by Shyla Colt
“Ollie?”
“Yeah?”
“Maybe we should hit up the Starbucks on the way out.”
I laugh. “Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. You ready?”
“Yes, get me out of here, or I’ll continue to shop. That kid of yours is too cute for his own good. I want to buy this entire place out for him.”
I can’t help but beam. I don’t know how something so amazing came from my DNA. She caresses my chin. “Look at you, proud Papa.”
“I really lucked out. Rolly is an amazing kid.”
“You and Allie are doing an excellent job with him.”
“We’re trying.” I steer the cart out of the aisle and toward the check-out counter. T minus five hours to the party and counting.
“I LIKE YOU WITH HER.”
I glance over at Liv and grin. “Oh snap. Are you giving her the Livy seal of approval?” I ask as I pull the dishes out of the fridge. The kids have been running around the backyard playing monster games Quinn concocted, and I know they’re going to be ravenous soon. I smile as I recall the look of shock and awe on Rolly’s face as he entered the home and everyone yelled surprise.
The party went off without a hitch. I could see the struggle Allie went through, giving over control, but she’s getting it that Quinn is here to stay. That’s really all I can ask for.
Liv nods her head. “The two of you work well together. I can see she brings out the best in you and vice versa.”
Leaning down, I give her a light squeeze around her expanding middle. “That means a lot coming from you.”
“Only speaking the truth. Is there anything I can help with? I came in here to grab a bottle of water, but I can lend a hand.”
“No. I think Houston would kill me if he thought I was putting you to work.”
She harrumphs. “I’m pregnant, not terminal.” The fire in her brown eyes makes me laugh.
“Whoa, tiger, don’t shoot the messenger. I’m trying to stay in good standing with my boss.”
She scowls. “You two always side with one another.”
“Not always.” I grab the plate of tomatoes that looks like Elmo. “Why don’t you get the veggie tray and set it out on the table?” I ask, handing her a peace offering.
“I can do that.” She flashes me a smile and walks toward the backyard.
A moment later, Rolly runs in.
“Hey, little dude, you having fun?”
“Yes, but I have to potty now,” he says as he flies by me toward the bathroom.
I chuckle as I start to bring out the platters.
“Lunch, you guys. Time to get your hands washed. I have a stool in front of the kitchen sink and some hand soap out,” I call as cheers go up.
Quinn looks at me. Flushed and breathing hard, she’s more beautiful than ever. I want to get down on a knee and ask her to spend the rest of her life with me, but I know it’d be jumping the gun. She’s cautious. I respect it after the mess she’d been in with her previous fiancé. It’s not the right time, but one day I know it will be.
“This looks amazing, bro. Are you holding out on me at the garage? Maybe we should put you on with painting the rides,” Houston says.
“No, this was all Quinn. I’m good where I’m at, believe me,” I reply, shuddering at the thought of being forced to be creative.
My father laughs. “His artistic endeavors as a child were always quite unique.”
“That’s dad-speak for saying they sucked,” I mumble.
“No, you were the child who had green skies and yellow grass. It always stood out because you were so different from your brothers.”
“Always marched to the beat of a different drummer,” I remark with a shrug.
“Well, I definitely know where Rolly gets it from,” Allie says.
I laugh. “I don’t know. What do you think, Molly?” I ask, pulling her mother into the conversation.
“I’d say he gets a double dose,” Molly replies.
Her diplomatic answer makes me laugh. She’s good at making peace. I think it’s a by-product of having four daughters so close in age.
“Here’s the birthday boy,” I call as Rolly returns and hugs me around my legs. “You ready to eat, buddy?”
He nods his head and rubs his stomach. “I’m starving.”
Quinn comes up beside me and kisses my cheek. “Awesome party, Ollie.”
“Thanks to you,” I say as I help Rolly fill his plate.
“Hey, this was a team effort. I just helped with the creative input. You put in the manual labor.”
“Look at you nicefying that slave labor you had me putting in.”
“You’re such a baby.” She pinches my side, and I jump.
“So mean,” I whisper.
She giggles. “I’ll make it up to you tonight.”
My cock swells, and I clear my throat and think about cuddly puppies and cold water.
I take a seat beside my mom.
“She’s a lovely girl, Ollie.”
“Yes, she is,” I reply, watching her as she talks with Liv while Rolly eats with his friend at the kid’s table.
“I’m glad you found her. Is it serious?”
“Yeah, Ma. I think she’s the one.”
My mother’s eyes twinkle. “I had a feeling she was very special to you. How are things with your father? You seem at ease with him.”
“I’m getting there. We had some long overdue talks and ... I’m trying.”
She pats my arm. “It’s all anyone could ask, and more than I dared hope for. When you were in the hospital ... it opened my eyes to a lot of things. When I prayed, I promised the Lord I’d make things right.”
“Mom, you never did anything wrong.”
“I could’ve handled things better over the years. I own my part in the estrangement and my self-imposed isolation. You gave me the push I needed to get back onto the dating scene, and it opened up my world. We can’t control what people do, but we can control our response. I think I forgot that somewhere along the way.”
