Heart of Glass

by Nicole Jacquelyn

The quiet sound of a bedroom door closing interrupted my words.

  * * *

  Early the next morning I woke up to the sounds of people walking around my house. It was a scenario that had never happened before, and I lay there for a while enjoying the sound before I got up. I liked having people in the house. Every once in a while Shane and Kate came to visit, but they’d never stayed overnight at my place. It was just easier for them to stay with the oldies so the grandparents could have as much time as possible with the kids.

  “’Morning, Trevor,” Miranda said as I made my way toward the coffeepot. “Thanks for letting us stay last night.”

  “Of course,” I replied, giving her a smile.

  Morgan’s little sister was still looking pale, and she held herself in a way I’d seen a lot of foster kids hold themselves when they’d come to stay with my parents, but she looked better rested than she had the day before. I couldn’t imagine the pain she must be in, both physical and emotional, but I hoped she’d gotten some sleep.

  “You guys want to do anything today?” I asked, taking a sip of weak-as-hell coffee and trying not to grimace at how disgusting it was. “I’ve got all the movie channels if you just want to hang on the couch, but there’s also a lot of trails on the property if you feel like taking a walk.”

  Miranda lifted her hand to stop my chatter. “I think we’re actually heading home soon,” she said apologetically.

  “Oh.” My mouth snapped shut and I looked down the hallway toward where I knew Morgan and Etta were.

  “It’s probably time I went to see my dad,” Miranda said. “He must be wondering why Morgan hauled ass to Oregon and if we don’t tell him something soon, he’ll be on his way here.”

  “You could call him,” I replied, pouring my coffee down the sink.

  “I think he’d probably rather have that conversation in person,” she said quietly. “Don’t you?”

  I paused with my hands on top of the coffeepot. “Yeah.” I turned and nodded my understanding. “You’re right.”

  “But thank you,” Miranda said again. “For everything you did yesterday and for letting us crash at your house.”

  “You’re welcome here anytime,” I told her, completely serious. “You ever want to come visit, hang out in the woods or go fishing or just escape for a while—you’ve got a place here.”

  “You’re good people,” she replied, cocking her head to the side. “You know that?”

  “I try.”

  Morgan came down the hallway carrying Etta and their bag, and my conversation with Miranda was suddenly over.

  “Twevo!” Etta said happily, kicking her legs to get down. As soon as she was standing on her own two feet, she ran to me and wrapped her little arms around my leg. “Koda?”

  “He’s out in his dog run,” I replied, running my hand over her silky hair. “You want to go see him?”

  “We need to go pretty soon,” Morgan said, readjusting the bag hanging on her shoulder. When our eyes met, though, she relented. “But you can go see him for a few minutes,” she told Etta. “Only a few minutes.”

  I nodded in understanding and led Etta out the back door to where Koda’s temporary setup was. At night he slept in the mud room on a huge dog bed that I figured he’d eventually grow into, but during the day he had a fenced-in area with a house and some toys to play with. At some point he’d be old enough to roam as he pleased, but while he was young I wasn’t taking any chances that he’d get lost or killed by a predator in the woods.

  Etta rambled on and on in her little gibberish as soon as I let Koda out to play with her, however, my attention was quickly divided between her and the open kitchen window when I heard the women inside start to speak. They must not have known the window was right by Koda’s pen. I was the subject of their conversation, so I didn’t feel an ounce of remorse for eavesdropping.

  “Why are we leaving now?” Miranda asked.

  “Because Dad’s going to lose his mind—”

  “He has no idea what’s going on, Mor. I’m pretty sure he could wait a couple more days to find out.”

  “We can’t just stay here.”

  “Why not? He freaking invited us.”

  “Just leave it, Ranna, okay?”

  “No. This is crap. I like it here, and I’m not in a hurry to go tell Dad why I’m dropping out of school.”

  “You know he’ll understand. You can finish up at a school in Sacramento.”

  “That’s not the point and you know it.”

