by S. L. Scott
Fuck. $300K to make something go away or to take control of something? What though? There’s no telling from what I know of her father. “What did your father have that was worth that amount of money that he was willing to sell?”
Shaking her head, she replies, “I don’t know, but we don’t have the money to return to this creep and we don’t know what he wants. We’re screwed.”
“How many times has he come around?”
“Twice.”
Standing up, I cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t want you going over there until this blows over.”
“Do you think it will? My father’s dead. He can’t collect, right?”
“Your father was a low life. We’d been dealing with him for months prior to his death. If there was something illegal or black market around, your dad had a hand in it.”
She comes around taking the trash with her to toss in the bin. On the other side of the island, she says, “Every day I wake up, I’m grateful he’s dead. You’ve seen my bedroom. I thank my lucky stars every night before bed.” And I thank my lucky stars that you still want to be with me, Dove. More than anything.
26
Clara
“Do you think you’ll ever tell Toby you’re his birth mom?”
“I worry it will hurt my mom and traumatize him. What would I say? I know you were raised as my brother but I’m your mother, and I don’t know who your father is?” I shouldn’t be sarcastic. Cruise has a right to ask the question. It’s only natural he would. He’s trying to figure out the future. But I worry he’ll see me differently and not love me. Not want me.
I drop the chip from my shoulder and relent to the guilt I feel. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be harsh. These questions have rolled around my head since before he was born. I don’t have the answers. I’m just taking things day by day. My mother is the only mother he’s known.”
“He’s attached to you.”
“He thinks I’m his sister. That’s natural.”
“No. I could see it when you held him and how you soothed him. He calmed because he trusts you. He loves you. Like a mother.”
Pushing off with my toes, we swing back and then forward again. I love sitting on the front porch. Other than my bedroom, it’s my favorite space of the house. “Like a sister. I don’t think uprooting him is the answer.”
“I’ll stand by you, no matter what you choose.”
I steal a glance at him, but it’s not the sympathetic look in his eyes that fills my chest with love, though that’s partially to blame. It’s that I know he means what he says. “How are you so ready to take on my problems?”
“Because Toby’s not a problem. He’s your son.”
My chest tightens, my hand sliding over my heart. “I feel like I’ve cried a million tears today, but hearing you say that makes me want to cry a million more.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to upset you.” Bringing me even closer, his arm tightens around me.
“I’m not upset. I’m just wondering if you’re my reward for surviving.”
He smiles as we swing like this conversation isn’t a confession of deeper hidden feelings. “I’ve wondered the same about you being in my life. Was I good enough that God showed mercy by sending one of his angels to Earth just for me? Are you my reward for surviving hell? I don’t know and I don’t want to question the universe for fear of losing you.”
“You can’t lose me, Cruise.”
I’m kissed on the side of the head. “Thank you for . . . caring about me.”
“You make it easy.” I love the gold and varying shades of browns that make up his eyes. Like the man, they’re complicated to describe but easy to admire. I love you, Cruise Cristley, I silently send my words to him through a kiss on his cheek.
But like all good things, bigger issues than my feelings need to be dealt with. I say, “I worry about Toby.”
“Is he safe around Vaughn?”
He knows how to stab me where I fear the most. “Safe?” I never even questioned his safety. “Vaughn won’t hurt him. He’s a boy.”
“So your father trained Vaughn to hate women?”
“My father believed women were lesser humans than men. I was taught that we are on Earth only to serve men and their needs. Women are nothing more than property.”
Vaughn’s words still send chills down my spine. “My comfort and my property.”
“I don’t have to tell you that’s not true, right?”
“I know now, but it took me a while to figure out that I am allowed to use my brain outside of school.”
“If I ever give you shit, don’t take it. Okay? You never have to kowtow to anyone. No one. You hear me, Dove. Not me. Not Vaughn. No one.”
Reaching over, I run my fingers over the back of his head. “You’ve never made me feel less in any way. Just because you’re a man doesn’t mean I lump you in with him. I don’t. I see movies, and shows, and the professors at Baynard, and you. I see good men exist.”
His hand rests on my leg. “Good.”
“As for Toby, I’m not really in a position to take care of him how he needs. My mom works part-time and can bring him with her. I’m still in my internship and taking classes.”
There’s sadness in his eyes when he glances my way. “It’s no secret that I’m adopted. That was a huge marketing tool for my father’s campaigns over the years, but the trip I took to New Haven is something I’ve yet to tell you about. I’ve kept it to myself until I could process more of what really happened. I didn’t tell anyone but my mom, because I thought she had the right to know prior if anything came of it. And Alex because he went with me.”
