Dear Everly, : a romance novel

by London Casey

  I took two steps and crouched down.

  How the hell could I shy away from my little girl? Especially when she was there for me. Not for herself. But for me.

  “Come here,” I whispered.

  Sadie hurried toward me and threw her arms around me. She smelled of sleep and the fruity kids shampoo I used in her hair for her nightly bath.

  “You know that dreams are just in your mind,” I whispered. “That when you wake up, they’re over. Then you get to go back to sleep and have new dreams.”

  “I know,” she whispered.

  Her head rested on my shoulder. Her body limp, tired, desperate for sleep.

  I knew the feeling.

  Slowly, I stood up and turned so I could see our reflection in the mirror.

  She had little curls in her hair. Some parts though looked straight, some parts curly, making her hair a mess to take care of. What the hell did I know about taking care of hair? I didn’t buy hair products. I was lucky if I washed my hair twice a week because I just didn’t give a damn. That, and I didn’t have time.

  The last time Sadie had a haircut…

  I swallowed hard.

  My fingers touched the ends of her hair. It was a connection thing, okay? Those ends were ones that her mother had brushed. So in some way it was like she was still there with us. And it always seemed the smallest things like that got to me. Yet there was a master bedroom down the hall that had been untouched since…

  “Daddy, can I just sleep here tonight?”

  “Sure,” I whispered.

  “Thanks.”

  Sadie would throw out those little words or one liners that made me wonder just how old she really was.

  I stepped back and sat down on the bed.

  I reached for my phone and got the screen to light up. It was three in the morning.

  I gently put Sadie down next to me and she tucked Bo to her chin, rubbing her nose against the unicorn horn. That was her comfort thing. That damned stuffed animal. The thing was old, dirty, and I washed it when it started to stink.

  Me? I was awake. I sat up in bed. I was trying to think about the work that needed to be done at the garage. Keep myself busy. Work hard. Make money. Take care of Sadie. Rinse and repeat until… when? Until Sadie was eighteen? Then what?

  I hated thinking about the future. I hated thinking about the past. I hated thinking about the present.

  I looked to my left and looked at Sadie as she slept. I pulled the covers up to her shoulders. I touched her hair again. I touched her face. She was perfect. From the second I saw the little speck on the first ultrasound picture, she was perfect. She took my world and kicked it. She turned everything upside down. She made me understand what love really means. Between her and her mother, they forever changed the way I approached life.

  I couldn’t stop staring.

  Sadie.

  (“I think I found the name. But I don’t want to tell anyone yet. I want to keep it a secret. I want to meet her first. I want her to be part of it. To hear her name spoken first between all of us. Okay? Please don’t get mad at me, Jake. Don’t look at me that way either. I’m serious. Why are you smiling? And don’t tell me I look beautiful either. I’m huge. I have stretch marks now. My ankles are swollen. I cry over the dumbest commercials…”)

  I took another drink of water.

  My alarm was going to go off at five. I thought about waking up then and going into the basement to work out. That was my sanctuary. Throwing weights around until my muscles hurt worse than my heart.

  But Sadie reached for me. Whether she meant to or not, checking for me.

  “I’m right here, sweetheart,” I whispered.

  Being a single father was one thing. Having the story behind it was another.

  The worst part though… something I could never admit…

  Sadie was the spitting image of her mother.

  Chapter Two

  PB Denied

  (Jake)

  I felt something slap my face. Over and over. I growled like a pissed off bear in hibernation and turned my head. I heard the sound of an explosion. A cartoon style explosion. My crusty eyes slowly opened and I knew right then I had been on a snooze bender. You know what that is, right? When you set an alarm but keep hitting snooze, even if you don’t realize you’re doing it. It was six-thirty in the morning. Ninety minutes past when I was supposed to be awake.

  Great.

  I turned my alarm off as it counted down to go off again.

