by Freya Barker
“I uhh ... I’ve got something to do upstairs,” I mumble as I walk out the door, nobody stopping me.
Tears are burning my eyes, but I’m willing them not to fall. Not yet. Not until I’m alone and well away from the pieces of my heart. I have to do this.
People always believe that where there is smoke there is fire, and Gunnar stands to lose everything if I stay here. His ex would unearth everything about me in an attempt to keep him from getting full custody. She already managed to dig up my history but as soon as she finds out about the attack, which was kept out of the press, she will take it and run, straight to the judge. The pub, Viv, Dino, and everyone else working here could lose their jobs. Gunnar could lose something that has been in his family for generations. There would always be part of him associating that with me. I can’t do that to him.
And the kids. My God, the kids. I can’t even go there right now. I’ll pack up and head to Pam’s; stay there until I can figure out something.
I’m mindlessly packing the few clothes I’ve accumulated and stuff them in my old backpack. Whatever doesn’t fit I stick into some plastic grocery bags from under the kitchen counter. My breath halts when I hear footsteps coming up the stairs and I freeze when they stop right behind me in the bedroom.
“Ah good. You’re packing,” I hear behind me and the tears I’ve been fighting back start rolling down my face unchecked.
“I just need to grab my stuff from the bathroom and I’ll be out of your hair.”
He doesn’t answer and I grab another bag to pack my toiletries. I’m emptying out the drawers of the vanity and with an odd detachment, wonder how I could’ve collected so much crap in such a short time.
“Wait.” I hear him say from the doorway. “Did you say out of my hair? What the fuck, Syd? I thought you were packing up your stuff to bring home with us?”
I lift my head and look in the mirror to find his eyes in the reflection. They’re dark with confusion, hurt, and anger, and I turn to face him.
“I’m so sorry. I can’t stay here. My God, Gunnar, it’s never-ending; the misfortune I seem to pile on your doorstep. Can’t you see? You’re angry already. You couldn’t even look me in the eyes downstairs. What would happen if —“
“Stop!” He cuts me off, stepping right up to me. “I will not allow you to run. You belong with us and you fucking know it! Syd...Bird...” he softens his tone and reaches out to wipe at the tears on my face. “You have to stop taking responsibility for all the negative that happens around you. It’s. Not. Yours. None of it is.” He finishes gently, wrapping his arms around me and holding on tight.
“But you were so angry,“ I try.
“I was angry. Jesus, Syd. The guy was threatening to bring down my future. I was furious. I am furious, but not at you. Never at you.” He kisses my hair and I make one last attempt.
“Don’t you see? I am a threat. Even just my presence here is a threat to the pub and everyone’s future here.”
With his hands on either side of my face, he lifts it up to his.
“No, little Bird. You’re the one who doesn’t see.” He plants a small kiss on my lips and leaves them there when he says, “You are my future.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Syd
It’s June.
The vacationers are starting to crowd Portland and The Skipper’s business has been increasing. We had a slight slump after being forced to close down last weekend, but most of the regulars never missed a beat and with new faces roaming the wharf, business is getting even better.
Gunnar has called in his seasonal workers for the Thursday and weekend nights when the place is bustling. With the weather consistently nice, we’re working to open the patio up this weekend.
Funny, how quickly I’ve started thinking of he and I as a we, a unit. I feel at home in his world—now my world too—and look forward to every day. Guilt still plagues me, especially when I find myself smiling a lot, but my sessions with Pam help me put things into perspective. She’s been a godsend, and so has Viv, who’s been a better friend than I have ever known.
Last week when Gunnar stopped me from running was the last time I’ve wanted to. After he took me home with all my belongings, I settled in as quietly as I could, not wanting to disrupt the household with my presence. But in the last few days, Gunnar’s been urging me to put my stamp on things, even calling in Viv to get her to convince me to put my mark on his place. We’re supposed to go shopping for ‘household stuff’ on Monday when the pub is closed. Emmy wanted to come, but she has school so I promised her we’d take her to The Maine Mall some other time when we can focus on her favorite stores. I haven’t been in a mall for so long, I find I’m actually looking forward to it.