“He used to go by King, right?”
I chuckle. “Yeah, he used to. Alex is good these days.”
I nudge him and rest my head on his shoulder. His arm comes around me giving me peace on a day of chaos.
Cruise is all alpha male. He’s a hard body with a foul mouth. He’s hot-blooded with a temper to match. But he’s also gentle and kind and has this soft side that I wonder how often he shows. Maybe only to his mom and me, which is okay because I love it.
“What is it that you’ve been trying to process?”
“I found my birth mother in New Haven.”
He’s so open with me, my heart already his. “Oh my God, really?” I hug him from the side, holding him close.
I love the feel of his body giving in to a good chuckle. He says, “I wanted to tell you, but you’ve had so much of your own stuff happening, I didn’t feel it was right.”
“I wish you would have. This is important, and if it’s important to you, it’s important to me. How are you feeling about the trip? Did you meet her? Do you even want to talk about this? Sorry if I’m coming off too strong. I’m just so happy for you.”
Lowering his arm from my shoulders to around my waist, he pulls me close until I’m firmly seated on his lap. “Yes, I met her. It was surreal at first, seeing where I came from. Literally. I look like her.”
My smile grows as my heart feels his happiness.
He says, “She showed me photos of my birth father, and I can see parts of me in him, too. We’ll talk about this more later, but she told me why she gave me away. It wasn’t that I wasn’t wanted, and I think that was what I really needed to hear. Anyway, I’m not sure how my family will feel about this news, so I appreciate you being happy. It might be the only time I can enjoy it.”
“I am. I’m so happy for you. I can see how much this means to you. I can see the change . . . I don’t know, in your spirit.” I’m rambling. The lines in his brow aren’t as intense when he speaks. There’s no straight line to be found on his lips. A smile is begging to be seen. His happiness is contagious and makes me want to kiss him. I don’t because I want this moment to be only about him. “I can tell how much it means to you.”
“You’re right, Dove. I was unsettled. Something didn’t feel right. When I met you, so much of that gaping hole felt filled, but I knew I still needed an
swers to years’ worth of questions.” He smiles at me, and I know all is okay. He is okay.
“The family interview is tomorrow. I’ll be seeing them all, and I might tell them then.”
“I think you should. Don’t hide it. This is a great thing. Don’t let it get twisted. Enjoy it.”
“The interview is in New York. It’s supposed to be live. I hate doing live TV.”
“Why?”
“Because reporters never adhere to the guidelines. They want salacious headlines that will sell commercial slots. I’ve learned those come at the expense of our privacy.”
“That’s awful. Maybe you shouldn’t go.”
“I promised my mom I’d be there. I also told her it was the last time.”
“I’m glad. This is the life they chose. You shouldn’t have to still deal with it.” Sitting up, I lean back so I can see his face more clearly. “How long will you be gone?”
“In and out. My family doesn’t fly commercial and with so many schedules to coordinate, they promised to have us home by dinner.”
“That’s not too bad.”
“You’ve never had to spend five hours with my family.” He gives me a wink.
“True.” I stand and offer a hand. “I’m exhausted. I’ve cried enough tears to rival Niagara Falls.”
“We still need to talk about Vaughn.”
“That’s not a quick conversation. Can we table it until tomorrow?”
“If you feel we can then I’ll respect that.”
“I don’t know if we can, but tonight, for me, I need to.”
“Okay, but tomorrow we have to talk about it, after I get back from New York.”
“We will.”
We walk together into the house. This time he stops to lock the bolts and shut the curtains in the front window because we’re home. Home. Together. No one needs a quick escape. No one is leaving. Even though our problems still exist inside these walls as they did outside, I’m okay going to bed with where we are in our relationship.
Like the ground we walk on, we’re solid through and through.
We’re both exhausted. While we brush our teeth, I notice the dark circles under my eyes match his. His eyelids are heavier than usual, matching mine. Our posture isn’t perfect, but that’s what happens when life bears down on you.
We climb into bed and turn out the light. The stars come to life, glowing in the moonlight. When he outstretches his arm, I find my spot against his side and settle in for the night.
Just before midnight, he asks, “Why did you change your name?”
It’s a simple question only requiring a simple answer, but I still feel the need to explain because it’s Cruise asking. “I didn’t want anything to do with my father. He chose my first name. Hearing it so many times from his mouth . . . it was hard for that not to scar me. And that was his last name, not one I identify with. I want light and love in my life. Those names bring nothing but jet-black nightmares even in the middle of the day.”
“Why did you choose Clara Eckerd?”
