by Silla Webb
I won’t lie to myself and say I don’t feel a twinge of disappointment when I’m not greeted by Luke’s baby blues this morning. In fact, searching through my memory, on every occasion he’s ever spent the night watching over me from outside, he’s always there the next morning when I wake up. Waking up on the couch Wednesday morning only to find the swing empty when I walked outside with a cup of hot coffee for Luke was unsettling. I quickly pushed the swell of emotions down into the pit of my stomach, not allowing doubt to rear it’s ugly head. That was three days ago, and I haven’t heard a word from Luke since.
Turning back inside, I grab my phone from my purse checking to see if he’s called or at the very least sent me a text, but come up empty. Hesitantly, I dial his number and when the voicemail prompt answers instead, I press end on the screen quickly. I won’t allow this to hurt. I won’t crumble.
Shaking the negative thoughts that crawl into my mind, I jog up the stairs to wake the kids. It’s a beautiful Saturday morning and a day with my babies is just what I need. Braden wakes with ease, climbing from the bed the moment he hears me enter the room and stomps off toward the bathroom. Brailee…attempting to wake the dead would be an easier task. I pull on her arms, tickle her ribs and the arch of her feet. I yank her ankles to the edge of the bed, yet she’s dead to the world. Drool dribbles down her chin, evidence of her zombie-like sleep. Braden returns from the bathroom approaching the bed with a ninja-like grace. Drawing his arm from behind his back, he pumps the squirt bottle, spraying cold water directly in Brailee’s face. He’s such a no non-sense kid.
Brailee springs straight up in the bed, her jaw open wide in shock as she wipes to cold water from her face. Pants of panicked breathing laced with fury rush from her lungs followed by an overly dramatic shrill of anger. “You little brat! I’ll get you back!!” She yells, lurching off the bed and begins to chase Braden through the hallway and down the stairs. Little moments like these save my sanity. I let the twins run out of breath while I start breakfast, then we get ready for a long day at the ball field.
“Hey Evans, stop runnin’ every dang play up the center! You’re gettin’ your QB crushed, man!” Colton yells over the fence in the direction of the coach.
Kyle turns around, shooting a deadpan glare at Colton and says, “He can hold his own, Weston.” Colton laughs boisterously, to which Kyle then says, “Maybe we should get them pom poms outta Heidi Jo’s hands and suit her up. See if she can do any better.” He sneers with a cocky grin.
“It ain’t the player, it’s the coach. And by the way, my kid could dance circles around yours out there bellyachin’ around. Should we get his momma for him?” Colton chuckles and Kyle tosses a water bottle at him, laughing at his jib.
Colton walks around the fence, joining his old high school football buddy on the sideline as the team calls a time out. The team huddles together listening to Kyle explain the next play as Colton has scribbled it out on the dry erase board. Breaking their huddle, they rush back out to the field lining up for the play. Tyler, Kyle’s son calls “BLUE FORTY-THREE!” just as the center snaps the ball. He steps forward, then blitzes the nose guard rolling to the right where the defense has left a gaping hole.
The crowd of fans cheer and hoot spurring little Tyler Evans on as he digs his heels into the dirt roughly chugging down the field, then nose dives across the goal line for the first touchdown of the game. These kids have been pushing and shoving each other up and down the field for three full quarters, and finally our team – the Williamstown Wildcats have scored. These little boys have to be exhausted, I’m winded just watching them. How Ryleigh is sleeping through all of the commotion is beyond me. But she’s resting peacefully in her stroller with the umbrella shielding the warm sun from her view.
Colton’s grin is unbreakable. I’m sure he misses the Friday night lights. He winks back at Carly Jo as we sit on the sideline together watching the game. Her cheeks flush a bright red, as she grins back at him. Is it okay to be just a teensy tiny bit jealous of these two? I tell myself that love doesn’t exist, but it’s so hard to believe when I witness it every time I look at Carly and Colton.
“Momma, I’m bored! When can we go home?” Braden whines, stompin’ his foot in the dirt.
