by K. Webster
Dad is stiff and unmoving. But when Presley’s smile falls, he sits up, offering his hand. She shakes it, beaming at him. “I’m Fletcher.”
“Fletcher,” she tries the word out on her tongue. “Do you think I look like a puppy or a horse?” She doesn’t let go of his hand. When she stands, his eyes widen for a moment. Her mouth goes to his ear as she whispers loudly. “Say horse.”
“Um,” he says, his voice gravelly and unsure before darting a confused glance my way. “Horse?”
She shrieks and lets go of his hand so she can point at me. “Ha! Told you so. You stink, Yeo. Fletcher is my new friend.” Her lashes flutter in that innocent way that makes everyone’s heart around her melt as she flits her gaze to Dad. “Aren’t you?”
He’s uncomfortable but he’s not being rude. Progress. “Yeah, I guess. I’m your friend.”
With a triumphant glint in her eyes, she continues licking her cone.
“Why are you out here alone?” I question, my eyes narrowed.
She shrugs her shoulders but gets a faraway look in her eyes. “Daddy hurt Mommy again. She couldn’t get ice cream with me. I had to go alone.”
A low growl in Dad’s throat startles me. I flicker my eyes over to him. He now sits with his elbows on his knees, leaning toward her. Sweet, magnetic Presley.
“Did your daddy hurt you, nugget?” I ask.
Melted green ice cream runs down the back of her hand. Her lip wobbles at my question. “No.”
Dad and I both sense the lie. He, surprisingly so, is the first to respond. “Who’s abusing you?” The tone of his voice is protective. I’m shocked.
Her tear-filled glassy blue orbs find his. “Daddy. Always Daddy.”
His chin jerks over to me and I see it. Worry and confusion and fury. He’s angry for her.
“Nugget,” I say softly as I tug a couple of napkins from the dispenser and hand them to her. “What can we do to help?”
Her nose scrunches up as she ponders my question. We sit for a few moments more as she licks her ice cream. Finally, she finds the nerve to answer me. “Can you make him go away?”
Dad’s jaw clenches. “I could put in a call. My son’s friend knows some people at the police station who might be able to help.”
Her eyes brighten and she beams at Dad as if he were a hero. “Would they take him to jail? I don’t like when he…” The smile on her face falls as she looks down at the table, her voice coming out in a whisper. “I don’t like when he comes into my room at night.”
I sense Dad is about to explode so I diffuse the situation. “Hey, nugget? I think that cone is nothing but a mess now. Why don’t you go get cleaned up in the bathroom?”
She nods as she stands. Dad lets out a grunt of surprise when she throws her sticky arms around him, hugging him tight. He doesn’t hug her back but he does pat her back.
“Thank you, Fletcher,” she murmurs.
His pained eyes meet mine for a brief second. “You’re welcome, Presley. Go and get cleaned up.”
She breaks from him and skips off to the bathroom leaving me with my father. Questions dance in his eyes. Anger pinches his brows together. Sorrow makes his rigid shoulders hunch.
“That poor girl,” is all he says.
“Yep.”
I can see he has a thousand questions but he keeps them locked up in his head until the time is right. Dad is known for analyzing. For fact checking. For coming to educated conclusions. It’s what makes him so good at his job.
The bell chimes above the shop door and we both watch as Presley bounces off down the street and around the corner without so much as a goodbye. She’s always walking to and from the ice cream shop by herself. That girl is brave and independent. I wish there was more I could do for her.
“Yeo,” he says, scrubbing his palm over his face. “Please explain to me what’s going on with that girl.”
I scratch at my jaw before turning a raised brow at him. “Her story is sad, Dad. I’m not even sure it’s my story to tell.”
His mouth is opened to argue when his eyes zero in on Kadence, her long hair flowing in the breeze. She’s about to pass the shop when she sees me. I wave her inside. Her smile is small and pretty but the moment she sees Dad, it falls away. Her confidence melts away and her entire body tenses.
“Uh, I was just passing by. Didn’t mean to interrupt anything,” she says, her voice timid.
