I squeezed her hands. “It’s okay, Mom.” I looked at Bridge. “It is okay, right? Everything got worked out?”
“Oh, it’s fine,” she said. “In fact, it’s more than fine. Jonah found the most spectacular working ranch for sale a few miles south of Bitterroot.”
“Does the family like it?”
“The family loves it,” Bridget admitted warmly. “They’ve already moved the ranch and drove the cattle south.”
Thinking back on Hunt Ranch made me so incredibly sad, but I was happy I was able to provide them the life my father stole.
“Your money helped,” she said. “There’s still a million left,” she said.
“That’s yours, Bridget.”
“What?” she asked, her eyes wide.
“It’s for you and the baby.”
“And what are you going to do?”
“I’m leaving,” I told them, shocking Bridge.
“What? Why?”
“As long as Dad is alive, is around, he will stop at nothing to ruin me. I can’t risk the Hunts. I can’t risk you or Mom.”
“Spencer,” Bridge said softly, “what about Cricket?”
“I’m doing this all for Cricket, Bridge. I did all this for her.”
“She’s not going to stand for this,” she said.
“She’ll have to. It’s to keep her safe, Bridge. Do you promise not to tell her? At least until I’ve left.”
“Yes,” she complied, though she hated to.
We talked about my plan to leave and I agreed to take a few thousand dollars to keep myself afloat for a bit. I would return to Brown and continue going to school there. I would talk to the administration about the rowing scholarship I had and what it meant for me in the long run. I also promised Bridge I would return when the baby was born.
My mom was moving to Montana and planned on living with Bridget until she was done with her education, including college.
I had done everything I could for the family that did all they could for us, and I was more than satisfied.
Now, if I could only muster up the courage to leave Cricket behind.
Early in the morning, I discharged myself, much to Dr. Caldwell’s dismay, but I promised him I would see a nephrologist as soon as I got to Providence and would report back to him. I thanked him and grabbed the bag Bridge hesitantly packed for me.
I kissed my sister and mother goodbye and caught a taxi to the airport.
I was going to keep Cricket Hunt safe if it killed me...or tried to...again.
It had been nine days, seven hours and three, no, four minutes since I’d left Montana and I was in torment. I was getting shit sleep, not just because I was recovering from surgery, but mostly because I kept dreaming of the night I kissed Cricket.
I laid in bed, in my new apartment with bars on the window, with my new furniture I got at the Goodwill. I didn’t buy anything upholstered there though. I drew the line there. Instead, I splurged and bought one sofa at Ikea as well as a mattress from one of those monster warehouse places that also sell gallons of nacho cheese.
But it wasn’t the apartment I had a problem with. It was the fact that my home was two thousand five hundred fifty-six miles away, because my home was Cricket.
My alarm clock started beeping, indicating it was five-thirty in the morning and I did, indeed, have to start my first day of work at the campus coffee shop.
My summer semester wouldn’t start for a few more weeks, but I had to do something to pay bills. I was basically miserable without Cricket, so why not tack on the added bonus of smelling like I’d been marinating in a coffee bean bag for twelve hours a day, right?
You can do it, I told myself. Just take it a day at a time. I sat up. Okay, maybe a minute at a time.
Since I’d gotten back, I’d seen a doctor several times and I was recovering well. He’d given me a clean bill of health to return to work. I called and talked to Bridge every day. She was getting bigger, staying healthy, things were going strong with Jonah, which I was glad to hear. When she tried to talk to me about Cricket, I would stop her before she could continue.
“No sense in torturing myself,” I’d tell her.
I’d also written a very detailed apologetic letter to Peter Knight and his wife for my part in my dad’s scandal. I explained everything to him and his wife but hadn’t gotten a response, not that I expected one. I was just glad I told him the truth. I wasn’t sure if it would help the man, but I hoped it gave him the evidence he needed to prove his innocence to his wife if my dad did the unthinkable.
I stood and took a shower in my three-by-three-foot bathroom, brushed my teeth before dressing in my uniform of jeans and a t-shirt. I grabbed my starched apron and keys and left, locking the door behind me.
I left my truck with my mom and Bridge, but got a place close enough to campus that I could walk without any issues. I passed a guy I remembered from my freshman year and waved. He looked surprised I’d done so but waved back. It made me think of the impression I gave off when I was here as the “other” Spencer.
The little coffee shop had an outside kiosk during the warmer months, so I was assigned to it since it didn’t get quite as busy as the shop inside the campus. I was greeted by a senior named Jason. He showed me the ropes, taught me how to make the more difficult drinks, where the supplies could be found and everything else. I could run the kiosk by myself just with an hour’s worth of training.
After he showed me the entire kiosk and their procedures, he leaned against the counter.
“Is there nothing else to do?” I asked him.
“Nothing, man, just chill and wait for people is all.”
Coming from the grueling day-to-day of the ranch made it feel like I was being lazy just setting back.
“Wait a minute,” he said, snapping his fingers. “I know you.”
“You do?”
