn flesh and blood and they’re gonna decide what’s best for him? Fuck that.”
“You could adopt him,” I suggest. “You’re the boy’s only surviving relative. Set those wheels in motion. Get a lawyer.”
He bends down and drops his head in his hands.
“My fuckin’ head’s gonna explode.”
I understand how he feels. I remember being so overwhelmed when Sunny was found dead I didn’t know where to start.
“One thing at a time,” I tell him gently, placing a hand on his back. “Let’s get this baby home first.”
“I believe I can help with that,” the nurse says, walking in with a diaper bag and some paperwork. “The bag is his. EMTs brought it in with him, and I have his discharge right here.”
_______________
“Shit.”
Brick turns around in the front seat of Ouray’s SUV to look at me.
“Forgot to ask how your appointment was this morning.”
I notice Ouray’s head come up and his eyes catch mine in the rearview mirror. I haven’t told him yet, but in my defense, the past day or two have been chaotic to say the least.
“They did some tests and put a Holter monitor on me. I’ve got another appointment on Monday. Hope we’ll know more then.”
“Wanna fill me in?” Ouray asks.
“Doc Weinberg said I had high blood pressure and arrhythmia, and sent me to a cardiologist, who’s tryin’ to find out what the problem is.”
I’m trying to sound casual. There’s enough going on, no one needs something else to worry about.
“Her mother died of a heart attack at thirty-nine,” Brick fills in for me.
So much for downplaying it.
“That’s it. I don’t want you near the clubhouse,” Ouray snaps.
“Actually, Dr. Husse—that’s the cardiologist—told me I should go about my regular day with this thing on.”
He glares at me in the mirror but I lift my chin defiantly. I don’t want to become a burden, especially now. Brick is the one who’ll need the support.
“Fine, but you’ll have help. And while I’m at it, we need to talk about the garage. Shilah seems to be hanging in, but I’m putting Tse in there for the time being.” When it looks like Brick is going to protest, Ouray holds his hand up. “No argument, brother. I’m not
takin’ anything away from you, I’m just making sure things can keep running the way they should and taking some pressure off you in the meantime. Your hands are gonna be full. We’re family, lots of people ready to jump in if need be. For both of ya.”
Finn starts fussing in his car seat, and I use the excuse to lean over him and hide the emotion on my face.
“Clubhouse or cottage?” Ouray asks, when we turn up the drive to the compound.
“Cottage,” Brick answers, but then turns to me for confirmation.
“Agreed.”
The clubhouse can wait another day. We need some time to process.
“Cottage it is.” He drives past the boys’ bunkhouse and pulls up in front of my place. “Some of the women have been busy this morning, pulling together a few things you might need for the little one.”
Brick, who was about to get out of the truck just manages to nod, so I do the talking. I put a hand on Ouray’s shoulder.
“Tell the girls thank you.”
He pats my hand. “Sure thing.”
Bags line the small hallway walking into the house. In the living room a foldable playpen/travel bed is set up.
“Jesus,” Brick mumbles, as he carries the borrowed baby seat over to the couch, setting it down before he rubs his hands over his face.
“They even brought formula and bottles,” I tell him, peeking in the bags. The others hold baby clothes, a monitor, changing pad, baby shampoo, and diapers.
“Where the hell are we gonna leave all that?”
He sits down heavily beside his grandson, a proprietary hand covering the baby’s belly.
“Was thinking about that; my bedroom’s big enough for a crib and it’s quiet up there. I have plenty of room in the walk-in closet for stuff and it won’t take much to clear out a couple’a drawers in my dresser, so we can use that to change him. Or,” I add, wanting to give him another option. “I can clear out Kiara’s room, have her move into my room and you and the baby can have hers.”
“No way. Not putting that girl out of her room. Not gonna happen.”
I walk over and sit on the coffee table in front of him, putting my hands on his knees.
“Go have a shower—think about it—I’ve got your boy. I’m gonna get this stuff sorted and tucked away, and get his bottle ready. Small steps. Besides, if whatever we decide to do doesn’t pan out, we can always change it until we find somethin’ that works.”
“Christ, what a mess,” he mumbles, shaking his head as he looks at my hands.
“Yeah, but we’ll work our way through.”
His head comes up, eyes shimmering silver with unshed tears. His pain raw.
“First time I saw her in eight years and she was cold as ice. Couldn’t even tell her I love her.”
Not knowing what else to do, I climb on his lap and wrap myself around him as best I can.
“She knew, baby. She knew. Or she wouldn’t’a come looking for you.”
_______________
“What’s all this, Nana?”
“Hush, child,” I tell Kiara when she walks in the door. “The baby’s sleeping. You can go peek but don’t wake him up.”
“Who is that?” Ezrah, who walks in right behind her, asks.
“That’s Mr. Brick’s grandbaby. His name is Finn. Finn’s mama died in a car crash, so he’ll be stayin’ with us for now.”
His face is worried when he turns to me.
“She died? She Mr. Brick’s daughter?”
“Yeah.”
“That why Wapi stayed wit’ us last night?” I nod in response. “Mr. Brick sad?”
“Yeah, honey. He’s sleepin’ upstairs—he was up most the night—so keep it down a bit, all right?”
Ezrah walks over to the crib where his sister is already hanging over the side.
“He’s little.”
“I know. You guys hungry? Want a snack before you do your homework?”
Both of them nod, more subdued than they’d normally be. I get them set up at the table with a snack, a drink, and homework. It reminds me, I have to call Lissie. I’m pretty sure it was her who filled my fridge.
