Holding a Hero

by Layne, Lyssa

  “I never would have pegged you for a farmer.” He smirked.

  Jackass. “Well, becoming a mom wasn’t exactly in my plans when Wyatt came along. I was basically your run-of-the-mill twenty-five-year-old with a ‘go with the flow and fly through life by the seat of my pants’ kind of attitude before him, so I was just slightly overwhelmed with the concept of being responsible for another human being. Sure, winging it had always worked for me, but I wasn’t about to take those kinds of chances with someone else’s life. Not when he wasn’t even old enough to have a say in it. Well, he wasn’t old enough to say anything at all.”

  “Aha. So your carefree lifestyle just went out the window.” He was grinning, but I got the distinct feeling he still totally understood what I was saying.

  “For sure. Gardettos and Red Bull for dinner were suddenly out. Fresh, whole and organic foods were in. Before I knew it, I was gardening and raising chickens. I’ve almost purchased a cow twice already, but Bobby keeps talking me out of it by driving me past a dairy farm. The stench always kills my cattle ambitions in the moment, but the effect seems to only be temporary.”

  Derek chuckled. “I don’t know. I’ve smelled a dairy farm or two. I think I’d give up milk before I adopted a cow.”

  “Sure, milk I could give up. But ice cream?”

  “You make your own ice cream, too?” He wasn’t laughing anymore.

  “Of course. Anyway, it’s all good. I can have my ice cream and eat it too, so to speak. Living out here in the boonies means I’m not the only pseudo farmer around and I’ve made friends with a few people who are more than happy to exchange fresh eggs for milk once or twice a week.”

  “Nice.” He turned his attention from the open green back to me. He was squinting from the sun in his eyes. “I don’t suppose you have any homemade ice cream on hand right now?”

  I twisted my mouth back and forth trying to decide on my answer. Then, tilting my head to the side, I taunted him in my most seductive tone, “I’ve got some rocky road. Made it just last night.”

  “You’re kidding.” His jaw dropped in disbelief. “That is my absolute favorite.”

  “Hm.” I shrugged. “Well, maybe once we get these tubs unloaded and the furniture put up in my shop, I’ll fix you a bowl.”

  He didn’t even answer. Just took off toward the trailer.

  It was unloaded in record time.

  ***

  Sitting inside Joss’s kitchen and peering around what I could see of her house, I really didn’t understand what she had found so impressive about my place. Her house was like living inside a piece of art. The place was warm and inviting, and yet so spectacularly unique that I felt completely engaged in my surroundings. Everywhere I looked, something else caught my eye. From the lighting dangling under the ceiling in the form of mason jars and paint cans, to the old wooden ladder she had hanging on the wall, now having been reincarnated as a bookshelf. Not to mention the sofa which was backed with a massive king-sized headboard. Hanging out in there made me feel a lot like I’d been dropped down the rabbit’s hole. But, you know…in a good way.

  “This is delicious. Seriously, Joss. I can’t stop eating.” I’d already made my way through two of the four scoops of ice cream she’d piled into my bowl after we came in to cool off. “What do you think, buddy? Best ice cream ever?”

  Wyatt was sitting in the chair beside me at the counter, sucking down his serving just as fast as I was. “Uh-huh. The bestest.” His chocolate-covered mouth was drawn up in the biggest smile I’d ever seen.

  “Yeah, okay,” Joss mocked us. “I see the sugar high is already kicking in for the both of you.”

  “I don’t know Wacko-doodle, you do make pretty good ice cream.” Her Aunt Deb. Aside from introducing herself, she hadn’t said much else since we’d come into the house, although I got the distinct feeling I was being observed from the moment she joined us.

  “I’m sorry. Wacko-doodle?” I furrowed my brow trying to sustain a serious expression, but my mouth was giving me away as it continuously jerked, desperate to break into a grin.

  “It’s a term of endearment,” Joss replied haughtily, staring me down past the tip of her nose and daring me to pursue further clarification.