  “I’m sorry that you don’t want to go home yet,” Morgan said. “But I don’t want to stay here anymore. Maybe we can find a hotel on the way down and stop for a couple days or something.”

  “Why don’t you want to stay here? God, you’re so annoying. Trevor practically worships you—”

  “No, he doesn’t,” Morgan cut in flatly.

  “And we don’t have the cash to just hang out in a hotel,” Miranda continued like her sister hadn’t spoken.

  “Just let it go, please.”

  “This is bullshit,” Miranda mumbled so quietly I almost didn’t hear her. “You’re treating that guy like crap.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yeah, Morgan,” she snapped. “You are.”

  Everything went silent then.

  “Twevo,” Etta called. “Twevo, Koda potty.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I replied, walking over to pick her up so she wouldn’t follow the peeing puppy. “He’s not very good at it yet.”

  We watched as he peed all over himself, refusing to stop in his exploration of the side of the house long enough to pause and lift his leg.

  “I think he needs a bath,” I told Etta.

  “Koda no like baths.”

  “I’m pretty sure he will. Don’t you like baths?”

  “Me no like baths,” Etta replied, shaking her head.

  “Let’s put him back in his pen for now,” I said, my lips twitching.

  We spent the next few minutes calling and cajoling Koda over to the fence, and a few after that praising him for listening. Then, before I was ready, Morgan came out the back door to get Etta.

  “Time to go, baby,” she said.

  “Me no go,” Etta argued.

  “Don’t you want to see Grandpa?”

  “No.”

  Morgan sighed. “Sorry, toots. We have to go home.”

  “No,” Etta said, scrunching up her face in annoyance.

  “Yep,” Morgan replied, coming over to pull an unhappy Etta from my arm. “But Auntie Ranna is coming with us. Maybe we can get some snacks, what do you think?”

  “No,” Etta said again, though a little less adamantly this time.

  “Can you say good-bye to Uncle Trevor?” Morgan asked.

  I was startled, but I didn’t let it show. She’d never referred to me as “uncle” before.

  “Bye,” Etta said mutinously.

  “Bye, Henrietta,” I replied, I leaned forward and gave her cheek a kiss, making sure that my beard tickled along her jawline.

  Etta giggled, giving me the response I was hoping for.

  “I’ll walk you out front,” I told Morgan.

  So many things ran through my head as we made our way around the side of the house. I wanted to ask her why she was in such a rush to leave. I wanted to know if I would hear from her or if my phone was going to go silent once again, if the fact that she’d called when she’d needed me had actually meant anything. I wanted to tell her that I was sorry for siding with my mom the night before, that I knew I’d messed up, that I loved her, that I missed her already and she hadn’t even left yet, that I could no longer imagine my life without her and Etta in it.

  Instead, I walked her to the car and opened Etta’s door so Morgan could buckle her into her seat. I rested my knuckles against Miranda’s window in a silent good-bye, and smiled when she fist-bumped me through the glass. Finally, as Morgan climbed into her car, I said the only thing I could. The only thing that was safe. Two words that I hoped enc
ompassed everything I was feeling and everything I knew she wasn’t ready to hear.

  “Drive safe,” I ordered, stepping back from the car.

  With a nod, she threw the car into reverse and turned around, leaving me standing there in the driveway.

  * * *

  “Has she called?” Bram asked at Friday night dinner a week later.

  “No,” I replied shortly. “Not since she texted to let me know that they made it safely.”

  “Well at least she did that.”

  “I guess.”

  “Man, you need to figure that shit out,” he said, shaking his head in disappointment.

  “You think I’m not trying?” I spit back. “I feel like I’m walking on eggshells.”

  “Well,” he said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. “Just step on them.”

  “What?”

  “If you feel like you’re pussyfooting around her, stop doing it.”

  “There’s more to it than that,” I ground out, popping the top of my beer. I took a long swallow and leaned against my parents’ back porch railing. “If I play it wrong, she disappears and it’s my fault that we can’t see Etta.”

