by Hart, Emma
“That might still happen.”
She rolled her eyes. “Talk to me, honey. I can see you have something on your mind.”
“Can we get coffee first?”
“Sure. I’ll make us some. Come down with me.”
I snagged a hair tie from the pot on my dresser, along with my brush, and followed her down. I took a seat at the kitchen table and did my hair while she made coffee.
A few minutes later, she set two mugs on the table and sat down. She didn’t say a word as I toyed with my braid. She simply sat, drank her coffee, and waited.
“I know we already had this chat. Kinda,” I started. “But, how did you know? That you could take on someone else’s child?”
She raised her eyebrows. The surprise registered on her face for a second before she realized and smoothed out her features. “I just knew. I didn’t wake up one morning with an epiphany that I was Mother Teresa or something.”
“Damn. I think that would have been easier.”
She nodded once. “Very much so. This question tells me that the way you feel about a certain family has changed an awful lot.”
I sipped my coffee before setting it down and wrapping my hands around the mug. I wasn’t cold, but goosebumps prickled over my skin. “I don’t know how it happened,” I admitted. I explained to her what had happened last night, and how easily I’d settled into a role that looked after them both without blinking.
“You love them. The twins.” It was a statement.
I nodded, looking into my mug. “They’re easy to love. Hard work, but easy to love. But, when does that stop becoming a novelty? I did it because I could. Not because I had to.”
“I disagree,” she said softly. “You knew Brantley was working. You knew it was obviously something important—something that couldn’t be interrupted. Someone had to look after the twins, and you did it.”
“But, the responsibility. When it becomes a responsibility and not just a one-time thing, then what?”
Mom studied me for a moment. “You’re afraid.”
“I’m not…afraid,” I said uncertainly. “I’m…I don’t know. This wasn’t my plan. I didn’t want kids. I didn’t want to walk into that house and fall in love with everyone in it.” I buried my face in my hands, taking a deep breath.
There.
I’d said it.
Jumped over the cliff.
Mom gave me a moment before she gently reached over and pulled my hands from my face. She lay my hands on the table and squeezed my fingers, then said in a low, quiet voice, “You don’t get to plan who you fall in love with. I’m sorry, honey, but you don’t. You don’t get to plan who, how, or when it happens. You just have to go with it when it does. If you got to plan it, I never would have fallen in love with your father.”
“You wouldn’t?” I said softly.
“Nope. I’d just got divorced. It was my fault. I was the one who couldn’t have kids. My ex-husband couldn’t deal with it. And let me tell you, honey, I was furious.” She squeezed my hands again as if to make me understand. “I didn’t want to be around kids. I especially didn’t want to be a step-parent. If I couldn’t have my own children, I didn’t want anyone else’s, either.”
“I never knew you felt like that.”
“I was grieving. Unlike you, a family is all I’d ever wanted. I had the choice taken away from me. Until I met your father.”
“How did you go from that? To being so angry to being who you are right now?”
“I fell in love with your dad,” she admitted. “It sounds fickle, but that’s all it took. It wasn’t like you were a secret—I knew he had you, and although I wasn’t interested at first, the way I felt about him outweighed all my anger eventually. We’d dated for months before he introduced us, do you remember?”
I nodded. “I was pissed because he wouldn’t tell me anything about you.”
“And you made it known.” Mom laughed. “Until that point, I was still in denial about having kids. I was still angry. Then, I walked into your house, and you looked up from your homework, stared at me, then to your dad, and said, “I’m busy. I’ve asked for weeks, so, now you have to wait for me.””
I bit the inside of my cheek, smiling.
I was kind of an asshole teen.
“I fell in love with you there and then.” She laughed again. “And, Kali? The day I fell in love with you was the day I accepted I couldn’t have children. There was no need to, because there was a child out there who already needed me, and that child was you.”
The smile dropped from my face.
“And, if I’d had my own children, I never would have gotten the greatest daughter ever: you.”
A lump formed in my throat. “Weren’t you scared? About how your life would change?”
“I thought you weren’t afraid.” Her lips twitched.
“Hypothetically,” I said.
“Hypothetically, I was terrified. Not only was I entering into a relationship, I was entering into a relationship with a man who had a teenage girl. Jeez.” She winked. “I was afraid you wouldn’t accept me. That…I don’t know. I wouldn’t be able to be the kind of person you needed in your life. I didn’t know anything about you except what your dad had told me. It took a long time before I understood what you needed me to be to you.”
I pulled my hands from hers and took a deep breath. “What if…What if I’m not good enough for them, Mom? What if I fuck up because I’m not the person they need me to be?”
“Good enough? What is good enough? How do you measure how worthy you are to someone else?” She raised an eyebrow. “Do you know how many times your father and I felt like we failed you, yet you turned around and made it clear we hadn’t? That’s part of being a parent. There will always be times you feel like you’re not good enough, but as long as you give it your everything, then you can’t ever be any better than that.”
“It’s just so…different. They’re tiny. They need so much more than I did when we met.”
“It sounds to me like you’re talking through your excuses.”