  “Yes, it sounds very endearing.” I shoved another spoonful of ice cream into my mouth to keep from saying anything else. It didn’t work. “Tell me, how did you acquire such a charming nickname?”

  “That is none of your business.” She spun around on her heel and busied herself by putting away what remained of the ice cream.

  Aunt Deb, who had been watching and listening, suddenly chimed in, “I’ll tell you.”

  Joss glared at her, looking back over her shoulder, but her aunt wasn’t fazed by it in the least.

  “What? It’s my story anyway.” Deb pulled up a stool beside me and settled in. “See all the crap she has around here? Not a damn thing is being used as it was intended. Well, it’s always been this way. Even as a kid you’d find her sitting in her room playing with the most random things. One time I walked in and found her wearing my bra on her head as a helmet, along with goggles she’d made by cutting the bottoms off of two plastic cups, using a bread tie for a nose piece and tying the whole thing around her head with some old Christmas ribbon she’d found stashed in a drawer of lost things. She was dressed from head to toe in a pair of her father’s old military coveralls and sitting in the center of an empty laundry basket while holding a candelabra in her lap, which naturally she was using as a tiller to steer her imaginary airplane.” She paused momentarily, like she was vividly remembering the view, and then continued, “Wacko-doodle was just the nicest thing I could think of when I saw her that day.”

  Since Deb was cracking up, I made no efforts to hide my reaction this time around. The two of us were laughing loudly, with Wyatt giggling on pure principal, while Joss proceeded to ignore us.

  “You guys about done yet?” she scowled.

  “Oh, Doodle, come on, don’t be such a sourpuss.” Deb slid from her seat and went to lay a kiss on Joss’s cheek, still chuckling to herself.

  “Yeah, Doodle.” I knew I was pushing my luck. “It’s not like we’re laughing at you.”

  “It’s not? It kind of feels like you are.”

  “Hm. Maybe we are then.” Slowly I was starting to reign myself in again.

  “Mommy-doodle.” Wyatt giggled, covering his mouth with his little hands.

  Even Joss burst out laughing after that.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “It was weird, right?” I cleared the last of the dishes. Derek had only just left. Somehow ice cream had led to a game of Go Fish which inevitably had brought on a rematch…and another. Before we knew it, dinner time had rolled around and Wyatt had invited him to stay. I’m sure he’d only said yes for the sake of my kid. Why else would a single, attractive thirty-something year old man stick around on a Saturday night for a meal of mac ‘n cheese with corn on the cob? Surely he had more exciting things on his agenda than that.

  “What was weird?” Aunt Deb looked over from where she was bent down in front of the open dishwasher, filling it with the night’s plates and silverware.

  “Derek. Being here. All fucking day.” I felt my eyes go wide. I was being dramatic. Knowing it and stopping it were two completely different things though.

  She shrugged. “I didn’t think it was weird at all. In fact, I thought it felt completely normal. This is what it’s supposed to feel like.”

  I stopped in place. “What does that mean?”

  “It means if, someday, you happen to choose to give up on this crazy, warped idea that you have to do everything yourself, and perhaps even go so far as to get married – bear with me here, I know it’s a stretch and strictly hypothetical – then this would be exactly what life would be like. It would be normal. You just think it’s weird because your life isn’t the norm.”

  I clenched my jaw and fought the urge to roll my eyes back into my skull. “Pretty sure I’m n
ot the only single mom out there.”

  Aunt Deb placed the last plate into the bottom rack and then pulled up the door to shut it. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, and it has nothing to do with being a single mom.”

  I didn’t bother answering this time, mostly because I didn’t want to. This conversation was headed into repeat station and there were plenty of aspects of my life I didn’t care to rehash, so I switched gears completely.

  “You staying over tonight or heading home?” She had a small cottage about halfway between here and the city. It was actually the guest house on a much grander property owned by a couple of extremely wealthy snowbirds who spent half of the year up in New York. She’d scored the place for super cheap rent in exchange for keeping an eye on it while the owners were away.

