by Freya Barker
He puts his hands beside my feet on the mattress, and pushes himself up, leaning in to press a kiss to my stomach. The fact he's still dressed makes me feel more naked than I already am. I quickly scoot up the bed, reach for the sheet and try to cover myself, which apparently is funny, judging by the soft chuckle.
"Tasted some of you, seen all of you, and I promise—there's not a part of you I don't like."
He pulls the sheet from my hands, and to my surprise, starts tucking me in. Lowering his head, he kisses me sweetly, the scent and taste of me lingering on his lips.
"Sleep tight." He brushes his hand lightly over my cheek before straightening up.
"But you haven't...what about you?"
"Don't worry about me." He runs his hand over my sheet-covered body, down to my feet, where he stops and faces me. "I've had an appetizer worth savouring before we move on to the main course."
I smile at the slightly cheesy analogy, but blush at the sentiment behind it. Admittedly, part of me considered this might be a one-time thing, given the circumstances, but Newt is clearly of a different mind. And fuck if I don't like that.
"I'm taking the dogs so you don't have to come by my place first. Bijou can hang with Bella in her crate tonight, and Boulder can crash with me." I smile at the picture he paints.
"Thank you."
"You're probably doing me a favour; I haven't slept properly since bringing Bella home, I'm hoping curled up with her sister, she'll make it through the night. As for Boulder in my bed—" he shrugs his shoulders, grinning, "—been a while since I've had good company in my bed, and he's a cheap date."
I'm still smiling when I hear the front door close, and moments later the car start up, my eyes already falling shut.
Newt
"Hop on up, buddy."
I have to pat the mattress twice before Boulder takes me up on the invitation.
The girls are snuggled up in Bella's crate, exhausted after a very exited and energetic reunion, which the older dog observed from a safe distance.
I quickly shoot off a text to Millie, asking how the movie was. I don't mention our furry visitors; she can be surprised when she gets here tomorrow. Her reply is immediate and puts my mind at ease.
Spiderman is DA BOMB!
Clearly my girl is in a good space tonight.
I shoot back a quick ILU before dropping my phone on the nightstand and turning off the light. Folding my arms behind my head, I close my eyes, listen to Boulder's soft snores, and let my mind wander to Freddy.
It wasn't really a conscious decision to make tonight all about her, but it felt right. Important. What she said about not having allowed herself to truly feel alive really resonated with me, but that wasn't the only reason I wanted to focus on her. It was also out of selfish motivations.
When I finally slide into her body, I want that to be a moment about her and me. Both of us.
It's not that I've been a choirboy exactly, but the truth is; sex was mostly easy because I was never invested enough. Never particularly concerned about what came next and only after the immediate gratification. Don't get me wrong, I've had relationships, but I'd usually go in looking no further than perhaps tomorrow. Never felt the urge to hook my cart to someone else's for the long haul.
My one, lifelong commitment to date is Millie. Everything stands and falls by her. Perhaps that's why this thing with Freddy feels different, more substantial. My daughter is very much a part of our connection, which is both awesome and scary. Especially under current circumstances.
Still, the bond we're building is something I want very much not to fuck up.
SEVENTEEN
Freddy
"Just change into this gown. Everything off, including jewelry. This here's your locker, and just hit the buzzer when you're ready. Dr. Stephens will be in shortly to talk over the procedure with you."
All of a sudden, the butterflies I was able to stave off, the entire drive up, make themselves known. The nurse pulls the door shut behind her and with shaking hands I start stripping down.
This is the worst part—this is when everything suddenly becomes all too real.
Last time I felt like this, I still had my mother, whose calming voice would drown out my inner panic, her soft hand holding mine. If ever there was a moment where her loss burned fresh, this would be it.
I'm aware I'm alone here by choice. Alex or Jane, even Newt, would have been here. All I would've had to do is ask, but I didn't. I regret it now, sitting in an empty hospital room, surrounded only by the smell of antiseptic.