I took a deep breath and let it out on a shudder. “Maybe I am. Maybe I need to talk myself into it. I don’t know. I just…you’re right. I’m terrified, Mom. Of so many things.”
She stared at me, her eyes piercing into me, seeing right through me. “You’re terrified of never measuring up to their mom in his eyes, aren’t you?”
Ding ding ding, we have a winner.
I nodded. “He loved her, you know? Really loved her. How do you cope with that? Knowing that they lost someone they loved enough to have a child with?”
She folded her hands on top of each other and looked me dead in the eye. “I cope knowing that even after that, even though he sees her every single time he looks at you, he trusted me enough to open his heart to me. Your dad still loves your mom, Kali. Understand that. He’ll ever stop loving her, and that’s okay with me. It’s a different kind of love.” She paused. “And the part you’re forgetting is that both of you are still young enough that you have your lives ahead of you. Just because he loved her a certain way, doesn’t mean he can’t love you just as much in a different one. Remember, he’s the one who was hurt.”
“What do I do?”
“You need to think about what you really want. He’s the one putting three hearts on the line, and he’s trusting you not to break them.”
“No pressure, then.”
“Listen to your heart, Kali. I promise it won’t steer you wrong.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Two days later, Dad had installed the kids’ beds, and their rooms were done.
I didn’t know how I felt about it.
On one hand, it was amazing to see the rooms completed. All that needed to be done was bedding, curtains, and unpacking. As far as my work was concerned, though, I was done.
On the other and, there was nothing left for me to do but stare at the completed rooms with my heart in my throat.
Would I ever see th
ese bedrooms again?
I had a choice to make, and one I knew I had to make soon. My mom had been right. This wasn’t a normal relationship—there were two, little hearts on the line here as well, and as long as I kept myself in a state of indecision, I was being selfish.
Did I take the risk, or did I take the easy option and walk away?
If I took the risk, everything would change. And, in the weirdest kind of way, I was ready for it. The thought of not being around the twins and laughing at them…Well, that sucked.
The thought of not being around Brantley?
I didn’t want to think about that.
I leaned against the windowsill in Ellie’s room. I’d just made the choice, hadn’t I? Walking away wasn’t the easy option at all. If I did, I’d leave a piece of my heart here.
I’d leave a piece in the paint on the walls and the nails in the floor. In the drawers in the dresser and the shelves that held their piggy banks.
I stared around the room. A box sat at the end of her bed, and a frilly, tulle skirt poked out of the top. While Brantley had gotten most of downstairs unpacked—finally—the kids’ bedrooms had, understandably, been left behind.
Pink hangers hung from the rail Dad had built into the bed. It was the entire width of the bed, and slowly, I crawled under the mid-sleeper bed and dragged the box with me.
One by one, I pulled out each costume and hung it up. Cinderella. Belle. Tinkerbell. Moana. Every costume you could imagine a four-year-old having, she had it.
I paused, fingering the satin-tulle skirt of Rapunzel’s costume. Dad had listened to me—he’d put hooks on the bed under Eli’s.
For his superhero costumes.
I lined Ellie’s dress up shoes on the shelf beneath the rack and used a small tub to put tiaras and gloves in. Leaving the box in the middle of the room, I darted into Eli’s. There were boxes in the corner of his, and damn it.
Excited, I rifled through each one until I found his special brand of dress-up.
Capes.
So. Many. Capes.
A gleeful smile spread over my face as I pulled a Batman one out. Two capes hung from each hook, and I grabbed a small tub to put his masks in. There were a couple hats that sat carefully in there, too.
I slid out from under the bed, pressing my hands against my stomach.
My heart skipped.
Seeing his capes hanging up. Knowing Ellie’s dresses were in the other room. Shoes and masks and gloves and tiaras.
Imagining the smiles on their faces when they saw it.
I bit my lip.
Hard.
Something—something inside me flared to life, and these incomplete rooms weren’t enough. These rooms needed curtains and bedding and rugs.
Brantley was at work.
The twins were at daycare.
I should have been at home.
Instead…
Instead, I tore open boxes. I rifled through the closet in the hall. I laid rugs and hung curtains. I plugged in lamps and fitted lampshades. I bended the legs of action figures until they were sitting, and I taped a poster of princesses to a wall.
I fitted sheets. I shook out pillowcases. I turned bedding inside out before giving the quilts a damn good shake. I buttoned the sheets and laid out soft toys. Wriggled rugs and set them in the perfect place.
Lined books on shelves.
Stacked DVDs next to TVs.
Sliced the tape on empty boxes and flattened them.
Removed them from the spots they’d occupied for too long.
More importantly, I injected a little piece of my love for each of those kids into their rooms.
I hugged empty boxes to my chest and, standing in the hallway, I looked into both rooms.
Perfection.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Just perfection.
***
I stacked the last of the cardboard next to the trash can in the front yard and headed back inside. The clock said they were arriving anytime now, so I shut the door and took up my perch on the fifth step.
They wouldn’t see me when they came in, but I’d be able to execute the final stage of my master plan.