  Deb glanced out the window and sighed. It was already pitch black out. “Might as well stay over. I’m in no mood to deal with the cows tonight.”

  One of the farmers up the road was having some severe fencing issues. Twice now, Deb had nearly had a run in with a cow who was standing in the middle of the road making no efforts to move out of the way of her oncoming vehicle. It was one thing during daylight hours, but another at night.

  “In that case, I’ll make the coffee.”

  She smiled. “I’ll get the cake.”

  Wyatt had been in bed for nearly an hour already and this was as close to a girl’s night out as Debbie and I tended to get. There would be coffee, cheesecake and a whole lot of Golden Girls re-runs until we both passed out. I’d told myself a few years back that the perfect slice of cheesecake paired with a delicious hot cup of coffee were better than anything a man could ever offer, but after spending the day with Derek, I was starting to see some serious fucking flaws in my theory.

  He had been more than just charming. He had been generous and kind – to my kid of all people. Watching Wyatt soak up all of Derek’s attention like it was water in the desert was enough to break my heart. The only father figure he’d ever had was Bobby, not that he wasn’t a great uncle, but he worked an insane amount of hours, making it hard for him to spend time with Wyatt on a regular basis.

  Realizing how much Wyatt needed to be around a man, and not having a fucking clue how to give that to him, was making me all kinds of crazy. On the one hand it made me want to call Derek and make plans for the following day and the day after that and the day after…never mind my feelings, Wyatt’s were definitely the ones weighing heaviest on my mind. But on the other hand, I was ready to pull the plug on the whole thing entirely. Ban Derek from my house. Never allow his and Wyatt’s paths to cross ever again. I mean, if my son could be so infatuated with him after just one day, what would happen after a couple of weeks, or even months? And then, how heartbroken would he be when Derek suddenly disappeared again?

  “Okay, what’s wrong?” Deb’s voice cut through my thoughts.

  “Nothing. Why would anything be wrong?” I shrugged my shoulders, trying to back up my casual tone.

  “Because I muted the TV five minutes ago and you’re still staring straight at it like nothing has happened.”

  Shit. “Oh.”

  “Yeah, oh. So, spill it. Is it Derek or Travis?”

  Double shit. I’d feel like an ass now saying it was Derek when I had far more pressing Travis matters to monopolize my thoughts. Which they had, all week. Until today. Until Derek.

  “It’s Wyatt.” It was. And Derek. But this way made me feel like less of a crappy mother.

  “Wyatt? Why? He’s perfectly fine. Healthy, happy and smart. What’s there to worry about?”

  She didn’t get it.

  “Just, I don’t know…seeing him with Derek. Realizing that he doesn’t have a dad. Knowing that there are things about growing up to be a man I can’t teach him. The injustice of him being saddled with a father like Travis who could only do more harm than good. It’s all kinds of crystal clear now, whereas before I was able to keep things kind of blurred…and in the background via denial. Denial has abandoned me and I’m not happy about it.” I pouted like a five-year-old.

  “Doodle, there’s no question Wyatt got the shit end of the stick early on in life. But then, he got you. You have been everything to that little boy and he is growing up to be this delightful, beautiful little person because of it. And if you decide to stay closed off and single for the rest of your life,” she made a face, “then he’ll still grow up to be a good and decent man, because of you.”

  Aunt Deb had a way of putting things into perspective. She was right. If there was one thing in my life I was always proud of, it was Wyatt. Maybe she was off on just how much she thought my parenting played a role in his awesomeness, but the point was, he would grow up to be amazing no matter what I did to fuck things up along the way.

  Of course I also couldn’t ignore the fact that I probably wouldn’t be single for the next fourteen years of my life. I mean, I was only twenty-nine. I was in the prime of my life for crying out loud. And it wasn’t like I’d gone out of my way to be single all this time. It just sort of happened…and now I wasn’t sure how to make it un-happen.