“What’s going through that head of yours?” Gunnar’s voice is gruff with sleep. I turn over and smile into his heavy lidded eyes. Even with sleep creases marring his face, the scruff of his beard unkempt and his hair unruly, he still takes my breath away. Where he would intimidate me before, I now recognize the loving protectiveness that brings out his sometimes prickly personality. He would do anything and everything for those he loves. I’m one of those lucky ones.
“Just thinking. Trying to wrap my head around how lucky I am. From living on the street one day to waking up to you every morning only a few months later. Seems surreal at times.” I run my hand over the coarse hair on his jaw, shivering at the sensation on my palm. I had the friction of his scruff on the inside of my thighs last night, when he had his tongue and lips working me until I came so hard, I swear I saw stars.
A slight smile pulls at his lips. “I know what you’re thinking...” he teases, turning his head and pressing a kiss to my hand before lifting me to cover his body. My legs settle on either side of his hips and his hardening cock is hitting me just right. Just as I reach my mouth to his for a kiss, the door slams open.
“Syd? Can you do pancakes today?” Dex jumps on the bed in my vacated spot and I gingerly slide off Gunnar’s body on the other side.
“Today? Why don’t we save that for the weekend, kid?” Gunnar interjects before I have a chance to respond. Dexter’s face falls with disappointment, but only for a moment.
“But today is Friday! The beginning of the weekend, so I think we should have pancakes to celebrate.” The smirk on his face is priceless and I can’t help but laugh at the little smartass. His hopeful eyes are focused on me as I slide out of bed, thanking the lord I had pulled Gunnar’s shirt back on right before I fell asleep.
“All right, sweetie, but you better have your sister up and your butt downstairs in fifteen minutes. And no skipping the toothbrush today.”
With a fist pump and a victorious ‘Yesss’, causing Gunnar to chuckle, Dex is up and out of the room in a flash.
“Come here,” Gunnar tempts me from the bed. “I wasn’t done with you.”
“You heard the man-child. I’m wanted in the kitchen,” I say as I make a move to the bathroom, but Gunnar manages to snag the back of my shirt as I try to sneak by and pulls me back. With his hand gripping the back of my neck, he pulls me down for a knee-buckling kiss.
“There, now you can go.” With a satisfied smirk and a slap on my butt, I’m released.
“Dad! Syd! You guys are in the newspaper!” Emmy comes barreling in from her morning task of grabbing the paper from the driveway.
What?
Gunnar snatches the paper from Emmy’s hands and pushing the breakfast dishes out of the way, spreads it open on the counter.
“Fucking piece of shit!” he spits out, looking at a picture of the pub’s back entrance, perfectly framed with Gunnar looking over his shoulder at the camera, me right behind him and on the step below, the health inspector and Officer Bragdon. Impossible to miss is the patrol car at the bottom left side of the image. The title accompanying the image is ‘Local Restaurant Forced To Close Their Doors?’ with a subheading stating: ‘The Skipper is in trouble...’ There is nothing more on the front page other than a brief
paragraph with a sequence of events, highlighting an as yet, unexplained fire on the property, a violent attack resulting in the death of a hardworking Portland native, and the shutdown by the Health Department, pending an investigation. Only a reference to page twelve for the full article and our names as identified from the photo.
“This is fucking inflammatory as hell. I’m gonna nail that little bastard’s hide to the wall.” Gunnar is whipping the pages until he finds the ‘full article’, a small two column description, basically stating the death was in self defense, the Health Department reported no issues and the only thing still unresolved was the fire in a shed on the property.
I put my hand on Gunnar’s arm and lean in to whisper in his ear. “Kids.” One look at their faces when their father yelled was enough to know he’s scaring them. They’ve had enough irrational behavior from one parent, and seeing their father lose his cool must have them worried. Gunnar’s eyes follow the direction of my gaze.