“And now you remember?” I ask, genuinely interested in her response. It’s not every day I have such a frank conversation with my mother. She tends to play her cards close to her chest.
“Yes.”
“I’m glad you’re happier and going out, Mom. You deserve it.”
Understanding flows between us and we return to our food. It’s the best family outing I’ve had in a long time. All the people I care most about are gathered here to celebrate my boy’s birthday. It doesn’t get much better than this.
A few hours later, I sink down on the side of Rolly’s bed, exhausted. The house is clean, and my little dude is fighting sleep in his brand new monster pajamas. Freshly bathed, he smells like bubble gum and baby lotion. A weird combination I’m familiar with thanks to his obsession with a particular brand of bubble bath. Tucking the cover around his body, I lean down to kiss his forehead.
“Did you have a good birthday party, buddy?”
“Yeah, it was so much fun. All the monsters and everybody came.” He gives me a tired smile and all the work poured into the short span of time is worth it.
“I’m glad. You know, Quinny went all out for you.”
“I know. I love her, Dad. Is she gonna be my second mommy?”
“What?”
“Well at school, my friend Kevin has two mommies and two daddies ’cause his parents got a davorx. Is that going to happen?”
I roll the words over in my head before I speak. “It’s di-vorce. Would that be okay with you?”
“Yes, I love her. She’s so funny, and she plays games wif me and teaches me lots of cool stuff.”
“I’ll let you in on a secret, buddy. I think one day she will be your second mommy. But we need to keep that between us for now, okay?”
He yawns. “Okay, Daddy.”
“All right, to bed with you now.”
“Night, Daddy. I love you.”
“I love you, too.” I brush the hair back from
his forehead and stand, quietly slipping out of the room as he drifts off.
“Is he out?” Quinn asks as I walk into out bedroom.
“Almost. How many stories did he con you into?”
She laughs. “I did three. It’s his birthday. He deserved extras.”
“Sucker.”
“Shut up. You know how adorable the kid is, you helped make him.”
“I did.” I hop onto the bed beside her. “He asked me something about you tonight,” I begin, testing the water.
“What?”
“If you were going to be his second mommy.”
She gasps. “W-what did you say?”
“You first. Tell me what you think about that.”
“Ollie, I’d be honored. I love him like he’s my own.”
“And what about his dad?”
“I love him a lot, too ... and I think maybe one day we’ll be sharing a last name.”
Leaning down, I take her lips, silently promising her we’ll get there. She moans as we deepen the kiss, and I bury my fingers in her thick curls. I slant my head, deepening my access to her sweetness. When we break apart, I roll onto my back beside her, completely spent. The lack of sleep and effort to keep up with a half dozen little people is catching up to me.
“Bedtime?” I ask.
“God, yes. How they have so much energy I’ll never know,” she says.
“Because we do all the worrying for them. Nothing exhausts you quicker than that.”
“Truth. In the words of Jack Black. The Legend of the rent is way hardcore.”
I snicker. “School of Rock?”
“Of course, it’s a classic.”
QUINN
A series of loud cracks jerk me from my sleep. I blink, trying to focus. My heart thumps in my chest. Sitting up, I look around.
“What’s happening?” I croak.
“I don’t—”
Something whizzes by. Cracks fill the air again. The lamp beside the bed shatters.
“Fuck, someone’s shooting.”
Ollie shoves me to the floor. The breath is knocked from my lungs. I struggle to breathe.
“Rolly.” He’s on his feet and running. The shots grow closer. I low crawl from the bedroom and into the hallway. Once there I scramble on my hands and knees to the bedroom. In the doorway I cry out as fire explodes in my side. I peer down to find my shirt blossoming with a red stain.
“Quinn.”
I glance over to the side of the bed where Ollie has his arms wrapped around Rolly.
“I’m fine,” “I whisper, applying pressure to the flesh wound. I’ve been nicked, but my main concern is Rolly.
The tinkle of breaking glass thrusts me into a state of panic. They’re moving closer.
“Get in the closet,” Ollie says. We run for the closed-off space as bullets continue to whizz by.
I fall back on my butt, and he shoves Rolly in my arms and wraps his body around us both. There’s nothing to do but wait. The police must have been called by now. This neighborhood is quiet, and the sense of community is tightknit. I rock back and forth as the shots continue, hissing when another streak of fire hits me from the back. My eyes water and Rolly cries out in pain. The shots are so close together it sounds like thunder. Debris hits the ground, and the smell of smoke fills my nostrils. Suddenly, everything stops. The silence is more frightening than the chaos. Tires squeal out. Stickiness coats my body.
“Quinn,” Ollie barks.
I blink up at him, slightly confused.
“Oh my God, you’re bleeding. Rolly?”
He pushes away from me, and I slump against the wall.
“Rolly.” The strangled scream rips my heart out. I glance down at the child. He’s too still, and his breathing is shallow. His lips are turning blue.
“Rolly,” I rasp.
Ollie flips him onto his back and pats his face. “Hey. Time to wake up, little dude.” His chest isn’t moving. My lower lip trembles. I begin to wonder if the blood on my shirt is mine. He rips the top up and reveals the bullet wound, bubbling blood.