“Hell yeah, you’re that rich bastard who takes all the girls.” He narrowed his gaze at me. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“I’m, uh, I’m not rich,” I laughed.
“Bullshit. You’re filthy rich, dude. I saw the cars you drove around here.”
I held up my hands. “I need to clarify. I was just using my dad’s money and he cut me off.”
“Oh, shit! Got in deep with daddy, huh?” he ribbed. “What? He made you slum it with us lowlies to teach you a lesson?”
“Nah,” I said, ignoring his attempt at getting a rise out of me. “It’s a little more complicated.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah,” I told him and relayed everything that had happened to me during the past six months, since we had the time.
When I was done, the guy’s mouth gaped wide open.
“What?” I asked, uncomfortable.
“That’s harsh, dude. What he did to you is messed up.”
“Nah, I helped a lot of people and changed myself in the process.”
“That’s pretty righteous.”
“Thanks.”
When my first shift was over, I yanked off my apron, folded it and stuck it in my back pocket. I cut toward College Hill and stopped in at Louis Restaurant for some dinner. Although I had always loved the place, I found myself wanting the ridiculous food of the ranch. I looked up from my seat and called it what it was. Homesick. I was homesick something awful for Cricket.
I sat back and recalled all the times I made myself memorize her, utterly grateful that I had. Vanilla. Grapefruit. Clever smiles. Ballet walks. Swishing hips. Witty conversation. Humble attitude. Talented. All-around perfect. I sighed, leaving my food as it was and left enough for a generous tip.
I walked home, determined to trudge through it all, determined to give the Hunts a life free of any drama, and that was not going to happen if my dad had anything to say about it.
The night air felt thick. It was starting to get really warm and humid and I was ready for school to start, ready for the distraction. Summer bugs began chirping in the trees on my walk home. I studied the
sidewalk, wishing it was field and snow.
I swung open the iron gate to my complex and let it slam shut behind me. I descended the walkway that led to my door and pulled my keys out of my front pocket. I swung them in my fingers, whistling “Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robots.”
“That’s my jam,” someone beside me said.
I stopped walking, my keys dropping to the sidewalk below me. My heart started racing.
“You like The Flaming Lips?” I asked her, the same question I had that day she delivered the calf.
She sat on the retaining wall in front of my apartment, one knee against her chest, and watched me. She made my blood furiously pump through my veins. I wanted to seize her.
“Why did you go?” she asked.
“I had to.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“My dad won’t stop trying to destroy me, Cricket, and he’ll take down everyone in my path, including your family.”
“You are my family, Spencer.”
My eyes closed at her drugging words.
“Did you mean it?” she asked, holding up my crinkled letter. It looked so worn, like she’d read it over and over.
“Every. Word.”
“Come here,” she said.
I walked toward her.
She had a soft canvas bag beside her. She reached her hand inside and pulled her hand out. Perched on her palm was the sculpture of the three little birds. On a ribbon of metal, it read “Smile with the risin’ sun.”
“Take it.”
I held it in my hand and studied its brilliancy. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
“You’re the sun for me, Cricket.”
“You’re the sun for me, Spencer.”
“I hate life without you, Cricket.”
“I hate life without you, Spencer.”
“I want you so bad. I can taste you already.”
“I’m yours to taste, love.”
“But my dad…”
“You’re dad is not invincible, Spencer. We will cross those bridges when we come to them.”
I studied her face. “You look good.” I swallowed. “Healthy.”
“Caldwell said I took my transplant without one single complication. It was like it was made for me.”
“It was.”
She nodded.
“Cricket?”
“Yes?”
“I’m so in love with you.”
A tear escaped her, cascading slowly down the side of her cheek. I ran the back of my index finger up the trail before I licked the tear.
“I’m so in love with you.”
My hand went to my chest right over my heart and my eyes closed. It beat so wildly. Her words floored me.
“Don’t ever leave me again,” she said quietly.
“I couldn’t if I tried,” I said, setting the sculpture near her hand, purposely grazing her fingertips with mine. She gasped softly.
“I’ve been miserable without you,” she said, another tear falling.
I leaned in and kissed that tear away and her breath hitched.
“I’ve been practically catatonic without you,” I admitted.
That earned me her clever smile and I almost fell backward.
“Then what are you waiting for?” she asked.
“I have no idea,” I breathed, rushing her in that moment.
She wrapped her arms around my neck and I picked her up off the wall. She locked her legs around my waist and I kissed her like our lives depended on it. That same drugging, intoxicating sensation rushed over both of us. The one that told us we were made for one another and that the chemistry between us couldn’t be created with any other human.
Cricket Hunt, part owner of my kidneys, the girl who called me on my crap and the girl I was gonna marry someday. She was the girl that could bowl me over with one smile. She was the girl who consumed my thoughts and my heart.
Cricket Hunt was my fate.
Four years later…
“No, no. Her dress is getting dirty. Just pick her up.”
I picked up the little girl with the halo of bright blonde curls and set her on my hip. I made a goofy face and she laughed.
“You’re so funny, Uncle Spencer!” she giggled, her little hand going to her mouth.