Well, the next-to-final.
The final was the admission to Brantley that I was in love with his children. In love with him. In love with the*m all.
And I was.
Never mind Keeping Up With The Kardashians.
I was in love with the chaos of the Coopers.
Hammered.
Nailed.
Screwed.
Drilled.
I’d done all those things since I’d walked through that front door, but none compared to the things this family had done to me since that day.
Brantley had all but fucked me into loving him, and his kids had done the same thing so effortlessly, albeit it in so many different ways.
A car rumbled into the driveway.
I covered my smile with my hand as the sounds of Brantley getting the kids out the car creeped through the door.
I’d parked my truck a block away a couple hours ago, and instead of wearing what I normally did, a blue, floral dress hugged my body until it flared at my hips, and it did that right now. Spread over the stair I sat on as my heart beat ten million miles an hour.
I wanted to see their faces as I saw their bedrooms.
I wanted to see Brantley’s face as he saw their rooms.
The door opened, and I tucked into myself.
“I hungry,” Ellie said.
“Cake?” Eli asked hopefully.
“Sure.” The door shut, but it didn’t measure up to the tone of Brantley’s voice. He was downcast, almost sad…
I stood up, biting my lip. “Hi,” I said.
The twins grinned.
Brantley stilled.
“I have a surprise for you,” I said softly. “You wanna see?”
They nodded their heads.
“Okay, come upstairs and cover your eyes.”
On cue, they both followed me up and covered their eyes with their hands when they got to the top.
“You ready?” I asked.
They nodded.
“One…” I pushed open Ellie’s door. “Two…” Did the same to Eli’s. “Three! Open your eyes!”
They both threw their hands off their eyes with a flourish. Given that they were staring into each other’s rooms, they didn’t move a muscle until I nudged them in the right direction.
Then, Eli gasped, and Ellie screamed.
Brantley shot up the stairs like a bullet. “What is…” His feet touched down just inches behind me, and he stopped. I moved back against the wall. The kids were already in their rooms. They waited for nothing as they tore through toyboxes and scrambled under their beds.
A deep breath filled my lungs, and I wrapped my arms around my waist.
“What did you…” he breathed, looking first in Eli’s room, then into Ellie’s. “Kali. What did you do?”
“Made their beds, hung their curtains…” I trailed off when Eli emerged from under his bed wearing a yellow mask and a lime-green cape. “Hung up their costumes.”
Right on cue, Ellie appeared, dressed as Cinderella.
Eli pointed at her. “You damsel in distwess! I wescue you!”
She frowned, looking him up and down. “No. I wescue you!”
He paused. “Okay,” he said, scampering into his room and climbing up onto his new bed. “Help! Help!”
Brantley rubbed his hand across his forehead. “I don’t know what to say to you.”
“Let me make you a coffee is a good start,” I admitted. “I’ve been here all day.”
He eyed me for a moment, lips twitching, before he moved to go down the stairs. We both hovered for a second to check on the twins, but seeing them reenacting some great rescue from the mighty top of Bed Mountain obviously reassured us both, because seconds later my feet touched the floor and we were in the kitchen together.
Awkwardness tinged the air.
&n
bsp; I leaned against the table and took a deep breath. I was exhausted. Nobody had bothered to tell me how exhausting it was to hang curtains and make beds.
No—nobody had told me how exhausting the little things were.
“Did anyone ever tell you,” I started, “That finding tape in your house is impossible?”
Spoon full of sugar in hand, Brantley paused. “Everyone who ever needed tape in my house.”
“Okay, so, for future reference, it’s on a red dispenser on your desk.”
“For now. Ellie likes to hang her drawings on her walls.”
“Ellie can learn to put it back where it belongs when she’s done with it.”
Again, he paused. Only for a second, but long enough to be poignant. “I feel like there’s a part of this conversation I’m not privy to.”
There was.
“There is,” I said.
“Mostly the part about why you’re here.”
“Well, that’s a funny story.”
“Isn’t it always with you?”
“As a rule,” I agreed. “So, me and Dad got done with the beds pretty quick, and I hung around to make sure everything was done. And I just…couldn’t leave.”
“Sounds more voodoo than funny story to me.”
“Shut up and let me talk.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He turned and gave me a coffee with a grin, then rested back against the counter with his arms folded across his chest. “Please continue.”
I took a deep drink of coffee, set the mug down, and did just that. Well… “Now, you interrupted me. Where did I stop talking?”
“You just couldn’t leave,” he reminded me.
“Oh! Right. Thanks.” This wasn’t going how I’d planned it.
Story of my fucking life.
“So, yeah. I couldn’t leave. Then, I found Ellie’s costume box, and one thing led to another.”
“One thing led to you completing their bedrooms almost to entirety,” he pointed out.
“Right. Another.” I shrugged and used my coffee mug as a shield to hide my smile. “Semantics and all that.”
Brantley eyed me for a moment. “Why?” The question was short. Sharp. To the point. But, not cruel. Still kind—but so curious. “Why did you stay?”