“What do I do, Quinn? Please, God, help me.”
“Apply pressure.” I pray I’m telling him the right thing as the wail of the sirens grows closer.
Ignoring the pain, I kneel beside Rolly and hold his small hand. I close my eyes. Please, God, don’t take him. He has barely had time to live.
“You told me this would happen. God. Why didn’t I listen? You were right, and now all of this is my fault.” His voice shakes as he rocks back and forth, clutching Rolly’s limp frame in his arms. Tears obscure my vision, and I struggle to remain upright and alert. My tongue is thick, my mouth is dry, and I’m unable to give words of comfort. I wobble as the world spins around me.
“Quinn?”
I slump back against the wall.
“Dizzy.” I lick my lips. My lids grow heavy.
“No. Don’t you pass out on me.”
I blink and fight against the blackness.
“Fuck.”
The splintering of the door is the last thing I hear before I slip into the blackness.
I WAKE BIT BY BIT, registering a steady beep and a hum. I pry my heavy lids open, squinting as a bright light pierces my eyes like razors, and wince.
“She’s awake.”
A muffled voice that sounds suspiciously like my mother’s reaches me.
“Mom?”
“Shh, just relax. You’ve been through a lot.”
I gasp as my memory reboots. “Rolly. Ollie.” I try to sit up and cry out as pain explodes in my body.
“Easy, sugarplum, your body’s been through a traumatic event.”
“Are they okay?”
The pregnant pause fills my belly with dread.
I blink, trying to orient myself. “Mom,” I say sternly.
“Rolly ... died on the way to the hospital.” My father’s voice is so soft I almost don’t hear him.
“No. No. No,” I scream.
“You have to calm down, baby.” My mom’s eyes fill with tears.
“I want Ollie. I need to see him.”
A nurse runs in. “You have to calm down, Ms. Fleming.”
“Where is he?” I yell as my emotions swirl together. “Did they come back to finish the job? How’s he handling all of this? I should be with him.” My voice crackles like cellophane as I continue to sob.
“I’m going to have to sedate you if you don’t stop.”
“He’s grieving right now,” my father says, grasping my hand.
“I should be there.” A wave of lethargy begins to sweep over me. I glance over at the nurse and find she’s added something to my I.V.
“The best thing for you right now is rest,” the nurse says.
Tears roll down my face as I slump down onto my pillow.
THE FEEL OF A GENTLE hand in my hair wakes me. I blink and find Ollie beside my bed, as pale as a ghost, and haggard. Dark circles stand out under his eyes, and his beard is scraggly and unkempt. Our gazes meet. The pain filling his blue depths slice me open and let me bleed out. I lick my lips and clear my throat.
“I had to see you and make sure you were okay with my own eyes. To touch you.”
Emotions clog my throat. I don’t know how to respond.
“You almost saved him. The bullet that hit you was slowed down, but the full metal jacket was too much for his body to handle.” The tears well up in my eyes. “You’re safe. I made sure of that. There are detectives outside your room. I told them you were going to testify. It’s the only way I could make sure you were safe. Not that it matters anymore. They’ve taken everything from me.” He fists my hair.
“Not me,” I whisper.
“The only thing you get when you’re with me is hurt. I can’t have that on my conscience.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m saying good-bye, sassy. I’ll always love you. It’s why I—”
“Bullshit.”
He blinks. I see him snap out o
f his stupor.
“What?”
“You’re shocked, hurting, and not thinking straight. I’ve always called you on your bullshit.”
His nostrils flare and I know I’ve reached him, even if it’s in anger.
“I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“When have I ever asked you to do that?”
“My fuck up got Roland killed. I can’t live through that with you, too. I can’t.” His voice raises, and I jerk. The broken tone brings me to tears.
I grip his hand with mine. “We said we were in this together. I’m going to hold you to that.”
“I hear you, but right now ...” Bending, he kisses my hand. “I’m in a dark place, sassy. I’m not so far gone I can’t see it, but I sure as hell can’t do anything but focus on breathing.” He breathes heavily as if it took a great effort for him to admit.
Maybe it did.
“You’re not alone in this. I’m here.”
He cups the side of my face. “Exactly. I can’t stay in the house. There’s a lot of work that needs to be done, and I just ...” He shudders.
“Where are you?”
“In a hotel. It’s probably safer.”
“Are the cops looking after you?”
He shakes his head and my concern increases.
“Why do I have one if you don’t?”
“You’re in a public place.”
He glances away, and I can’t help but feel like he’s lying. I want to call him on it, but my energy is waning.
“You should rest.”
“Where are you going?” I ask, hating the need so audible in my voice.
“I have arrangements to make.”
I close my eyes. He’s talking about Rolly’s funeral.
“Is there ... Can I help?”
He shakes his head. “It’s best we keep you and Allie apart. When you get out, we’ll do something together.”
I glance down at the sheet feeling rejected. In the span of a heartbeat, everything changed. The future’s uncertain, and so is my place in his life.
He bends down and brushes our lips together in a sweet kiss tainted by sadness and what feels too much like good-bye.