I stand and stride over to her. Kissing her quickly on the lips, I then guide her over to the table. “Excuse the mess. We ran into Presley. She did more talking than eating. You know how that little nugget is.”
She sits and her eyes skim over the green drops littering the table. “Ew, mint?”
Chuckling, I nod at her. “Want anything?”
“Rainbow sherbet, please,” she says, her unsure eyes flicking over to my dad.
His body is tense as he watches her. My eyes never leave their table as I order her a bowl of rainbow sherbet. Her lips move every now and again, clearly answering his questions with those one-worded answers she’s so good at. Finally, I have her sherbet in hand and stroll back over to them.
“What’d I miss?” I ask and slide her bowl over to her.
“Thank you,” she says sweetly. “Um, your dad said you might have found a building. For your practice. That sounds nice.”
Grinning at her, I give her a quick wink. “It was nice. If we end up getting it, Dad and I would love to show it to you. Isn’t that right, Dad?”
His nod is slow but at least he’s agreeing.
“I’d like that,” she murmurs, scooping out a spoonful of the sherbet. “Well, as long as I don’t have any lessons.”
I nudge her foot under the table and send her a comforting look. Her shoulders relax a bit. A smile plays at her pink lips. I’d do anything to keep it there all day.
“We’ll make it work,” I assure her and take her free hand, my forearm sticking in some residue along the way. “I thought maybe we could go shopping today. Are you free? My car is at Dad’s office. What do you think?”
She takes a bite of her sherbet and glances quickly over at my dad who remains silent before looking back at me. “What are you shopping for?”
“We could go furniture shopping. If I get a building, I’m going to need a desk and bookcases. Stuff like that.”
Her smile is small but it’s there. “Do they have kitchen tables there?”
At this, Dad leans in, his interest visible. “What do you need a kitchen table for? Do you not have one?” he questions.
Her body tenses at his words but she faces him bravely. “Someone carved their name into mine. I can’t look at it without wanting to be sick.”
I can tell he’s about to probe her more when I cut in. “That table is old anyway. We’ll find a new one.”
She eats more of her sherbet while I send Dad a sad look. He’s perceptive and smart as a whip. I know he’s putting together pieces quicker than he lets on.
“So, Kadydid, I was just telling Dad here that I thought maybe we could have a big family dinner. Maybe one at your house. Agatha has offered to host,” I tell her, a small lie. Agatha offered to help but I know she won’t mind cooking for my army. “Thought maybe it would be a great way for them to get to know you better. Since I’m back for good and all.”
Her eyes whip to mine, fear dwelling in them, before she flickers them over to Dad. I expect him to be all hard and imposing but he smiles. Dad actually fucking smiles.
“We’d love to see your place and meet your family, Kadence,” he tells her, his voice warm and different than usual.
Her eyes widen and her plump lips part open. “Um, I don’t know. Some of my family are…they are…” She jerks her gaze to mine, pleading with me. “They’re bad.”
I squeeze her hand. “Dad’s not afraid of bad people. He deals with them all the time with his company. Isn’t that right?”
Dad nods and clears his throat. “I’m curious to meet them. The bad ones as well. If they’
re a part of your family, then I’d like to meet them.”
She swallows, fighting tears in her eyes. “Okay.”
“What about Friday night?” Dad questions.
“We’ll ask Agatha if she can make it happen,” I tell him and give her clammy palm another comforting squeeze. “If she can buy and prepare enough food by then, we’ll make it work.”
“Tell Miss Agatha my Gyeong will help her cook if need be. Or, we could always have food catered. Let’s make this dinner happen, though, okay Kadence?” His eyes have a sympathetic gleam to them. A gleam I remember as a child. Something fatherly and protective that always shone in his eyes. I’m about to fist pump the air over the fact that he’s giving her a look he hardly even shows to my brothers.
Kadence laughs. Cute and quiet. Just like her. “Agatha would have a fit if we ordered in. You don’t want to make that old lady mad,” she teases. “She’ll hit you over the head with a rolled-up magazine or put you to work scrubbing baseboards. It’s best we let her do what she enjoys. And Agatha loves cooking. Thank you.”