  “Oh, come on, Trev,” he replied. “That’s weak.”

  “No, it’s practical.”

  “No. It’s weak.” He shook his head at me. “Trev, if she was like that? You wouldn’t be all strung out over her. You’re using that as an excuse, man. A lame one.”

  “She’s been pretty clear on how she feels.”

  “Has she?” he asked. “Really? Because what I saw was her calling you when she was upset, and then hiding out at your house for the night. I saw her watching you while we were hanging out. She wasn’t saying much, but damn, she was watching.”

  “She bailed,” I ground out, shrugging my shoulders in an attempt to hide how much that bothered me. “She doesn’t want to be with me.”

  “Or maybe you don’t want to be with her,” Bram countered, shaking his head. “Looks to me like you’re both too fucking stubborn to figure it out.”

  I opened my mouth to argue, but he lifted his hand in a gesture to be quiet.

  “We can play this game all night, but I’m not a fucking woman, and I don’t want to talk about your feelings,” he said bluntly. “What’s that saying? Would you rather be right or be happy? I guess that’s the question. You want to stay here secure in the fact that she left and you’re the injured party, or you want to go and make the first move to fix it? Up to you.”

  He walked back into the house, but I stayed outside for a little while, thinking over what he’d said. I’d spent most of my life trying to make sure the people around me were comfortable. At that point, it was so ingrained in my personality that I wasn’t sure I could change it. When Morgan had left, I hadn’t argued. That was what she’d wanted, so I’d let her go. It had made things easier on me, if I was being fully honest with myself. If Morgan was making that decision, then I didn’t have to deal with the guilt that loving her caused me. I didn’t have to worry about my parents’ reaction or how our relationship would look to everyone else.

  As time passed, though, I realized what a cop-out my “letting her go” excuse was. There was a difference between being overbearing and showing someone that you cared about them. I’d been so concerned about the former that I was beginning to think I’d neglected the latter.

  When my dad poked his head out the door to let me know dinner was ready, I turned and walked into the house still mulling things over.

  “We should start having dinner at your house again,” my mom told my aunt as we dug into our food. “I know you were trying to make things easier on me for a while, but we’re cramped around this table.”

  “Fine with me,” Aunt Liz replied, grinning. “I think Kate’s bringing the kids up soon and we’ll need the extra space.”

  “Oh yeah?” My mom smiled back, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “That’ll be nice. Shane hasn’t said a word about it.”

  “I think they just decided today,” Aunt Liz said. “I’m sure he’ll call you tonight.”

  “Probably.”

  Ani elbowed me in the side. “If Shane even knows it’s happening,” she mumbled to me under her breath. “The last I heard, he was training most of the month, so I doubt he’ll come.”

  “It’s nice that Katie’s so good about bringing the kids for visits,” my mom said. “And that she lets you see the kids when she’s here.” She popped a piece of food into her mouth with a roll of her eyes, and the muscles in my back and neck instantly tightened as I waited to see where she was going with her comments.

  “Why wouldn’t she?” Aunt Liz asked.

  “Exactly,” my mom replied. “It seems like, if you were in the neighborhood, you’d at least let your kids visit their grandparents.”

  “That was ridiculous,” my aunt said, shaking her head in disgust. “Especially when she was on the property.”

  “She has a name,” I said coolly. “It’s Morgan.”

  “Trevor,” Ani said quietly, trying to calm me.

  “We know Morgan’s name,” Mom replied.

  “Well, then why don’t you use it?” I asked, my words a little more clipped.

  “What has you all balled up?” Mom asked, scrunching her nose in confusion. “You got to see Henrietta while she was here.”

  “Don’t do it,” Ani warned under her breath, tapping her foot against mine under the table.

  “It would be a little hard not to see her when she was staying at my house.”

  “Yeah, what was that about?” Aunt Liz asked.

  “Not our business, Lizzie,” my uncle Dan said in an undertone as he reached out to press his hand over my aunt’s on the table.