"Ms. Marchand, are you ready?" The grey-haired man in blue surgical scrubs, who walks in the door, smiles kindly.
"I'm ready."
A lie. I'm not ready at all. Not for any of it.
-
"Newt?"
"Hey, how are you?" I hear some rustling, then a door open and close. "I just found a quiet place," he explains. "Was waiting for your call, everything okay?"
"I'm okay. A little tender, but that's all. It took a little longer than anticipated, because they wanted to take some more of the surrounding tissue for pathology. Anyway, I said I'd let you know when I was about to leave."
"Freddy..." The rumbled sound of my name is like an admonishing finger in my face, and I know what he's saying.
"I promise I'll be fine."
"You can still call Alex. Maybe just stay there for a night?"
"Newt, don't...I just want to come home."
The line is silent for a moment.
"All right. Then go straight home; I can bring over the dogs. And, honey? It becomes too much, you pull off the side of the road and call me. I'll come get you."
I have to swallow hard and steel my back before I answer.
"I will."
I can't wait to get home, to my animals, my Boulder; my faithful comfort.
Newt
Millie is in the kitchen when I come back inside, her head stuck in the fridge, holding the rapt attention of all three dogs close by.
"Better not be feeding them salami again," I warn her, after catching her feeding them off her plate at lunch.
I heard all about the good times they'd had at Jordan's when Jim dropped both kids off this morning. They were enthusiastically greeted by three rambunctious dogs, instead of just Bella. Whether the dogs, or the fun night before, Millie seems to be coming out of the dark funk she's been in.
It wasn't until they came inside when it started drizzling, that she asked about Freddy, wondering why the dogs were here. My girl is much too smart for her own good, and it took all I could muster to lie to her with a straight face.
That's when it hit me how devastating it would be for my daughter if something happened to Freddy. An unexpected friend she'd warily adopted into her very small circle. I suddenly had a better understanding of Freddy's motivation to keep this secret, at least for now.
"I won't," Millie assures me. "I'm just looking for something for us to eat—we're hungry."
Jordan, sitting on a stool at the counter, nods in agreement.
"We had lunch not two hours ago," I point out, which only earns me a couple of shrugs.
I know it's boredom. Kids play outside all morning and you have to virtually force food on them, then a change in the weather requires them to hang out inside, and all they think about is eating.
Needing a little distraction myself for the next couple of hours, I grab the box of Entenmann's donuts I hid in the small cupboard over the sink, for just such an occasion, and walk into the living room, kids and dogs following close on my heels.
"Hit up Netflix and pick us a movie," I instruct Jordan, tossing the remote at him. "Millie, can you grab the paper towels?"
Ten minutes later, I question my wisdom in letting the kid pick the movie. I thought Deadpool was going to be just another superhero movie, but there's been more bloodshed in the first few minutes than all superhero movies I've ever seen put together. It's clear Jordan's seen this flick before, but I glance over to check on
my daughter, who seems equally unfazed by the sheer amount of gore on the screen. Part of me wonders if I should veto Deadpool and pick something else, but then the humour draws me in.
An hour and forty-five minutes later, just as the last credits roll down the screen, a knock on the door announces Jim. I let Jordan open the door as I flick off the TV and clear the empty donut box off the table.
"Thanks," Jim says, as he walks into the kitchen. "Appreciate the help."
"No problem. They keep each other occupied. Jordan's a good kid."
"Yeah, he is." He glances inside where his son is sitting on the couch, tying his shoes. I can only guess at his thoughts as I watch regret mark his face. "I managed to get him into a summer camp for the next two weeks. His mother called out of the blue last night. She's moved in with a trucker in Badger's Corner she's apparently been carrying on with for over a year. Wants her stuff and Jordan. I told her where to shove it. I'm getting this sorted, but it's bound to get ugly. He's seen enough of that, so I want him somewhere safe where she can't get at him. Not gonna let him out of my sight until he's safely packed away at Camp Wenonah."
"Shit, man. I'm sorry." I clap the other man on the shoulder.
