by Sarah Osborn
“So why did he say you did? What did you say to him?”
“I didn't say anything. I don't know why he said that.”
“Do I look stupid, Emma?” He closed the distance between them. “Your little faggot friend was prepared to go toe to toe with me over this. He didn't pull this idea out of his ass.”
“I don't hate the club.” She needed to feel his arms around her. “But I'm scared it will tear us apart.”
“Felix seems to think there'll come a time when I'm gonna have to choose. Is he right, baby girl?”
“I don't know.” She knew she had to be honest with him. “I don't think I could be like Beth. I know that's what an old lady should do. Stand by her man, no matter what. But she told me what happened to Amy. If I thought Lottie was at risk, I couldn't stay.”
“If I did anything to put her at risk, I wouldn't want you to.” He ran his thumb along the scar on her cheek. “Why does Felix think you're all bent outta shape? I thought things were good.”
“They are.” She closed her eyes and rested her forehead against his chest. “But I know something is eating at you. And you're not talking, so all I can do is imagine the worst.”
With his hands on her shoulders, he pushed her away from him, forcing her to look into his eyes. “Sit.” Obediently, she sat. “I ain't talking cuz there really ain't much to tell. But yeah, there could be some shit going down – not here, it won't touch you or Lottie – it could mean I need to hit the road again for a while.” He shrugged. “Or it could be that I'm imagining the worst as well, and Bay View can manage its own shit. Right now, Emma, I don't know.” He took her hand. “You an' Lottie are the most important things in my life, but I am the club. I'm a Freak, baby girl. Till the day they put me in the ground.”
“I know. And Felix was wrong. I would never ask you to choose.” Emma forced herself to smile. She'd never make him make that call, because, deep down, she knew he wouldn't choose her.
“I don't deserve you, Emma.” He squeezed her hand and stood. “I reckon she's gonna keep yelling. I'll go get her.”
“Deke?”
“Yeah?”
“We are okay, aren't we?”
“Yeah. Rock solid, baby girl.”
~ oOo ~
Lottie had worked herself up into a frenzy, and it would be a while before she settled down. Deke lifted her from her crib and held her against his chest. “Shhh, baby. I got ya.” He closed his eyes, then opened them as, uninvited, the image of Tiny's kid in that hospital bed flashed into his brain. How many innocents had been hurt or killed because of the club? How many marriages had collapsed? How many kids were growing up not knowing their fathers? He'd fight, tooth and nail, to keep his family together, but if he was honest with himself, he knew the odds of him succeeding were stacked against him.
TWELVE
“Leave it alone, it’s mine. Dad, tell him to stop touching my stuff.”
Joe sighed and looked up from his paper. “Luke, leave your sister’s stuff alone.”
“Ain’t doing nuffin’” His son stuck out his bottom lip and glared at his sister, who carried on drawing, a smirk on her face. “S’not fair.” Indignantly he began kicking the table leg.
“Quit it.” Abi scowled. “You’re making the table wobble.”
“Won't.” Luke kicked it again, harder this time.
“Quit it.”
“Make me!” He ducked as his sister swung her fist. “Dad. Abi hit me.”
“Jesus. Would it kill you to be in the same room without fighting, just for once in your lives?” Throwing his paper onto the floor, Joe stood and, leaving the relative sanctuary of the armchair in the corner of the kitchen, marched over to the table. “Both of you can go to your rooms until you decide to be civil to each other.”
“But Daaad. He started it.”
“Don’t give a shit who started it. I’m finishing it. Rooms. Now!”
“But.”
“Now, Abs. And you, Luke.”
Knowing that there was no point in arguing with their father, still bickering, they headed towards the stairs. Joe listened with a rueful grin as they blamed each other for their present predicament, then sat back down to the sports page.
Making the transition from enforcer and Sergeant At Arms to husband and father wasn’t always easy. Usually he managed to leave his patch at the front door when he came home. Sometimes, like now, with all the shit that was going down in Bay View, it was hard to switch off. If Beth had been home, he would have hit the road for a few hours, just to get his head straight. But she had stuff to do, leaving him alone with four kids, a thumping headache and so much crap running through his head he could hardly think straight.
