by K. M. Galvin
We lie there quietly before I confess what happened earlier. “Your mother offered me money to disappear.”
East stiffens behind me and it so quiet for such a long time that I startle when he finally speaks. “How much am I worth to her?”
“You mean what’s your bride price?” I joke, trying to lighten the mood slightly. I don’t want him and his mother to fight, but I refuse to lie to him about this, even a lie of omission.
“Are you going to marry me then?” he teases, laughing when I freeze against him. “I’m kidding, baby. We won’t get married until you’re ready”
I wheeze a breath and turn towards him to see if he’s still teasing, wheezing again when I see how serious he looks. “You want to marry me?”
He shifts closer and places a kiss against my forehead. “One day.”
“We’re not even dating, East!” I exclaim.
He shrugs indifferently. “Seems a bit superfluous at this point. I mean, I’ve spent over a month with you and only you. You either love or hate a person after that.”
“You love me?” I squeak, nearly simultaneously filled with the need to squeal in happiness and puke everywhere.
Nuzzling his nose against mine, he says simply, “I love you.”
“What if I took the money?!” I cry, tears of happiness filling my eyes.
“Then I would suggest we use it for the wedding as a big fuck you to my mother, because there is no way you’re disappearing out of my life again. Once was enough.”
I gulp, absurdly pleased, but—“What about Henry?”
“That fact that you ask is enough to tell me that you’ll do anything to make sure my son is loved and cared for. He’s already half in love with you.”
“But where will we live?” I ask, head spinning.
“Can you do me a favor before you overthink things?” He smiles, kissing me again.
“What?” I gasp, hysterical happiness coloring my voice.
“Can you tell me you love me?” He smiles.
Laughing quietly, I kiss him again. “I love you too.”
The next morning, I woke up after the first full night’s sleep in ages. Whether it was because we spent hours making love or just having him beside me, I slept soundly. I’m grateful for it, regardless of how needy it makes me.
Turning over, I nudge East’s arm off my waist, waking him up. I settle my hands under my cheek and watch as he stretches before blinking his eyes open to find me staring at him like a total weirdo. Instead of drawing away, East smiles and scoots closer so we’re sharing the same pillow.
“I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed waking up with you next to me.” He tucks some of my hair behind my ear.
“You don’t have to.”
Suddenly the door is flung open and I’m sending a prayer to the Gods that I had the foresight to make us throw on pajamas after we made love the last time.
Henry comes flying into the room, a piece of bacon gripped tight in his hand, and throws himself at us.
“Morning! Breakfast is ready, are you coming?” Henry bites his bacon, spraying bits everywhere. Blinkingly, I glance from him to East, uncertain how to proceed. This is the first time Henry is seeing us together like this, as more than friends. Kids aren’t stupid; he must have an inkling as to what this means.
East is smiling at the picture we make. Us under the covers, Henry lying between us, it’s all very familial, cozy like we do this every morning.
“Hey, uh, Hen?” I hesitate, waiting for East to step in, but he’s apparently done with the heavy lifting in this relationship for the time being. Getting me to admit out loud to loving him took a lot out of him.
“Yeah?” He sprays food at my face mid-chew.
Scrunching my face, I say, “Chew with your mouth closed, you’re not a cow.” I bite my lip…how to proceed with a six-year-old? ”Are you ok with your dad and I being together?”
He rips another piece off and blinks owlish at me, slight confusion on his face. He looks to his father for help, but finding none there, he turns back. “Sure. You can have sleepovers and we can go to the movies. You can be my best friend and take me to he museum.”
“You’re ok if I’m in your life more permanently?”
“You already are in my life,” he says so patiently I feel totally idiotic.
Realizing this is the best it’s going to get, I let it go. If he has questions later, we’ll tackle them then. “Ok. We’ll be down in a few. We need to get dressed first.”
Henry nods, climbs off the bed, and takes off down the hallway, yelling for Carter.