  I rolled over and saw Sadie sitting up in bed, the TV remote in one hand and Bo in the other hand. She had the tip of the unicorn horn between her thumb and forefinger, rubbing vigorously (made me think of Everly and when she’d do that and tell me she was playing the world’s smallest violin for me…). She licked her bottom lip over and over, something she did when she was concentrating on something. Both things were just little tics that were comfort for her. Her way of grieving and her way of getting through life.

  “What are you watching?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” she said.

  I sat up a little and saw the cartoon on TV. Definitely not the stuff I used to watch as a kid. Then again, the cartoons I used to watch were insanely violent, characters smoking cigarettes and drinking whiskey, and so much more stuff that was planted into my young and innocent brain.

  “I’m running behind this morning,” I said.

  “You were snoring,” Sadie said. “You woke me up.”

  “I was snoring?”

  “Yeah.”

  “No way.”

  Sadie raised an eyebrow, going from 4 to 24 in a split second. Her lip curled a little. “Yeah, you were.”

  I laughed.

  My heart ached a little.

  Fuck, Everly, why aren’t you here to see this? To see her face. When she makes those faces… how am I going to keep doing this alone?

  I grabbed Sadie and tickled her.

  She let out a yelling scream.

  I grabbed the remote and turned the TV off.

  “Hey!” she said.

  “Pancakes or scrambled eggs?” I asked.

  “Cereal,” she said.

  “That’s it? A cold breakfast?”

  “You need to yell in the basement,” she said.

  “What?”

  “You do that in the morning. You yell in the basement.”

  “I don’t yell,” I said. “I exercise. I try to be healthy.”

  “You do yell.”

  “When the weights are too heavy,” I said.

  “So don’t make them heavy.”

  “If they aren’t heavy, I won’t get stronger. So I can do this…”

  I grabbed Sadie again and lifted her up. She let out another yell, laughing, her hair falling everywhere. I stood up and put her over my head.

  “Daddy!” she yelled, laughing.

  I slid Sadie to my back and made sure she was secure, her arms way too tight around my neck, the damn unicorn right under my nose. Its distinct smell made my nose wiggle. It needed to be washed again.

  “See?” I said. “Isn’t this fun?”

  “March!” she yelled. “Hurry! The bad guys are coming!”

  I looked back. There was a bed. A wall. A room. The guest room. But I blinked and switched on my imagination. We were in a forest. Tall trees. Scary trees. Noises all around. We had just stolen the special gold crown for the princess I was saving. But we weren’t alone. There were bad guys chasing us. Guys in black armor on black horses, with weapons. They wanted to knock me down and take the crown back. And take the princess.

  “They can’t get us!” I yelled and started to run forward.

  Yes, in this story, this six-thirty-five imagination thing, I was a talking horse, but I was saving the beautiful princess, Princess Sadie, so it was worth it.

  “They’re right behind us!” Sadie cried out as I turned to go down the stairs.

  I took my time on the stairs - safety first - but at the landing, I turned, dropped, and let
Sadie go. I looked left, right, then jumped into the living room. I grabbed two pillows off the couch and hurried back.

  “Take a shield,” I said to Sadie.

  Okay, now I had gone from a horse to a knight.

  I held the pillow out, blocking the arrows from the bad guys. Sadie called the shots. Telling me when to swing, shoot, yell, punch, fight.

  Finally, I dropped to my knees and threw my shield at the last bad guy.

  I looked back at her, eyes wide. “Well?”

  Sadie nodded. “You did good.”

  I burst into laughter.

  Sadie put her hand out. “Crown?”

  “Oh. Right.”

  I reached behind me and grabbed the pretend crown which was nothing but air. I handed it to Sadie and she placed it upon her head.

  I scooped her up, leaving the pillows behind, and carried her to the kitchen.

  “Dear Princess,” I said in a horrible English accent, “your seat awaits. Along with your meal to start your day.”

  “Okay, that’s enough,” Sadie said.

  Just like that. Done.

  I laughed again.

  Which was fine by me. It was too early for her to be awake, but she had an old soul. She went to bed early and woke up early. There was no changing it so I just went along with it.