Dad nods at her. “I’m looking forward to it.”
For the first time since I arrived back in Morgantown, things are starting to look up. Two of the most important people in my life, who have spent the better part of two decades avoiding each other, seem to finally be attempting to reach out to one another. I’m not sure how it’ll all turn out but I can’t help but thank God for this tiny step in the right direction.
* * *
Kady
Nine Years Old…
“I want to play with Yeo,” I whine, my legs kicking the air beneath me as I poke at a green bean with my fork.
Grandma smiles. “Isn’t he grounded?”
Huffing, I nod. “He made a bad grade at school.”
“His parents are too hard on him,” Mommy chimes in. Today, she’s pretty. Her brown hair has been twisted up into a fancy bun. There’s a dark bruise on her neck and I frown. Daddy doesn’t live with us anymore, so I wonder how she got the bruise.
“Mommy, what happened to your neck?”
Grandma’s grey eyebrows lift and she smiles. “Yes, Louise, what happened to your neck?”
Mommy’s cheeks turn red and now she’s the one poking at her green bean. “Um, it was an accident.”
“Did Kevin accidentally give you that bruise on your date last night?” Grandma asks, her voice light and teasing.
Mommy seems embarrassed and Grandma seems happy. I don’t understand why they’re acting so weird. If Kevin is bruising my mommy like Daddy used to, I hate him.
“Who is Kevin?” I question, my bottom lip threatening to quiver.
Mommy sighs and pushes her plate away. Her eyes lift, darting over to the window. “He’s my boyfriend.”
“Like Yeo? Yeo is my boyfriend.”
Grandma chuckles. “Yeo is your boy friend. I think your momma’s boyfriend is something altogether different, though.”
I frown. “I don’t understand, Mommy.”
Mommy turns and regards me with a shy smile. “I like him. We go on dates. He’s nice to me. Sometimes we kiss.” She scrunches up her nose to tease me at the last part but it makes my stomach hurt.
“Will he kiss me?” Tears well in my eyes. I want Yeo or Bones or Grandma to tell me everything is going to be okay.
“Well, it’s nothing serious but eventually, who knows? I might marry him. One never knows about these things and it’s certainly too early to tell but I really like Kevin. Perhaps one day he could be your stepdad.”
The chair from beneath me screeches against the hard wood floors as I stand. “No.”
Mommy glances at Grandma for a brief moment before regarding me with sad eyes. “Kady, not how you’re thinking and—”
“I don’t want him to come into my room, Mommy,” I tell her bravely, my tears staying in my eyes but just barely. “I don’t want another daddy.”
“Honey,” she tries but I cut her off.
“He already bruised you. Just like Daddy did! Daddy hurt you and then…then he hurt me…”
“It’s just a hickey—”
“Louise,” Grandma interjects, shooting her a stern look. My mother quiets and looks down at her lap. Then, Grandma turns toward me. “Nobody is hurting you in my house, pumpkin. Understand?”
I nod but am not convinced.
“Nobody will ever go into your room again,” she tells me firmly. “Are we clear, Kadence Marshall?”
Nodding once more, I sit and go back to picking at my green beans.
“So, how did the new job go?” Grandma asks Mommy, changing the subject.
My mind travels to Daddy. Whenever I’m lonely, it’s Daddy. When I’m scared, it’s Daddy. When I’m upset or angry, it’s Daddy.
Daddy. Daddy. Daddy.
“Kadence,” Grandma says softly.
Daddy. Daddy. Daddy.
“Kadence!” Grandma and Mommy’s voices fade out when I close my eyes. His eyes are in my mind, glaring at me. Accusing me. Hurting me.
No! No! No!
* * *
Yeo
Twelve years old…
“Would you like a slice of homemade lemon meringue pie?” Ruth questions, her wrinkled hands on her hips.
“Mom said dinner would be done in thirty minutes,” I tell her, my eyes scanning the living room looking for Kady or Bones. “But maybe just a small piece?”
Ruth chuckles. “Have a seat then. I’ll bring you some. Just don’t tell your momma.”