“Little man, it won’t be much longer, I promise. The game is almost over. Sit down and watch Sissy and Heidi Jo cheer.” Scrunching his face up, he kicks gravel as he mumbles under his breath in frustration. Braden hates sports, so having to attend Brailee’s cheer practices and games is pure torture. Picking up his Tonka trucks, he heads towards the dirt pile near the playground to play. Yeah, there is a dirt pile near the playground – we’re country folks…ain’t nothin’ more fun to a pack of boys than dirt and trucks.
“I meant to text ya last night and tell ya we’re cookin’ out tonight, but got sidetracked with a fussy Ryleigh.” Carly says, leaning into me.
“Poor baby, not sleepin’ well?”
“I’m worried she might have colic. Dr. Dizon said we may need to change the milk she’s on. Let’s hope not.” Carly says, worry filling her eyes. She had attempted to breast feed Ryleigh, but by the fourth day she called me in a panic because her nipples were dry and cracked. I told her that was common if Ryleigh wasn’t latching on well. She said Ryleigh was often fussy when she fed, so she was sure that must be the issue. I instructed her to reposition Ryleigh until she was feeding properly and to use a moisturizing ointment until her breast healed. Still unsure of my medical advice, Colton and I persuaded her that is was important for Ryleigh to get her momma’s milk since it was filled with the best nutrients. Reluctantly, Carly listened…for three more days. On day seven, her nipples were bleeding profusely and she simply couldn’t manage the pain from her swollen breast and the restless nights with a crying newborn.
“Some babies just have sensitive tummies, Carly. She’ll be okay.”
She shrugs, dismissing her concern. “So back to dinner, are ya in?”
“Yep. The kids wouldn’t pass up a weekend with Heidi Jo, you know this.”
The timer on the scoreboard ticks backwards from one minute to zero quickly. Roaring screams filter into the air as the players stop mid-motion, ripping their helmets off their heads. The cheerleaders file the sideline yelling their victory cheer as the Players line up to shake hands, showing their good sportsmanship. Noticing the game is finally over, Braden races over to me, Tonka trucks in hand, prepared to blow this Popsicle stand.
Once we arrive at Carly and Colton’s we jump into preparing everything for Colton to toss on the grill while the kids play out in the backyard.
“Burgers ready for the grill?” Colton asks when he steps through the back door.
“Just a minute, baby. Almost done.” Carly calls over her shoulder. “Oh hey, did you call Luke? I can’t believe he missed the girls’ first game.”
Colton eyes me suspiciously. “No, ain’t talked to him in a few days.”
“That’s strange. Savannah call him and tell him we’re cookin’ out.” Carly says over her shoulder. I open my mouth to speak but the words hitch in my throat. My eyes flutter nervously as I try to gain my composure, but I’m not exactly sure what it is that I’m feeling. Rejection? Abandonment?
“Uhm, I called him earlier this morning before the game. His number just goes to voicemail.” I cast my eyes downward, not wanting Colton to read the storm of emotions that wash over my eyes. I wish I could slip my veil in place once more, but it shattered, leaving me naked for the world to see.
“Colton, damn it I swear to God, if you lied to me about makin’ shit right with him, I’ll permanently hang your balls up in my damn office as Home frickin’ Interior, right on display for everyone to see.” Carly shouts across the kitchen throwing a balled up dish cloth at him.
“Carly Jo, I told ya, it’s behind us. Now drop it.” He warns her, his brow cocked up high.
“Wait, what happened?” I ask curiously. Luke seemed miles away when I talked to him late Wednesday night. Did
it have something to do with Colton?
“Nothin’, just frickin’ drop it.” Colton spits in Carly’s direction, refusing to look my way.
“Ahh, you know Colton, Savannah. He’s gotta sharp tongue.” She spits, glaring at Colton. “So, when did you talk to Luke last, Colton?”
Colton scrubs his hand over his unshaven face, shaking his head angrily. “Darlin’, we done discussed this.”
“Why are y’all handlin’ me with frickin’ kid gloves?” I burst out, not realizing the bitter tone in my voice. “Seriously, I’m not gonna fall apart. Sure, everything is shit right now, but if something’s happened, just say it.” Looking from Colton to Carly I can tell something went down, they’re both just being tight lipped about it.
“I pissed him off, Savannah. Stuck my nose where it didn’t belong. But it’s over with now. Everything’s fine.”