“Daddy.”
“Hey, little one.” He looked over to where he’d left Imogene and Alice, asleep in their stroller. “You wanna cuddle with Daddy, huh?”
As soon as he got to his feet, Imogene stretched out her arms. “Daddy.”
“I gotcha, baby. You hungry? You slept through dinner.” With her balanced on his hip, he opened the fridge and began hunting through the contents, pulling out a bowl of ravioli. “You want some pasta?”
“Uh uh.” She shook her head and pointed to the yogurt. “Gurt.”
“I think Mom would prefer you had the pasta, Imi.”
“Gurt.” She screwed up her face. Shit, she was going to start yelling.
“Yogurt it is, then.” Joe was in no mood for tantrums right now. He’d rather deal with a pissed old lady than a screaming toddler.
As he walked toward the highchair, she stiffened. “Nooooo.” This had been an ongoing battle for a while. She wanted to sit at the table. Beth was okay with that. She was too little, really, but she was growing up fast, and unlike her, still sleeping, twin who was happy to be the baby of the family, Imi wanted to be like her big brother and sister. Joe, however, much preferred her restrained in the highchair. It was less messy.
“You are going in the highchair, Imogene.” Even using his best enforcer voice had no impact on his daughter. She took a deep breath, and he quickly turned and sat her in the chair at the table. “Okay, you can sit at the table, but I have the spoon. Got it?”
She smirked. She actually fucking smirked. “Spoon, Daddy.”
“Oh no. I ain’t cleaning up after you again.”
“SPOON, DADDY.”
Sighing, he gabbed a second spoon and handed it to her. She dropped it on the floor and pointed to the one in his hand. “Dat spoon.”
“Nope, ain’t happening.” Sitting next to her, he pulled the top off the pot. “You wanna feed yourself, you sit in the highchair.” She scowled and made a grab for it. Joe was quick, but not quick enough, and she managed to get a handful of yogurt, which she immediately began to smear all over the table top. “You quit that, right now, Imogene Taylor.” He looked around desperately for a cloth, as she transferred the rest into her hair. “Oh Jesus. Really?”
“Sticky.” She grinned and licked her fingers.
“When ain’t you sticky?” He managed to feed her the rest of the yogurt without incident, and was about to call it a win, when…
“Potty.”
“Right.” He stood and lifted her from the chair and sighed. “You’re supposed to tell me you need the potty before you pee.” Setting her down on the floor, he followed her to the bathroom. “Pretty sure you don’t need the potty now, sweetheart. How about I give you a bath and wash that shi… yogurt outta your hair.” He started to fill the tub, chuckling as he watched her struggling to pull her dress over her head. “You want help with that, baby?”
“Mmph, noooo. Imi do it.”
“Fine, miss independent.” He watched as she triumphantly pulled off her dress, then lifted her and sat her in the tub.
As soon as he was satisfied she was clean, he lifted her out and, wrapping her in a towel, carried her to her room. “Okay, let’s get you into your PJs then we can watch a movie till mommy gets home.”
“Li'l Pony, pleeeease.”
“Oh no, sweetheart. Daddy doesn’t watch My Little Pony.” He grinned as she screwed up her face. “An’ yelling ain’t gonna help.”
“Muppets?”
“Yep, I’m good with Muppets.”
She grinned and kissed his cheek. “Silly daddy.”
As they settled on the sofa, his daughter snuggled on his lap, Joe felt his eyes start to close. It seemed like forever since he last slept.
The door opened, and he looked over to where his oldest daughter and son were standing. “S’up kids?”
“We’re sorry, Dad. Can we watch the movie with you?”
“Sure. C’mere.” He shuffled along the sofa to accommodate them. They were going to have to get a bigger sofa. Hell, they needed a bigger house. Space was tight with four little ones, and they weren't going to stay little for long. He had no idea how they were all going to fit in.