When she’s gone, I’m happy to see Bones walk into the room. The kid never wears a shirt. Ever. And today, he’s topless but he’s not his usual self. His shoulders are hunched and his smile is gone. I can sense he’s upset.
“Hey, Bones,” I say as I sit in Kady’s usual place at the table. My eyes fixate on a carving near her plate. It makes me shiver.
“Hey, Kitty Muncher.” His playfulness is a farce. I can see the sadness in his eyes. Fear maybe.
“Is Kady okay?”
He scowls and crawls onto the table. Once his legs are dangling over the edge beside me, he looks down at me and fingers the fresh grooves in the wood. “Kady’s never okay when Norman visits.”
Anger surges through me and I glare at him. “Did he hurt her?”
He shrugs. “Not like he’s done in the past. But he does scare the shit out of her.”
I glance over my shoulder looking to see if Ruth heard him cuss or not. She’s clanging away in the kitchen, so I’m guessing not because otherwise Bones would be sitting here with a bar of soap between his teeth.
“How do we get rid of him?” I question, anger bubbling up inside of me. “I hate him.”
He pokes at my side with his bare toe in an absent-minded way. “I don’t know.”
We’re both deep in thought—far too deep for an eleven and twelve-year-old—when Ruth arrives with two plates. One piled high with Cheetos for Bones and one with a sliver of pie for me.
“Is Kady, okay?” I ask her.
Her smile falls and she sets the plates down. She strokes the top of my head and then kisses Bones’s forehead. “She will be. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to lie down. Feeling a little winded today.”
When she leaves, I run my fingernail along the N carved into the table. Why does Ruth let him hurt her? Hasn’t he done enough for one lifetime?
I lift my gaze and meet the stormy eyes of Bones. “We have to get rid of him.”
“I could stab him,” Bones offers, yanking my fork from my grip with lightning speed and pressing it to the big vein at my neck for theatrics.
I snatch it from him and shake my head. “You can’t stab him or choke him or cut him or shoot him or any of those things. We have to be smart about this, Bones.”
He pops one of his Cheetos into his mouth and crunches loudly while he thinks, crumbs falling down his bare chest. Ruth should make him bathe. He’s dirty all over. “Right, smart. Let me think on it.”
“Don’t mention it to Kadence,
” I tell him in a low voice. “We’ll just handle the problem on our own. Together we can figure something out.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He slides off the table and smears a cheesy finger along my cheek. “You’re dirty, Kitty Muncher.”
I roll my eyes and swipe my cheek with the back of my hand. “I’m serious, Bones. And don’t do anything without me.”
His grunt of acceptance doesn’t convince me and worry floods through me. I’ll have to figure something out. Quickly.
Bones doesn’t exactly do anything right.
And this has to be exactly right.
* * *
Yeo
Present
Her slender leg propped up on the dash as the warm wind swirls in through the sunroof of my car is enough to distract me right through a stop sign. When she squeals and points to the sign we passed, I let out a sigh and pull over on the side of the road.
“Sorry,” I say, my eyes skittering over her smooth thigh to her cutoff shorts and then up her body to her face. “You distracted me.”
Her shiny pink lips quirk up into a cute smile. Crimson tinges her cheeks and she bats her eyes at me in a way that stirs my cock for the umpteenth time since I’ve been back home. “Sorry.”
I grin at her. “Don’t ever change, Kadydid. You’re perfect exactly how you are.”
Her eyes darken and she tears her gaze from mine to stare off toward the river. “Want to go see if the water’s warm yet?”
I’m hardly dressed for what I know will end up being a muddy endeavor, but she’s happy and relaxed and hopeful and I’ll dirty up every item of clothing I own just to keep her that way. “I thought you’d never ask.”
We climb out of the car and I catch her wrist before she gets too far away. She looks over her shoulder and light dances in her eyes.
“Come here,” I murmur before tugging her to me. She fits perfectly against my chest. I’ve missed holding her this way. A soft sigh of contentment escapes her. “I want to make you happy,” I whisper.
She hugs my middle. “You already do.”