  I poured her some cereal, used fat free milk, and peeled an orange for us to split. She ate a banana and asked for another bowl of cereal.

  Just after seven, she was fed and dressed.

  By seven-thirty we were in my truck, backing out of the driveway.

  I had this little habit of pausing at the end of the driveway, looking at the house. What was supposed to happen in the house. What it was supposed to be.

  The house on the left had been for sale for the last month. I saw a lot of people go in and out of there, some couples, some families, but the last week it had been quiet. Now I had the reason why. The FOR SALE sign was replaced with a SOLD sign.

  Great. New neighbors. New people to meet. So I could tell the story. And see their faces.

  “Daddy, why are you waiting? There’s no traffic coming.”

  I looked in the mirror at Sadie. I smiled. “Thanks for helping me, sweetheart.”

  I drove to the shop, like I always did, with Sadie. She was in a pre-k, daycare type program, but that didn’t start until nine. She was there from nine until noon and then I’d pick her up and drop her off at the babysitter’s. That, however, was only on Tuesday and Thursday. Monday, Wednesday, and Friday she stayed there until three. Those were long days for her, and me too. My life was working on cars, trucks, motorcycles, whatever, and then driving all over town to make sure Sadie was safe, fed, and happy.

  Mickey opened the shop at six on the dot. I used to get there at five-thirty and get a head start on things. But that was before…

  The main garage bay was open and Mickey stood there, sucking on a cigarette. The second he saw the truck, he quickly put the cigarette out. He waved his hands, blowing smoke into the air. He hurried to rush to a sink in the back of the garage to scrub his hands. Mickey shoved a mint in his mouth so his breath didn’t stink. It was like I was his father and he was a teenager trying to hide his habit.

  He did it out of respect for Sadie.

  Mickey was old enough to be my father and old enough to be Sadie’s grandfather. Mickey took me under his wing and between the two of us, we grew his garage and business. All he wanted was to have his business, his house, his life. Anything beyond that he kicked back to me. Without Mickey, I don’t know how the hell things would have ended up. He offered to sell me the business many times, but I wasn’t ready for that.

  I parked the truck, opened the back door and smiled at my daughter.

  “Do you have your play bag?” I asked.

  She grabbed a pink bag and smiled.

  “Crayons? Paper?”

  “Can I use your phone today?” she asked.

  “Yeah. Half hour though, okay? Don’t rot your eyes out.”

  “Rot my eyes out? Gross.”

  “Come here.”

  Sadie jumped from the truck into my arms.

  Her pink play bag and Bo in her arms.

  Mickey came charging from the garage. He was in a white t-shirt, stained with grease, his belly pushing against the shirt more than it did a few months ago. His jeans were ripped up, his hands stained a light shade of black, but the guy had muscle. He was built like an old school boxer type. I wouldn’t want to run into Mickey in a dark alley.

  “There they are,” he said. “My two favorites. Sadie and Bo.”

  “Thanks, Mick,” I said.

  Sadie giggled.

  “Hey, I got something for you,” Mickey said. “Come here, Sadie.”

  I put Sadie down.

  Mickey crouched.

  He reached into his pocket. “Check this out. Found it in a store. I was getting gas and got some lottery tickets. It’s a unicorn keychain.”

  “Wow,” Sadie said with a smile. “Thanks, Mickey.”

  The way Sadie said his name was too much for my heart. She split his name into two words. Mick-key. She used to just call him Key.

  “Daddy, what’s this?” Sadie asked.

  She turned the unicorn around and pointed to its backside.

  “Let me see that,” I said.

  I took the keychain and let out a groan. “Mick…”

  “What?” he asked, fighting to stand. “What is it?”

  I squeezed the body of the unicorn and a brown blob shot out the ass of the unicorn.

  Mickey’s eyes went wide. “Oh.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “Oh. The thing poops.”

  “It poops?” Sadie asked. “Unicorns don’t poop.”

  Me and Mickey laughed.

  “Unicorns don’t poop,” I said.