It’s not until I’m on the couch feeding Finn, with Kiara tucked to my side; Brick comes down the stairs. My little girl jumps up from the couch and runs to him, wrapping her arms around his legs.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Brick. Are you sad?” She tilts her head back and Brick picks her up.
“Yeah, Princess. I am.” He walks over to the couch with Kiara perched on his hip, doing the chin lift thing with Ezrah, who is watching the older man closely. “Thanks for lettin’ me sleep,” he says with a forced little smile for me as he sits down, my little girl on his lap. Then he turns his attention to the baby. “How is he?”
“He’s a good baby.”
“I was helping Nana change his diaper and he pulled my braid,” Kiara pipes up, startling the little boy.
“Inside voice,” I remind her.
“Oops. But it didn’t hurt,” she finishes telling Brick in a stage whisper. This time his smile seems more genuine.
I remember that too, the guilt every time you felt something other than grief.
“Here, why don’t you two look after this peanut and I’ll finish up dinner?”
Bits of conversation filter through while I throw together a salad and get Ezrah to set the table. But I stop to listen when I hear Kiara ask something.
“Are you gonna stay here too?”
“Would that be okay with you? If I stayed on the couch for a bit?”
“Sure,” my honest-as-the-day-is-long granddaughter replies. “But Nana’s got a real big bed. If you ask her nice, I’m sure she’d let you sleep there.”
My gaze flits to Ezrah, who is also suddenly all ears.
“Thanks, Princess. I’ll start on the couch, but if I don’t like it, I’ll be sure to ask your nana real nice.”
He twists his head and his gray eyes pin me to the spot.
Oh, Lordy.
CHAPTER 7
Brick
I’M STILL AWAKE, the TV on but muted, when I hear Finn upstairs.
It’s my second night on the couch and there hasn’t been a lot of sleeping. Tonight was especially tough, since I had to arrange my daughter’s funeral today.
This morning, Luna stopped by to let me know the autopsy report had shown nothing more than injuries from the impact of the crash. Kelsey hadn’t been under the influence of any illegal substances or alcohol that might have impaired her.
Ouray picked me up this afternoon to talk to the funeral director. I’d missed Lisa by my side but I wouldn’t have trusted anyone else to look after Finn, so she stayed home. I was grateful for Ouray, who took matters in hand, making suggestions and guiding me through it. We decided to hold off the service for five days to give law enforcement some more time to dig into her life. Ouray pointed out she may have friends, a boyfriend; colleagues who might want to pay their respects.
That’s what kept me awake tonight, thinking about the kind of life she led, and the fact I remember the little girl but never got to know the adult she became.
From upstairs, I hear Finn again and I get off the couch, hurrying up the stairs in hopes I’ll get there before he utilizes those fine lungs he turns out to have. I tiptoe into Lisa’s bedroom just as she sits up and startles when she sees me.
“I’ll get him. Go back to sleep.”
“Sure?”
“Yeah. I’ve got him.”
She lies back down and I walk over to his little bed. His eyes are open and his face is already scrunching up. I quickly reach in, pop his soother in his mouth, and lift him out. Then I grab a diaper, baby wipes, and tiptoe out of the room.
Downstairs I heat up some water for his bottle before quickly changing his diaper on the couch.
“That feel better? Yeah, I thought so.”
I lift him up and settle him against my shoulder, my hand covering his little butt. I grab one of the bottles Lisa prepped before she went to bed and plop i
t in the hot water. I’d suggested microwaving it the first night home, but Lisa shot me down. She says it’s safer just to set it in hot water; it heats more evenly that way. Since I can’t even remember if I ever got a bottle ready when Kelsey was a baby, I’m gonna take Lisa’s word for it.
Finn gets restless and his little head is bobbing up and down, his fist shoved in his mouth.
“Patience, buddy. It’s coming.”
It takes him no time at all to finish the bottle, once I sit down with him on the couch. His eyes start fluttering closed when he gets three-quarters through and the nipple slips from his mouth. The love I already feel for this little human is as overwhelming as the loss of his mother is.
It’s easy to drift off with his warm body snuggled against me, but I’m afraid if I fall asleep I might drop him, so I force myself to my feet and head back upstairs to put him to bed.
I glance at the bed, where Lisa’s form is motionless under the covers, her breaths deep and even. The moment I put Finn down in his bed, his face scrunches up and I quickly pop in his pacifier. He sucks a few times and settles right back down. When I turn to head back downstairs, I hear the rustle of covers and Lisa’s soft voice.
“Everything okay?”
“He’s good.”
“Are you sleeping?” she asks, when I make my way to the door.
I stop and turn. Lisa is sitting up in bed, and by the light coming in from the hallway I recognize the concern on her face.
Rather than answer I grunt and watch as she flips back the covers.
“Get in, Brick. You heard Kiara, plenty of room.”
Fuck. Tempting, but I don’t know if it’s wise. I shove a hand in my hair.
“You need to get some rest,” she urges, and before I have a chance to make up my mind, my feet are already moving.
The moment I lie down beside her, she rolls toward me, putting her head on my shoulder and a hand on my chest. My arm automatically curls around her. Her soft body pressed against me, she sighs, and only moments later her breathing evens out with sleep.
I lie looking up at the ceiling, not wanting to miss a second of her heat warming my body and her scent teasing my nose; a dream realized in the middle of my nightmare. Then I close my eyes and allow myself to drift off.
At some point I feel her kiss me and whisper, “Rest, I’ve got this,” against my lips.