If he was honest, he hadn’t wanted any more kids after Luke was born. Their family was big enough, and money was tight, but Beth had been adamant. She'd wanted more.
He got it, he really did. She needed to fill the house with kids, his brothers. Anything, in fact, to hide that huge elephant in the room. Losing Amy or, more to the point, how he'd behaved after they lost her, had created a rift in their relationship that could never fully heal. Thing weren’t bad between them and their love for one another was a strong as ever, but he had shaken her faith in him, and they both knew, deep down, that even if they had a dozen kids, nothing would fill that hole that his kid had left.
Abigail leaned against his arm, and he kissed the top of her head and smiled; she’d been using her mom’s shampoo again. When Amy died, he’d wanted to die with her, but this little girl, who was the image of her mother, had pulled him back from the abyss and restored his humanity.
It was these kids that bridged the gap between him and Beth.
He closed his eyes. She was smart, his old lady. She knew how much he needed them. She knew that without his family, he was nothing.
THIRTEEN
Beth had felt a little guilty leaving Joe alone with the kids – he'd cope, of course, but all week he worked hard in the garage, and there seemed to be some internal stuff going on with the club that was getting to him. She'd needed this, though. Just a few hours away. To put on makeup and spend some time not being 'Mom' or Tiny's old lady. To just be Beth.
She'd wandered around the stores in Fillmore for a while and met up with an old school friend for coffee. But now duty called, and so, with a degree of reluctance, she climbed into her car and drove towards Sofia's little house.
She loved her mother-in-law – she'd been more of a mother to her than her own ever could be – but seeing her so frail broke her heart. She knew she should really be in a home and that even with someone coming in twice daily to help her out, she couldn't really cope. But Joe's mom was tough, and it was easy to see where her son had gotten his stubborn streak from. She was determined to die in the house she'd lived in for more than fifty years, and no one could change her mind.
“Beth! Come on in.” Beth was sure that it was pure orneriness that kept Sophia mobile. She was still refusing to use the walker they'd bought her because, according to her, it made her look old. “Has Joe got the kids?”
“Yeah. I wanted to do some shopping, and, trust me, that's no fun with four kids.” She helped Sofia back into the armchair and grinned. “I'm sure he can manage for a few hours.”
“I'm sure he can.” Sophia's laugh was a little wheezy. “Not so sure you won't find the kids locked in the garage, though.”
“Imi, maybe. Although that one has him wrapped tight around her little finger.” Beth smiled and rummaged around in her bag. “I got some photos framed for you. And Abi made cupcakes. They taste much better than they look.”
“Thank you. Abi's a good girl. She reminds me so much of you.” There was that wheeze again. “There's coffee in the pot, why don't you get us both a cup and bring some plates. We'll see whether she's inherited my cake-making skills.”
“Sophia, have you seen a doctor?” She barely eaten half a cake when she'd been overtaken by a coughing fit.
“Darling. I practically live there. I'm on a first-name basis with all the nurses and reception staff.” She shook her head. “I'm okay, Beth.”
“Would you tell me if you weren't?”
“Nope.”
Beth rolled her eyes and decided to change the subject. “It's Abi's birthday next week. I was thinking, you should come and spend the day with us. You still haven't seen our new house.”
“That would be lovely, dear.” Even as she said it, Beth knew Sophia would find an excuse to call and cancel. Along with the osteoporosis that had dogged her for years, there had been a series of ailments – chest infections, high blood pressure, dizzy spells – that seemed to be pretty constant now. Sophia was fading fast, although Beth was sure she wouldn't go down without a fight. “I'd love to see the kids again. How's little Alice?”
“She's doing really well. She can walk if someone holds her hand, and she's picking up sign really fast.”
“And you?”
“Me? I'm fine, Sophia.”
“Good to hear.” She didn't look convinced. “Just make sure that son of mine doesn't pile all his crap on you.” Her smile was a little sad. “He doesn't deal anywhere near as well as he thinks he does. He's going to need your strength when I...”
“If you're going to start getting maudlin again, I'm going home. You've got years ahead of you.”