“So where’s Luke?”
“He’s ‘round, I’m sure.” Colton nods reassuringly.
I don’t argue any further. Pissed as I may be, what’s the point in it? Luke has no obligations with me, and whatever happened between he and Colton is their business. But I can’t help but wonder if their disagreement and Luke’s sudden disappearance had anything to do with me.
A thick tension lingers in the air for the remainder of the evening. I realize I’m not much company as I stare off blankly at the wall, lost in muddled thoughts. I try to bury it all down in the back of my mind, but the worry refuses to be dismissed. Carly carries on a one-sided conversation and mindlessly I hmm or nod just to appease her. But as usual, I carry my emotions openly for everyone to see. Once everyone has eaten and I’ve helped Carly clean the kitchen back up, I load the kids into the SUV and head home.
Sweet! Another sleepless night. Screw you insomnia! Screw you! After the twins passed out while I read their bedtime story, I crept down the stairs quietly. Snatching the package of Oreos from the cabinet, I pour a small glass of milk then make my way into the living room. I flick the TV onto Friends, but mute the volume so I can hear my surroundings clearly. Picking up my kindle I open Sinner by Katheryn Kiden, so I can finish the last few chapters. This book is twisted and depraved. I clutched the cushion of the couch each time the malice villain would claim another victim to harm, then once she was revealed I quickly decided I needed a Tara in my life. You know, a psycho ruthless bitch who gets her kicks while torturing those whose sins need cleansing. I could give her a nice – yet very specific little list – by little, I mean two…I’m sure she could accommodate them nicely, in a very sadistic manner.
Lost in the story, my heart lurches into my throat when I hear the wooden planks of the porch creak. Holding my breath I listen carefully, noticing the rattle of the swing chains. My heart gallops faster and I smile to myself knowing my Luke is back. Clutching my phone in my hand, I register the time and decide to wait five minutes before going outside to see Luke. I don’t want to appear too eager – or desperate. My heart skitters out of rhythm as the minutes tick by. Dragging in a few steady breaths, I climb off the couch with my phone in hand to make my way outside. Gripping the door knob in my hand, dread blankets over me and something tells me not to open the door, but I dismiss the feeling knowing it’s just Luke. Pulling the door open smoothly, I dip my chin to my chest to hide the blush that stains my cheeks.
Taking slow steps towards the swing my eyes ascend from the wood planks coming in contact with flawless black dress shoes. I pause in my steps and my eyes flutter up swiftly landing on the sinister grin of pure evil. Scrambling backwards to get inside, my pajama pants catch on a crooked nail and I crash to the floor in a loud harrumph. I open my mouth to scream, speak, anything but the words just hang captive in my throat. Sucking back a shaky breath of terror, tears fill my eyes as Drew leans forward revealing himself to me.
“Sweet, little Savannah.” He chuckles proudly as I whimper softly. “Now, now there little Sister. No need to panic. I’ve only come to check on you and my niece and nephew. It’s been a while, wouldn’t you say?” He smirks devilishly and I can distinctly see Daddy’s face staring back at me, only younger – darker. How I’ve never noticed it before now – the distinguishing resemblance he bares to Daddy escapes me. How did I never see it?
“Why so silent, Sis? You’ve never reacted this way to my presence before. You were always Drew this, Drew that. Hell, I often thought you were my biggest fan. What’s changed?” He chuckles again, sending reverberating tremors down my spine.
“Ll-leave.” I mutter as I dig my nails down into the strong wood, trying to gain my strength to stand.
“Leave? Why Savannah, I’ve just arrived. We have a lot to discuss, so get comfortable, won’t you?” He asks, but I can tell by his tone it’s not a question, but a demand.
I steel my spine and look at him confidently, trying to mask my fear. He knows it’s there – he can see it with his eyes, smell it even. He’s like the Big Bad Wolf ready to strip me-the poor defenseless Red Riding Hood of all that I love.
“I’ve been told Josh has refused to sign the Petition for Dissolution of Marriage, requesting you visit him in jail.” He states matter-of-factly. Drew’s a powerful man, it doesn’t take much to get whatever information he needs. I shake my head nervously. “I don’t think that would be very wise, Sis. Josh is uncontrollable and very dangerous. I’ll speak with James and have him see what he can do to encourage Josh to sign the divorce petition. However, I feel as if I’d be doing a great disservice as your brother by not protecting you from that sick bastard.” His right brow tips up and there it is again staring back at me, the face of my daddy – our daddy.