  “What’s not your business?” my mom asked, looking around the table. “What am I missing here?”

  She looked at my dad, but he didn’t say a word.

  “What?” she finally asked me directly. “Is this about whatever is going on with you two?”

  I didn’t reply. I couldn’t. I didn’t even know if there was anything between Morgan and me anymore. I wasn’t about to get into it with my mom over something that may or may not even happen.

  “You obviously realized that was a bad idea,” my mom said, scoffing. “I could tell by the way she stopped popping up in conversation.”

  I really tried to keep my mouth shut. I clenched my teeth and fisted my palms on my thighs in an effort to let her observation go. In the end, though, I just couldn’t stop myself.

  “Actually,” I said, taking a deep breath. “If anyone decided that, it was her. If it was up to me, she’d have my ring on her finger.”

  The table went completely silent for about two seconds, and then all hell broke loose. Bram started laughing, Ani dropped her head into her hands like she couldn’t believe what I’d said, my mother and aunt were talking over each other wondering what the hell I was thinking, and Uncle Dan was trying to shush my aunt. But when I glanced over at my dad, he wasn’t fazed at all. His lips were pulled up just slightly on one side as he looked at me, and his eyes showed not an ounce of surprise.

  I knew the words would be explosive. I also knew that they were very premature. I’d have to get the woman to actually talk to me if I was ever going to propose marriage. However, I didn’t know of any other way to make the seriousness of my position any clearer. If it was up to me, Morgan and I would be together. We’d be a family.

  “That woman,” my mom began.

  “Careful now,” Dad warned, his chin jerking up.

  “Mike,” my mom said in surprise.

  I watched anxiously as my dad swallowed and set his fork down on the table.

  “The boy’s made his intentions more than clear,” Dad said quietly, his gaze never leaving my mom. “And I didn’t raise him to let any woman be disrespected in his hearing, especially not the woman he cares about. I know you’re upset, Eleanor, but you be careful about what you say.”

  My mom’s cheeks redden
ed and her mouth tightened in anger.

  “Why on earth would you think that this is even remotely appropriate?” she asked my dad in disgust.

  “Why would you think it wasn’t?” Dad countered. Everything went silent after his words of acceptance, and I felt like I could take a deep breath for the first time in months.

  My parents rarely fought. Sometimes, when I was a kid, I’d hear them arguing quietly after all the kids were in bed, but by the next morning everything was usually cleared up. They didn’t hold grudges, and normally they didn’t disagree on anything that was important. I’d never seen them argue in front of others.

  “Enough,” I said, barely raising my voice. As much as I loved my dad sticking up for me, I couldn’t watch it any longer.

  My mom and dad both turned to me in surprise.

  “I appreciate it,” I said to my dad with a nod. “But this isn’t up for discussion.”

  My mom started to sputter, and I just shook my head.

  “I care about your opinion,” I said, meeting the beautiful blue eyes that I’d loved since the moment I saw them. “But in this case, it’s not your call.”

  “She was your brother’s girlfr—”

  “She wasn’t his anything,” I interrupted through gritted teeth, unwilling to let her use that argument. Anger rose up in me like a tidal wave. “And he left her and their daughter high and dry.”

  “You have no idea what happened between the two of them,” she replied stubbornly.

  “I know more than you do,” I countered. “I know enough.”

  “Enough to make you think it’s okay to—”

  “Mom,” I said, cutting her off. “Henry fucking left her!” My hands were clammy and the back of my neck felt hot. My stomach was churning with nausea, but I couldn’t stop the words flowing from my mouth. “If I’m supposed to show some sort of loyalty to Hen by not loving the mother of his child, then I guess I’m a shitty brother. I’d like to say that if Hen was here, I’d tell him the same thing, but let’s all be honest. If Hen was here, we wouldn’t even know about Etta or Morgan.”

  “How dare you talk about your brother that way,” my mom hissed, tears filling her eyes. “You get out of my house.” My head jerked back at the venom in her words.