“Now, we both know that isn't true, girl. And when the time comes, Joe is going to try to shut down his emotions, and we both know what happens when he does that. Just don't let him break you, is all I'm saying.”
~ oOo ~
The sign above the door of Howard General Stores in Bay View proudly proclaimed that it was established in 1921 and Beth strongly suspected that some of the stock had been on the shelves since then. It did, however, have a small selection of wine, and sold chocolate. And after spending the afternoon with Sophia, she was in desperate need of both.
“That brood of yours driving you to drink, sweetheart?”
“Gloria.” Beth forced herself to smile. “No, not really. They've been with Joe while I spent the day in Fillmore.”
“Maybe you should be buying booze for him, then.”
There was something 'off' about Gloria. Beth couldn't, at first, pin it down. She was holding herself stiffly – as if something was hurting her – and the usual tight, low-cut top that she normally wore had been replaced with a baggy sweatshirt. Even the cocky smirk seemed forced. As she reached out to grab a bottle, her sleeve rolled back, exposing a large bruise, confirming Beth's suspicions. She'd heard of Vince's reputation, and always made an effort to stay out of his way as much as possible.
She knew better than to say anything, though. Gloria chose to stay with the Bay View President. Maybe it was fear, or she considered the prestige of being the President's old lady worth the odd beating; whatever the reason, Beth knew no good would come of asking her if she was okay.
Beth had always considered it to be a deal breaker, but the fact was, Joe had hit her – it was only once, and it was at a time when he was teetering on the edge of a breakdown – and she'd packed her bags and left, fully intending never to return. But she had, because she'd known that she still loved him and that she would never love anyone else.
She picked out of a bottle of Merlot. “I hear you're running a stall at the town fair at the end of the month. I'm kind of tied up with the kids, but I can bake some cakes.”
“You will be there, though? It's good for the locals to see the club in a positive light.”
“If I can, I'll come for a while. Abi is such a girly girl and loves the craft stalls.”
“Good.” She winced as she turned, and Beth bit her tongue. She had no love for the woman standing next to her, but she was hurt, and Beth's instinct was to offer her help. “I'll see you there.”
“Yeah. Take
care, Gloria.”
~ oOo ~
Joe was sitting on the living room floor with Alice between his legs, helping Luke build a spaceship from LEGOs. Despite his reputation among his brothers, Beth knew he had endless patience when it came to his kids. He would sit for hours, playing stupid games, or reading and drawing with them. Tiny Taylor was a cold-blooded killer, but there was no sign of that when he was with his kids. To them he was the most warm-hearted, loving father a kid could ever wish for.
“Hey.” He looked up and grinned as she walked in. “You have a good day?”
“Yeah, thanks for watching the kids.”
“They're my responsibility too, Beth. An' I like spending time with them.”
“I know.” She crouched down, signed hi to Alice, then picked up some stray bricks and dropped them into the bucket. “Where are Abs and Imi?”
“Imi crashed about half an hour ago, so I put her to bed, and Abi is in her room, doing girl shi...stuff.”
“Does it involve my makeup?”
“It didn't last time I checked.”
Luke frowned and hunted around for a blue brick. “We made chili, didn't we, Dad? We saved you some.”
“Wow. Thanks, I'll have some in a while.”
“Dad let me chop onions with a sharp knife. He said I had to be real careful cuz if I cut my finger off you would kick his ass. Would really you kick his ass, Mom? Dad's kinda tough, you know.”
“Oh, yes, Lukey. I kick his ass all the time. Your dad's a pussy cat.”
~ oOo ~
“I ran into Gloria at the store earlier.” The kids were finally in bed, and they were cuddled on the sofa, watching some dumb action movie.
“She okay?”
“I don't think so. I think Vince has been beating on her.”
“Figures. He lost a vote in church yesterday. He was pissed. Reckon his ol' lady was on the receiving end of his temper.”
“Can't you do something?”
“Not really. What goes on between a brother an' his ol' lady is his business. You know that.”
“Yeah. Doesn't make it right, though.”