“Fuck,” I hear him say under his breath before getting up and walking over to where they’re standing, backpacks in hand by the door.
“I’m sorry, guys,” he tells the two. “I’m not upset with you. Someone’s been trying to make things difficult for the pub and that article in the newspaper is just the last of it.” He snags each of them by the back of the neck and pulls them to his chest, bending over them protectively.
Gunnar
“Are we gonna be okay?” Emmy wants to know.
“Always, my girl. Just a bump in the road and nothing your old dad can’t handle.” I tell her.
We’ve just dropped off Dex at school, who seems to have forgotten the entire incident already, but Emmy’s been brooding. She’s standing with her hand on the car door, leaning in, her eyes filled with worry.
“Honey,” I try to reassure her, “there is no problem so big it can’t be fixed. Let me do the worrying for both of us, okay?”
At her timid nod, I lean over the center console, beckoning her closer. “Now give me my kiss and get yourself smart in there, girl.” I point to the front doors of the school, making her smile before she leans in to give me my kiss. “Love you, Emmy.”
“Love you more, Dad,” she says in that way that makes my heart swell a little more each time.
“Impossible,” I yell after her, blowing her a kiss as she goes.
This little reality check with my daughter has cooled me down. I’m pissed, for sure, but Emmy just reminded me I have all that I need at home—no need to bring home trouble to spoil the goodness I have there. The pub will survive. It’s seen the worst storms, economic downfalls, and an assortment of other challenges over the decades, and has still remained standing. It will now too, I’ll fucking see to it.
A phone call to my lawyer the moment I get home confirms what I suspect; Geoff Bailey hasn’t said anything that could be labeled as defamation. No chance to get him or the Herald to retract their story. His suggestion is to allow him to interview Syd and myself for a follow up story, but there is no way in hell I’d put Syd through that. Not a chance. Not up for discussion, and I tell her that right off the bat. I’ll just ride it out.
“What if he keeps up with the innuendo? If he does another story like this one?” Syd asks beside me. We’re on our way to the storage unit where I keep most of the patio furniture during the winter. My parents used to have it upstairs in the apartment, which was used for storage of just about anything before I cleaned it out and moved in after leaving Cindy. Since then it’s been kept at the Cumberland Self Storage; not too far from the pub.
“As long as he stays on the side of the truth, there isn’t much we can do and I doubt our regular patrons will stop coming because of the negative publicity he’s trying to create.” I chuckle, turning into the storage facility. “Who knows, maybe it’s true what they say; that any publicity is good publicity.”
I don’t really believe that and from the frown on Syd’s face, neither does she.
It doesn’t take us long to load everything into the rental truck Dino drives up in shortly after we get there and in convoy style, we take off for the pub where Viv and Matt are already waiting. I want to get this stuff cleaned and set up before the dinner rush. Shouldn’t be a problem with all hands on deck to wash the furniture down and set it up.
Luckily, it’s mostly just dust covering the tables and chairs. The umbrellas we shake out in the alley before hosing them down. A few buckets of soap work on the rest of the furniture and before you know it, we have it all drying in the afternoon sun.
Dino and Viv are handling the food service and Matt is manning the bar for the lunch crowd while Syd and I are setting up the server’s station outside. It’s where we store menus, salt and pepper shakers, sugar, and other sweeteners and assorted condiments. “We should try and include some of your Thursday night specials in the regular menu,” I suggest to her as I’m skimming over the pages of a menu. “Thinking that Jambalaya would do well.”
“Seriously?” She pauses with filling the saltshakers and shifts her attention to me. “But wouldn’t Dino mind?”
“Doubtful. He’s the one who suggested it in the first place. Said something about that recipe having the ability to come a fast favorite.” I love the smile that stretches across her face when I tell her this.
“Okay,” she says, shrugging her shoulders and pretending to be unaffected, but that big smile is still there, telling how she really feels.
“Deal. After the weekend, let’s figure out what numbers we’d be looking at daily and adjust our order.”