  “Come on, let’s get you a coffee,” Mickey said. “We have a full house today.”

  “Can I have coffee?” Sadie asked.

  “How about some milk?” Mickey asked.

  “And a cookie?”

  “That’s up to your dad,” Mickey said.

  Sadie looked up at me.

  I gave a nod. “Let’s just get to work here.”

  Mickey put his hand out and Sadie took it. I watched them walk away. The pink bag on Sadie’s back. Bo clutched tight to her right arm. Mickey standing like an aged, slightly hunched giant next to her.

  I leaned against my truck and sighed.

  I looked up. The sky was clear, blue, perfect.

  Everly… it wasn’t supposed to end up like this…

  I cleared my throat and blinked fast.

  I looked at the unicorn.

  I squeezed it.

  It took a shit…

  I opened the metal side door and smelled carpet cleaner, that fresh bathroom smell, concrete, and crayons. The walls were littered with decorations from all the kids from the classrooms. On the ceiling there were paper vines, birds, monkeys, even a sloth dangling dangerously close to my head. It was jungle month at the center.

  I turned the corner of the hallway and there was a paper boa constrictor with a red tongue staring at me.

  “I don’t like snakes,” Sadie whispered.

  “This guy’s friendly though,” I said.

  I reached up and touched the fake snake.

  Of course the damn thing peeled away from the wall and came swooping down at Sadie.

  She clutched my leg as though it were real.

  That’s when Miss Anderson came from the room. She was Sadie’s teacher. A younger woman, probably in her mid-twenties, amazing with Sadie and all the kids she taught and took care of on a daily basis. She had her hair pulled back and wore a long flower dress.

  She watched as I stuck the paper boa constrictor back to the wall.

  “Sadie,” she said. “And Mr…”

  “Jake,” I said.

  “Mr. Jake,” she said. “Can I borrow you for a second?”

  “Me?” I asked. “Yeah. Sure.�
�

  “I need help bringing a table into the room. We’re doing a special reading event today.” Miss Anderson looked at Sadie. “Why don’t you get settled in, Sadie? Okay?”

  Sadie nodded. She looked up at me. I always had to give her a nod. Like she needed my approval. Or maybe she was checking on me, making sure I was going to be okay without her.

  I followed Miss Anderson into a side room that was filled with supplies. Papers, crayons, markers, pencils, bins of arts and crafts stuff, giant rolls of different colored papers. Stacks of chairs, tables, and desks.

  She pointed to a round table. “That one will do. I’ll grab one end…”

  I grabbed the table and lifted. I wasn’t out to impress anyone but when I turned, her eyes were wide. I saw something in her eyes I didn’t like at all.

  Focus on the kids, Miss Anderson.

  I heard little bird type rumors that she had a crush on me but wasn’t sure how to approach someone like me. Someone like me. You know, I would have pegged it on the messy hair, the roughed up jeans, the muscles, or maybe the tattoos that took up more skin than showed clean skin. But I knew what it was about. Someone like me. Because I was fucking heartbroken still, over two years later.

  Not that Miss Anderson wasn’t pretty, but I had no intentions of being with anyone else, ever again. I knew what I wanted and I would never get it.

  “Lead the way,” I said.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m carrying it, aren’t I?”

  “Right.”

  I walked into the classroom and the entire class stopped. Kids stared at me like I was a monster. Mouths open, in total silence as I carried the table to a paper mache jungle tree. I put it where Miss Anderson said.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever heard them this quiet,” she said.

  I realized it was because of my arms and tattoos. I had read to the class before but I wore a button down shirt and had a little more of a cleaner look.

  “Whoa,” one boy said. “Sadie’s dad has marker on his arms. Cool.”

  “The best part, kid?” I said. “This marker doesn’t wash off.”

  The boy’s eyes went even wider.

  I had to admit, I sort of felt cool.

  Sadie unpacked her bag and when she put her little snack bag on the table, everyone jumped back and yelled. You would have sworn that damn boa constrictor in the hallway turned out to be real and slithered right out of her bag.