  While I spent the remainder of the night pondering this slight predicament, come morning it was all forgotten when I opened the door to find a process server standing on the other side, holding out a manila envelope for me to take.

  Things went from stressful to full on nightmarish when I read the papers inside. Travis was taking me back to court. And he was going for full custody. Worse, he was trying to have my rights terminated all together. For the last week I’d told myself every day, all day long, that it would never come this far. No judge on earth would entertain any such requests.

  Apparently, I was lying to myself.

  After another week of non-stop phone calls and meetings with my lawyers (most of which had been more like surprise visits to her office) I was walking back into that courtroom.

  This time, we had a different judge. Apparently Judge Harrows, who had overseen our case before, had retired two years ago. This new twist in my fate was enough to send me into a full-on tizzy, but I kept it together and marched on until I reached my seat at the front of the room beside Diane.

  The hearing was preliminary. Nothing would be decided today. Mostly, it was a matter of Travis’s lawyer presenting his case and why he had decided to bring us all together again after nearly four years of blissful peace.

  His lawyer, an older guy with white hair and a full beard, who surprisingly enough looked nothing like Santa Claus, gave a pretty boring speech for about ten minutes, citing all of the reasons Travis had been victimized by me and the system and how we were the big bad monsters who had stolen his son right out from under him. I did my best to tune him out altogether, just to keep from laughing loudly at half the shit he said. Then, he got to the point.

  “Your honor, the reasons the courts believed they had three years ago for making their decisions simply no longer exist. My client is a good man and a good father, which has been proven in the last year since he married his wife and became a father to her two children. He has a good job with a steady income. He can offer his son the kind of security Joss Kelley clearly cannot. She is a single woman in her twenties, who by her own admittance has never had a consistent partner. She also has a spotty work history and an income which fluctuates from month to month. I ask you, your honor, where is the stability in that?”

  The words hit me like a fucking freight train. Three years ago, the fact that I was single and worked from home had been to my advantage. There’d been nothing keeping me from committing myself one hundred percent to being Wyatt’s mother, which was precisely what had happened. Now, suddenly, these were my biggest faults. I was unmarried. I worked for myself. I could hear myself thinking those words the way he had said them, and I knew what they had sounded like to the judge. I was fucked.

  My attorney got to her feet. “Your honor, I object. Suggesting that my client isn’t providing a stable and secure home for her son due to her mar
ital status is preposterous at best.”

  “He’s my son,” Travis said snidely, but his lawyer was already leaning back to shush him.

  The judge, who had been listening with a blank expression the entire time, finally decided to speak.

  “While I can’t say I agree with counsel’s theories of what does and does not make for a competent parent, I have heard enough here to revisit the case. We’ll reconvene in thirty days to begin the custody hearing of Wyatt Leroux.”

  And that was it. The beginning of hell.

  ***

  It had been over a week since I’d seen Joss. I’d tried calling several times but got nothing except her voicemail every time. As per her instructions, I had not left any messages. I was starting to feel like a fucking stalker with all this calling and hanging up shit. Unfortunately, that didn’t stop me from taking things up a notch by questioning her brother. It was hard not to hear a whiny chick voice in my head going, “But Bobby…why isn’t she calling me?” as I strolled up to the bar where he was working.

  “Hey man. Haven’t seen your sister around in a while. She still working on that furniture of yours?” It sounded casual. Nonchalant. Like I didn’t really give a shit.

  No…no, it didn’t.

  Bobby eyed me over the spread of half empty liquor bottles he had lined up all across the counter. Monday was inventory day.

  “Yeah. She’s still working on it.” He picked up two bottles of Jack and began to marry them into one. Entirely illegal, but not exactly an uncommon practice.

  “Huh. Well, you can tell her I’ll have the floor done in here by the end of the week if she wants to start dropping stuff off.” I could probably be done by Thursday if I moved some things around.