“Your Aunt Cricket doesn’t seem to think so,” I whispered conspiratorially.
Cricket rolled her eyes but fought a smile.
“We better hurry or your mama is going to be so mad!”
Her bright green eyes widened and she nodded.
We entered the double doors and I set Savannah down. Cricket bent down and straightened her skirt for her.
“Is this the flower girl?” a random woman asked.
“Uh, yup,” I answered.
She spoke into a handheld device and soon another woman came bustling forward with a ring of flowers for Savannah’s hair. It was set low on the crown of her head.
“This itches.”
“Leave it on and I’ll let you have a giant piece of cake.”
She settled down until she discovered the bell of her dress and then she twirled around.
“Bribery. I like it,” Cricket commented.
I tapped my temple. “Future reference.”
She winked.
Cricket had grown out her hair and it almost reached the small of her back. She curled it, and all I had wanted to do was run my fingers through it since she’d walked out of our bedroom.
My lids felt heavy and I rushed her side. I kissed her throat and moved up to her ear. “Wait until we get home,” I growled.
She gave me her clever smile. “Why go home when we have a perfectly nice car back at the ranch?”
I stood, slack jawed. “Cricket Blackwell, you saucy minx.”
She winked.
“We need all bridesmaids and groomsmen, please,” the woman with the device shouted.
Cricket shoved pulled my arm to where she stood and I resisted, snatching up my wife by the waist and swinging her around. “Spencer,” she laughed. “You are a troublemaker!”
The woman gave us the stink eye, so I placed Cricket back down. We both snorted into our hands.
“We need the maid of honor and the best man in the back here,” she said and we stepped in the far back of the line.
I took the opportunity to pinch Cricket’s butt. She gasped, inviting everyone to turn around and stare at us. I shrugged my shoulders at them like I had no idea what was going on. They turned back around and she hit my arm. “You’re gonna get us in big trouble,” she giggled.
“I hope so.”
“What a thing to say.”
“Time to get serious, people,” the woman announced, but she looked directly at us, inciting another laugh from us. “In a moment, the bride will come through here. The groom’s up front already. Remember, just like rehearsal! This is go time.”
The door to the cry room opened and out came my sister and she was breathtaking. A lace top and dupioni silk skirt. I know this because she and Cricket would tell me about it, like I gave a crap. I was glad they did though. Looking at her in that moment was one of the proudest of my life.
She strode forward and I stopped her before she met our mother’s side.
She smiled wide. “Bridget, you look stunning.”
“Thank you, brother,” she said, kissing my face.
I hugged my mom. “You too, Mama.”
She palmed our cheeks. “I’m so proud. So very proud of both of you.”
Bridget leaned down and kissed her daughter. “You look very beautiful too, Savannah. Very grown up.”
Savannah beamed and bounced on her heels.
I walked back to the end of the line and stood beside my wife. I tucked her dainty hand in my arm and laid my own on top of it.
The piano started and Savannah bounded forward, radiant and bursting with happiness. She gracefully laid lavender down on the stone floor of the church and made it all the way to the end of the aisle, but when she saw Jonah s
tanding at the front, instead of standing to the side like she was told, she ran up to him and held his hand.
The wedding planner tried to get her to come down, but Jonah stayed her with a hand and kept Savannah with him.
The wedding party descended down the aisle couple by couple until it was our turn. I twisted around and winked at my mom and Bridge.
When it was our turn, I strode down the same aisle I had with Cricket just two years before for our own wedding.
“This bring back memories?” she whispered.
“I believe we did it in the car then too,” I whispered back, making her bite her bottom lip and nod.
I shook my head at her. Cheeky.
We reached the end of the aisle and we were forced to separate, which I hated, but I knew I’d be able to look at her through the whole ceremony, so it was my only consolation. The piano stopped and a string quartet began to play “Jesu, Joy of Man’s Desiring” as my mom and Bridge started to walk the aisle.
As I watched them, I looked upon my wife, down at my incredible Savannah, then Jonah, Ellie, and Emmett, and I couldn’t help but wonder how I deserved such a preposterously happy and beautiful life. They were my family. They were my everything. I looked over at Cricket and the tears slipping down her face told me she felt the same way.
My mom and Bridge had reached the end of the aisle and I watched my mama give my sister to Jonah. I’d never seen either of them look happier than that moment. The moment where they, all three of them, became an official family. Savannah already called him daddy. She had from her three hundred and sixty-third day and he was. He truly was her father.
During the four years since Savannah’s birth, Bridge had finished high school, gone to college, earned a bachelor’s in agriculture, raised Savannah with my mom and Jonah and had carved herself a niche of perfect life, not because life was perfect, but because it was perfect for them.
Cricket and I had moved to New York briefly after graduating college to pursue Cricket’s sculpting career, which she was hugely successful at, but we missed our family too much and decided to trek back to Montana.
Now, she ran a successful gallery of her own work in town and she shipped all over the world. She was well known in art circles and much sought after.
GREED (The Seven Deadly Series) Page 28