“That went well?” I fling the covers off and sit up, still looking towards the empty doorway.
East leans up, kissing my shoulder before heading towards his bag. “How did you think it was going to go? He’s six.”
“Yeah, but I don’t want him to resent me coming here or thinking I’m replacing his mom.”
“Have to have a mom to replace. That woman has done nothing for him but birth him. She’s never been in the picture, Taylor.”
“So what? She gives birth, tries to get you to marry her, and leaves when you don’t?” I ask; it seems a little implausible. This isn’t a daytime soap.
“She only left after my parents paid her off and made her sign an NDA with explicit instruction to never contact us again or payment would be voided.”
“Seems familiar,” I say sarcastically, thinking of his mother.
East shoots me a look as he shrugs on his shirt. “I will be having a word with her before we leave.”
I hold up my hands. “As long as you keep me out of it.”
I slip on a sweater dress, my dad’s old army green utility jacket, and some boots before heading down, leaving East behind me.
Carter meets me at the top of the stairs and takes my bag. “I heard you had a run-in with the wicked witch.” He waves a hand for me to go first.
Rolling my eyes, I ask, “How did you already hear that? And you call you mother that?”
“My spidey sense told me something was up last night. That, and my mother interrogated me about you after dinner.”
“Good Lord. Is this what I get to look forward to?” I hit the bottom of the stairs and wait for Carter to pull up next to me.
“She’s protective.”
“Protective, my ass. She’s a—”
“I’m a what, Ms. McKay?” Helena interrupts, and my eyes widen with panic at Carter before turning to her.
“A mother. Of course you’re protective.” I smile innocently.
“Hmm.” She raises a brow and looks me up and down before turning on her heel and heading back into the dining room. “Don’t dawdle, Ms. McKay. Breakfast has already gone cold as you laze abed.”
I snort and glare at the laughing Carter. “Laze abed? It’s eight in the morning. Jesus!”
I stomp into the dining room and take the seat next to Henry, farthest away from Helena. So what if I’m using a six-year-old as a buffer? Henry excels at buffering.
I take a couple pieces of toast and spread the jam housed in a crystal bowl on them. Crystal bowls at breakfast. Dad would have scoffed at the ostentatiousness.
I take my first bite when the so-called wicked witch speaks again. “Though you are not at all what I would have imagined for my eldest and are clearly very rough around the edges, Carter speaks highly of you and he’s much too impatient to bother with lying.”
“Thank you, Mother.” Carter grins as he enters sans suitcases and takes the seat opposite of me.
“My point is that Carter and my private investigator give me the impression that you are a good, honest, and hardworking woman. Henry seems to like you and Easton obviously cares.”
I stare at her openmouthed, is this supposed to be a compliment to my character? She mentioned a private investigator!
“Close your mouth, dear. Open mouths are invitations for something to come in,” Helena says smartly and I blink. Was that vulgar or is my mind just always in the gutter?
“Glad she has your approval, Mother,” East says as he comes into the room, kissing Henry’s head before giving me the same treatment and sitting next to his brother.
Carter bends his head down. “Don’t forget me, East.”
East rolls his eyes and knocks his knuckles against his twin’s head instead. “Hurry up and eat; car pulls out in twenty minutes. We have to get on the road before the party tonight.”
“Your father and I will be heading up around dinnertime, darling.” Helena grimaces at the mention of her husband. What the hell kind of relationship do those two have?
“Fine, but before we go, you and I need to have a chat,” he says with finality.
Helena nods as if she’s expecting this and Carter waggles his eyebrows across from me. Idiot. I finish my toast quickly and gulp down my coffee. Not nearly enough to hold me over, but I plan on making East stop at Dunkin’ Donuts.
I notice Henry’s done eating and latch onto the excuse. “I’m going to make sure Henry is all packed and ready to go. Helena, it was…well, I can’t say a pleasure, but it was interesting. I suppose I’ll see you tonight.” She lifts her tea cup in acknowledgment and I practically yank Henry up from his chair. “Come on, Hen!”