“Protect me?” I mumble, shocked when my voice finally breaks free. “It’s your fault, Drew, that I was subjected to that abuse. It’s your fault that my children nearly lost both of their parents.” Woah, where did you come from, Savannah? My inner voice speaks back to me and I’m as surprised as she is at my brazen statement. “So please, allow me to make it very clear that your protection is the very last thing that I need.”
Pushing up on quivering legs, I right myself, gaining a steady balance before taking small steps backwards towards the front door. Stepping across the threshold I immediately feel safer. I brace the door with my hand, slowly pushing it closed but Drew’s parting words taunt me.
“Savannah, heed my warning. I know what’s best.”
Chapter Eight
I wake with a start, my chest shaking uncontrollably with fear. My eyes scan the room quickly as I try to familiarize myself with my surroundings. This is getting old.
My eyes land on Brailee as she stands over the couch with her lips pursed together tightly, her arms crossed over her chest. Glaring at me disappointedly, she huffs out a gruff breath that blows her bangs out of her face. I smile up at her as I stretch my arms overhead, but she stares pointedly at me like I just chopped the head off her favorite Cabbage Patch doll. Sitting up, I pull the blanket around my legs and rub my face trying to wake myself up.
“Momma, we’re late.”
“Late? Late for what, Brailee?” I mutter sleepily.
“SCHOOL, Momma! Remember! It’s MONDAY!” She cried out overdramatically.
Jumping up from the couch, I stumble before gaining my balance then race up the stairs to wake Braden up. “He’s eatin’ cereal, Momma. Just hurry!” She screeches up the stairs, and although I can’t see her I know she’s tappin’ that little foot of hers. Little Miss Sass. Sweet God, she should’ve been Carly Jo’s daughter. I brush through my hair quickly then swipe at the blotchy mascara stains beneath my eyes before changing out of the pajamas I’ve been wearing since Saturday night.
Jogging down the stairs, Brailee and Braden are waiting by the front door impatiently. Without a word, I snatch the keys from the entryway table then pull the front door open slowly, peeking out before stepping onto the porch. Noticing the coast is clear, I hurry the twins out the front door then pull the door closed, locking it tightly behind me.
“Momma, you s
hould really be thinkin’ hard ‘bout an alarm clock, ya know.” Brailee tsks from the back seat.
“Brailee, you’re only twenty minutes late for school. Bein’ tardy ain’t never killed anyone, so chill out.” I warn her.
“Ain’t never killed nobody, but Mrs. Cumpton done told me that if I’m late anymore she’s takin’ my recess and that just ain’t fair!”
“Little lady, let me warn you now: if you keep up that sharp tongue you’re wielding, losing recess will be the least of your worries. Do you understand me, Brailee?”
Crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes drift into thin slits and she glowers back at me angrily. “Yes, ma’am.” She says, before muttering something else under her breath.
“Brailee, do you have something else to say?” I ask, knowing that I’ll regret hearing her answer. Brailee is never disrespectful, so something has to be gnawing at her for her to misbehave as she is.
Her nostrils flare as she exhales, her sweet delicate face distorting into the angry features her daddy wears. “I. WANT. MY. DADDY!” She grits out hatefully.
My heart stills. Approaching a broad shoulder alongside the road, I pull over slamming the SUV in park. Unlatching my seat belt I climb down from the vehicle, then open the back door in reach of Brailee. My brave little princess has held me up without faltering, lending me her strength to get through each day. To be so small, she’s a force to be reckoned with. So when her veil slips and her pain shines through, I know it’s bad. Really bad.
Releasing her seatbelt, she falls into my arms and melts against me. Her sobs are endless, dreadfully quiet and it pains me because all I can offer her is comfort. I know it’s hard for the twins to understand that one day Josh was there, the next he was gone with no hope in sight of seeing him again. I won’t make false promises that they’ll reunite with their daddy one day soon, because fact is – they won’t.