"Anyway, I'm telling you, because I don't know if she's gonna try and contact you, or even Millie. Best be forewarned than blindsided."
"Hey, I appreciate that. I'll keep an eye out, for sure, and if there's anything else I can do."
"Nah. You've done plenty. I just thought you should know. I don't plan on telling Jordan ‘til the last minute, so I'd appreciate it if you could keep it to yourself. At least for now. We'll grab a beer in town once I have this mess cleaned up."
"Sure thing. And that beer sounds good to me."
I didn't think much of him at first, but my respect for the guy is growing as I watch him gather up his son and walk out the door, his spine a little straighter.
"Millie?" I call out to my daughter after a quick glance at the clock. "Can you grab Bijou's leash? We've gotta drop off the dogs."
I'd planned on leaving Millie here, but I suddenly feel the need to keep her within reach. She doesn't complain as she gets up to do as I asked, and I quickly gather up Bella, who's almost asleep on my foot, and put her in the crate.
"Can I play with the kittens?" Millie asks, clipping herself in the seat belt.
"We'll see. I'm guessing Freddy's had a long drive, so she may just want to put up her feet."
"If she's tired, she'll need help with the animals. I bet George and Timber haven't been out all day, so they might want a run."
I press my lips together to avoid the smile that wants out. Fourteen years old and she can manipulate an opportunity like a grown-assed woman. I just repeat what I said earlier, "We'll see."
The driveway is empty when we get to her house. I didn't think to ask for a spare key when I took the dogs last night. I was too high on Freddy's soft, sated body. It had cost me—walking out of there with a raging hard-on chafing in my jeans—but fuck if I wasn't wearing a smile on my face.
"I'll go check the barn," Millie chirps, skipping off with Boulder close on her heels.
I'm surprised Bijou isn't trying to take off after them, but she follows me meekly, and curls up at my feet when I sit down on the porch and close the baby gate Freddy must've installed there, just for the pup. I'm sure her sister must've tuckered her out.
It's not long before I see Freddy's Matrix turn onto the property and I sigh in relief. It's short-lived though, when I see her slowly extract herself from behind the wheel. She's pale, showing every one of her years on her face, and the smile she throws me is plastered on. I hop over the gate and rush to take the duffel bag she's pulling from the car.
"I've got it." I gently take the bag from her and support her with an arm firmly around the small of her back, when Boulder comes charging from the barn, almost knocking her on her ass. Clearly he's not used to being away from her for too long. "Careful, bud," I caution him, when Millie joins us.
"Are you okay?"
Freddy, who hasn't said a word yet, answers my daughter immediately with a soft smile. "I'm fine, honey. Just a stinking headache from spending too much time in a hot car. Nothing a cold drink and a couple of ibuprofen won't fix."
Nice save, and one I plan to capitalize on.
"Sweet Pea, why don't you let those other two have a run? Keep an eye on them, while I get Freddy off her feet."
"Okay." She immediately takes off to the barn again, but this time Boulder sticks close to his mom. I'm a little thrown; not used to my daughter being this compliant, at least not in recent memory.
A soft snort sounds beside me when we start walking to the house.
"You look surprised she's so willing," she observes. "I don't make a habit inviting patients to my house. When I first asked Millie to come here, it was timing but I also had a feeling just hanging out with the animals would do her more good than talking in an office would. I'd noticed something in her interactions with Boulder. Much like I do, she related to him on a more instinctive level than she does with people. She is a poster child for the kind of work I do. The animals respond to her, as much as she responds to them. She hasn't really changed; she's just discovering a safe way to process her emotions. One that doesn't include harming herself or arguing with her father."
"You may have a point," I have to admit, dropping her bag at the bottom of the stairs before leading her to the couch, where she sits down gingerly, before bending down to give a whining Bijou her focus. Boulder lies down in the hallway, not requiring attention; apparently content in the knowledge his mistress is home.
Freddy
"Thanks." I smile tiredly when Newt hands me a cold glass of water. "Not sure why I'm so wiped. I didn't actually do much, other than sit in the car or lie in bed today."