I grab his hand the moment he’s out of his chair and speed walk out of the room.
WHEN I FIRST CAME BACK, everything overwhelmed me. Even in my small town, I found myself startled by once familiar noises and blinded by the terrain of my birthplace. Now, as we ride through the packed city streets, I wonder what that was like for East with the constant buzz in NYC, the astringent smells, the pace…not to mention the fact that the media was up his ass.
It makes me wish I could go back and protect him. I’m angry that my first instinct since everything happened was to run.
“Give yourself a break, Taylor.” East locks eyes with mine in the rearview mirror, and I blush.
“You don’t even know what I’m thinking about,” I counter, turning to watch the rain glide down the window.
“I always know what you’re thinking,” he says smugly before turning down the side street of a massive brownstone.
“Dad…” Henry says hesitantly and I turn towards him, shrinking back when I see someone outside his window snapping photos.
“Why won’t they leave you alone?” My voice rises with my panic and I unbuckle to scoot closer to Henry.
“What we’ve been through is interesting,” East says spitefully. Clearly he doesn’t share the same sentiment. I’m sure to others it is, but for us it’s traumatic and private.
“I’ll handle this,” Carter says in a scarily calm voice and opens his door. “You are on private—” The door closing cuts off the rest of what he’s saying. It’s clear with his wide hand gestures and the scared look on the photographer’s face that he’s intimidated.
“Is it always like this?” I chew on my bottom lip. I know this happened to him; I’ve seen him on the news and on the cover of magazines numerous times, but this is a little unreal.
“In the beginning, yes. I thought it would be better to get ahead of the story before everyone else could put their spin on it.” East runs his hands through his hair roughly as he watches his twin. “I rarely see them, especially outside my house, now. He may have caught wind of the party tonight.”
Finally the photographer leaves and East exits the car, moving around to the side to unbuckle Henry from his booster seat. I’m the last to leave the car, waiting until Carter knocks on my window and gives me the thumbs-up. I follow Carter inside and step into a beautiful, but clearly well-used kitchen.
With my hands behind my back, strangely afraid to touch anything and burst this fantasy bubble, I move into the living room. Two large brown leather couches take up most of the room and face a giant flat screen. Toys are strewn across the plush rug and framed photos of the three VanHouten boys line the built-in shelves.
It’s all very…normal.
Henry runs past me and clatters up the stairs, presumably to his room. East wraps his arms around my waist and kisses my neck briefly. “What were you expecting? You’re looking around like you can’t believe I live here.”
I muffle a laugh; I’ve done a lot of gawking the last few days. “I don’t. I expected some sleek bachelor pad in an expensive high rise. Not this family home. Not somewhere I’d—”
I cut myself off, afraid to insert myself here and seem too desperate despite all the assurances East has given me. Having lost so much, it’s hard to imagine I could be a part of this family.
He squeezes my waist. “When I first came back, I used to imagine you here. It was—” he pauses and swallows thickly before continuing, “—difficult. At first. I found myself not sleeping well, as you know, but probably the most difficult was going about my day without you. I found myself constantly searching for you. Back on the island, you were my only sounding board and comfort. I had come to rely on you so much just to keep myself from going insane with fear and boredom.”
“It was the same for me,” I admit softly, following as he grabs my hand and leads me up the stairs.
“Carter has the entire top floor, while Henry and I occupy this level.” East turns down a hallway, passing a room on the right. Clearly from the giggling and the dinosaur theme, it belongs to Henry.
We reach the end of the hallway and enter East’s room. A California king sits center against the opposite wall with a reclaimed wood headboard, a plush down comforter on top with large pillows create an inviting place to sleep. Floor-to-ceiling bay windows take up an entire side of the room. There’s little furniture, which becomes clear as to why when East disappears into a closet larger than my entire bedroom back home. He had no need for a dresser.