I chuckle when she starts clapping her hands like a child. So fucking cute. Unable to resist, I pull her into my arms and kiss that smiling face. Nothing matters when I have my tongue in her mouth; the world just falls away.
“Oh, how cozy.” Until the one person you’re trying to forget walks up.
When I lift my head, I see Cindy is not alone. At some point along the line, she’s made a new friend.
“Hello Cindy...Denise. What can I do for you?” I try to keep my cool even though it’s suddenly clear to me where Cindy got some of the misinformation she spouted last week. Ironic that these two found each other, or is it?
Syd is squirming in my hold, trying to get away, but I hold her in place, tucked against my side when I face the two.
“I see you kissed and made up? I’ve got to say, you’re making this very easy on me, Gunnar.” Cindy looks at me with a little smile playing on her lips before it turns into a sneer when she turns her eyes on Syd. “Your little plaything here apparently has been a very busy girl. Denise was kind enough to come to me a few weeks ago with her concerns for my children, but this morning’s newspaper sheds an even clearer light on things,” she says, waving this morning’s Herald in my face. “I’m thinking this might be information a judge would find enlightening, don’t you think?”
I’m letting her ramble, even laugh at the unimpressive threat, but I’m still trying desperately not to let go of Syd and use my hands to strangle my ex-wife. Ignoring her and her nonsense, I turn to Denise.
“What do you stand to gain from this? Anything? Gotta say, I’m a bit surprised you’d tie your wagon to this one,” I tilt my head in Cindy’s direction, “or are you just pissed I never was tempted once to take you up on the blatantly obvious invitations to fuck you?” Syd shifts beside me and I stroke her arm soothingly. The sharp hiss my words elicit from Denise is satisfying. “Never would’ve fucking happened. Syd or no Syd, there is absolutely nothing you have to offer that I am even remotely interested in, but to mix yourself into this mess, to play with the welfare of my children? You’re fucking worse than she is,” I point at Cindy. “She’s a drunk, has been for years. She’s got nothing but her own needs in mind. Any motherly impulses she may have had have been drowned in alcohol. She’s already lost all her dignity, and I see that you’re quickly losing yours. And for fucking what?”
Denise flinches at the impact of what I say and turns her eyes away, shuffling her feet restle
ssly. Cindy, on the other hand, is spitting mad.
“I’ll have you know I have my diggin...dig...whatever!” She can’t even get the fucking words out of her mouth, she’s that sauced already. Before I have a chance to point that out, Cindy swings on Syd. “It’s all because of you.” She stabs a finger at her and I’m this close to losing it on her when Syd puts a calming hand on my chest and steps forward, coming face to face with the irate woman.
“You lost him way before I ever got here. I had no part in that, Cindy. You did that on your own, but if you think you’re hurting now, imagine losing your children for good. I lost a child. There is absolutely no other pain in the world that compares. You need to think long and hard before you ruin any chance you have for a relationship with them—before your children turn their backs on you. I can promise you that’s not something you recover from. The hole it leaves in your heart is permanent.” Her words seem to have taken the fire from Cindy’s eyes, leaving her wringing her hands nervously. It’s like she’s confused by Syd’s friendly tone. With a gentle smile, Syd adds, “The kids love you, they just don’t like you very much right now. You can change that. Only you can change that. I love them and want to be part of their lives, but Cindy? You’re their mother. You’ll always be their mother, even if you’re not behaving like it now.”
Fuck, this woman owns me. For as much as I thought I was getting through to these two vindictive bitches, Syd just very quietly and calmly holds a mirror up in front of their faces. Oh, as much as she was talking to Cindy, Denise is clearly affected too. She grabs Cindy by the arm, turns her around and walks away, throwing one last wistful glance over her shoulder.
I pull Syd’s body back against me and bury my nose in her hair, breathing her in along with the fresh air, blowing in off the ocean.
“What did that bitch want?” Viv is standing with her hands on her hips by the door when we head inside.