"Stubborn," Newt mumbles, as he sits down on the coffee table across from me.
"Don't start. I'll be right as rain tomorrow."
He grins at the warning and proceeds to lean in for a soft kiss. Nice.
"Fine, but let me at least call for pizza. It's the least you can do for taking my sleep buddy back."
Now it's my turn to grin. "Snuggle up with Boulder, did you?"
"His steady snoring worked like a bottle of rye; knocked me right out." He puts a hand on my knee and squeezes lightly. "So how about it? Pizza?"
I'm not particularly hungry, but I know I should eat something, and pizza is easy. I'm not in the mood to cook anything. I feel like a dishrag. Just worn out, not only from the procedure, which despite the local anesthetic, left me tired, but also from the emotional drain. All I want to do is sleep.
"Sure," I answer, stifling a yawn.
When Newt pulls out his phone to place an order, I close my eyes. I plan just to give them a rest, as I listen to the deep cadence of his voice, but I wake up forty-five minutes later with the smell of hot cheese in my nose. Before my mind can process how hungry I am, my stomach rumbles loudly.
Instead of the kitchen, we all end up sitting in the living room, a plate on our laps and the dogs in close proximity, because you just never know. I notice Millie staring at me a few times, even though I do my best to convey a calm I don't feel. Amazing what an impact fatigue has on a state of mind: emotional chaos; that's the current condition inside my head.
I recognize impending depression when I see it, sleep being the preferred escape when the dark thoughts spin out of control.
"Tired?" Newt asks, when I stifle another yawn.
Millie is sitting on the floor, her favourite kitten, the runt of the litter in her lap, when her eyes shoot in my direction. I smile for her benefit before answering.
"A little."
"Why don't you hit the sack? Millie and I can make sure the animals are tucked away before we head out."
"They have names, Dad," the girl pipes up. "Why do you always lump them together? You talk about the dogs, the pig, the goat—you never call them by name."
I snicker at the incredulous
expression on Newt's face.
"There's how many animals altogether, Millie?"
"Twelve, counting the kittens."
"Those little things need names too?"
"Of course they do. Nebula, Storm, Loki, and this is Groot." She holds up the little squirming black and white.
"If I can't remember George or Larry, how am I supposed to remember those names? Most days I'm happy I can remember my own."
I flinch a little; Millie is the one who named them. I'd asked her the first time she came over, told her to take her time, and these were what she eventually came back with.
"They're Marvel characters your daughter picked out," I explain with a warning in my eyes.
"Right," he agrees quickly. "And lovely names they are, but give your old man a break, Sweet Pea. At least I remember the dogs, can I get some credit for that?"
Even Millie giggles at that, and Newt quickly ushers her to put the kitten back and help him tidy up. He manages to sneak a kiss when she isn't looking, and by the time the two head home, I'm ready for bed.
With Boulder snoring in his customary spot on the floor beside me, I pull the sheets over my head.
I fall asleep, a smile lingering on my lips.
EIGHTEEN
Newt
"Want to go for a spin on the lake?"
My daughter's been holed up in her room most of the past two days, only surfacing a couple of times to get something from the kitchen. She's been quiet since we left Freddy's place on Wednesday night. Maybe she picked up on something, she seems to have formed a close bond with her in the past month or so.
I called Freddy last night to see how she was doing. Well-rested, she mentioned, and she'd gone to work. I had to bite my tongue on that. Almost gave her my two cents' worth on how smart I thought that was, but remembered just in time that it's not really my place. She asked about Millie, suggested I drop her off on Saturday morning, which I said I'd do.
Our conversation was cut short when Bella came tearing past with Millie's board shorts she'd stolen from the laundry basket. I gave chase, with the echo of Freddy's laughter in my ears, and managed to corner her in the living room. By the time I wrangled them from Bell's razor-sharp little teeth, the shorts were toast. That didn't help my daughter's mood much either.