“What are you thinking? You’ve gone so quiet,” he notes, coming back out of the closet dressed in slacks and a dress shirt.
“I thought you always knew what I was thinking?” I smile cheekily before running my hand over his covers. “I really want to take a nap in this.”
His eyebrows rise as a familiar heat enters his eyes. “Do it. It’ll make me come home faster.”
“Are you going somewhere?”
“I have to go into the office for a little bit; Carter is going to stay here with you two. Henry is going to take a nap before lunch. We were up pretty late last night and he’ll be up late again tonight.” He buttons his cuffs and comes over to give me a slow kiss.
Groaning, I tug playfully on his pants. “Don’t go in, come lie down with me.”
Before East can open his mouth, Henry comes running into the room and hops on the bed, exactly how I wish I could have the moment I spotted it. “I’ll take a nap with you, Taylor!”
We fell asleep about an hour ago, when I’m startled awake by the sound of Henry screaming for his father.
“Daddy!” he screams, body thrashing and knocking the comforter off the both of us.
I sit up immediately and pull him into my arms, shushing him until he falls back asleep. The door opens and Carter stands in the doorway, concern falling away when he sees I settled Henry. He waves me forward and I gently place Henry on his pillow and crawl out of the bed, following him into the hallway.
“He does that less now, but still scares the fuck out of me.” Carter wipes his mouth nervously. “He used to scream every night for East.”
I sink against the wall, my heart breaking for the little boy.
“You know, the entire time we were—” I struggle to put it into terms, encapsulate what it’s like to be gone. “—he never stopped. Everything he did was to get back to you and that little guy in there.” I swallow thickly, ashamed at how selfish my needs had been on that island. “He had much more at stake—”
“Don’t do that Taylor.” Carter pats my arm. “You were already a part of us before you were ever found. Knowing that he had someone out there and then finding out what a godsend you truly were, well, you mean a lot to all of us.”
“Thanks. I guess I never thought of what i
t was like for everyone left behind. Surviving can be such a selfish thing, and seeing Henry call out like that really puts everything in perspective. East and I weren’t the only victims here.”
Carter nods thoughtfully. “It was tough, the not knowing, but we never gave up, either.”
“Taylor!” Henry’s little voice reaches us through the door.
My eyebrows rise with the curve of my lips as I say, “I’m being summoned.”
Carter’s hand stops me before I can go back in. “Listen, if this is all too much or you feel overwhelmed, let us know.”
I nod thankfully, though taken a bit aback. Seems like being able to read me is a talent both brothers possess. “I appreciate that, Carter.”
Carter walks down the hall and I turn to open the door, peeking my head in and smiling at the grinning little face nearly swallowed by the bed. “Hey there, chicken, did you sleep well?”
Henry yawns widely before reaching for me to pick him up. I don’t argue that he’s too big, instead turning around so I can give him a piggyback ride. Henry rests his head against mine and tightens his arms and legs as I stand up and make my way out of the room.
“I’m hungry,” he prompts sleepily, and I turn my path from the TV room East pointed out earlier to head downstairs into the kitchen.
“What do you feel like eating?” I ask, setting him down on the massive granite island in the center of the kitchen.
Henry points to the pantry and says, “Mac and cheese.”
Stomach growling in agreement, I open the pantry door and flip the light on, barking a laugh when I see the twenty or so boxes of mac and cheese. “Good God, is this a favorite or something?”
Henry giggles. “It’s the only thing Uncle Carter knows how to cook.”
“Excuse me, I also make great cereal,” Carter argues as he takes a seat on one of the barstools. He picks Henry up off the counter and sets him down on the stool next to him, “If you’re making lunch, Taylor, I’d love some mac and cheese.”
I nod and grab another box, shaking my head in amusement at the rest of the pantry’s contents. Just when I thought they were responsible adults, boxes of mac and cheese, cereal, toaster pastries, and junk food extinguish that idea.