I feel his fingers doodling on my hip. I recognize the figure eight he traces over and over again. “Clara means bright or clear. It was similar to my other name, so I felt I could adjust to responding easily enough, and I loved the thought of a clear slate with a bright future.”
“And Eckerd?”
“Sacred.”
“Sacred,” he repeats. I can almost hear the smile on his face when he says it again. “It’s beautiful and fits you.”
“Thank you.”
“I never told you how I got my nickname.”
Tilting my head up, I say, “How did you get the nickname, Cruise?”
“Alex used to say I took everything in stride. I shifted into cruise control and coasted.”
“I don’t think you’re coasting through life.”
“I was.” He kisses me. “I’m not anymore. I’ve never been more present than when I’m with you.”
“If I were a gear, what would I be?”
“Fourth is the fastest, but I’ve never wanted fast with you.” I smile as his hand glides up my waist to the sides of my breasts. “I always want slow.”
“Slow and steady wins the race.”
“And I intend to win every race with you.” In one swift move, he’s found his way right on top of me. He’s kissing me because . . . less talking.
Cruise looks up from his bowl of Lucky Charms, and says, “I don’t want you going over there until we figure out what’s going on with this debt situation.”
“I don’t plan to. I’ve been texting with my mom. She thinks Vaughn is stressed and is taking it out on me. She has nothing else to go off of.”
“He’s volatile. For some reason, it seems you’ve become his target. That means you need to stay out of his line of fire. Come sit. Come eat breakfast with me.”
The feet of the chair scrape across the floor when I pull it out, happy to have the early hours of quiet daybreak with him. He says, “I don’t like leaving you, especially right now. Come with me.”
Sitting with a bowl in front of me, and a spoon in hand, I wave it in the air in front of me. “I wish I could. I have to finish my student teaching and I have one class later today.”
“It was worth a shot. If you change your mind, I can swing by and pick you up on the way to the airport.”
“I want to be with you. I wish I could be there for you like you have been for me. Maybe if I call in sick—”
“No. You have commitments. Stick to them. Today is nothing I can’t handle. I want you there for purely selfish reasons. Your school and internship are more important. I’ll be back tonight anyway.”
“One more month and then I’m free to fly on that fancy family jet of yours whenever you want to whisk me away.” He laughs, and I love the light I see in his eyes.
I make him laugh, and I love that I can.
“Duly noted, Ms. Eckerd.”
27
Clara
Doesn’t matter what time of day it is, goodbyes suck.
Morning.
Noon.
Night.
I watch his car drive down the street until I can’t see it anymore. Cruise is heading to the penthouse to change clothes before he meets with his family at their compound—his word, not mine. He was given a strict dress code, which he must adhere to. I made him promise to send me pics. I love a great suit on a hot guy. And no one is hotter than my boyfriend.
After getting dressed and grabbing my bag, I head to Baynard Prep to serve my time. I love the grounds of this school and the facilities, but I don’t feel of much use here. The kids are so privileged that I don’t feel like I make any difference in their lives. I was drawn to teaching to help others, but truly, I’m not much help here. Fortunately the day doesn’t drag.
Midday, I receive a text from my mom: Can you babysit Toby for a few hours today? I was asked to fill in to lead the kindergarten graduation. I know it’s last minute, but I need the money and Toby will have a meltdown if he’s not fed on time.
I understand the feeling. My stomach is growling and between the hunger pangs and Cruise leaving, I want to melt down too.
Me: No worries. I’ll come to the school and pick him up after my class.
Mom: Thank you.
That was a quick reply.
With a granola bar I found in my purse shoved in my mouth, I park and rush across campus only to be surprised with a pop quiz. As soon as I finish, I turn it in and head back out. Checking my phone, I find a missed call and text that came in a half hour ago from Cruise making me smile and feel disappointed. I want to hear his voice but I don’t feel right calling when he’s with his family. He has enough to worry about than me being clingy.
Cruise: There’s a delay. Eat without me and I’ll come over after we land.
I stop when I reach my car and return his text: I can’t wait to see you. I’ll wait up.
It doesn’t take but fifteen minutes to reach the school where my mom is frantically setti
ng up chairs while Toby is teeter-totting around with one shoe on and one off. “Hi,” I say walking into the cafeteria where the ceremony will be held.
Wiping her brow, a big smile appears. “Hi, sweetheart. Thank you for helping me out of this pickle.”
“No problem.” I set my purse down and run up behind Toby who hasn’t spotted me yet. He turns around right when I’m about to tickle him and I say, “Boo!”
I’m greeted with squeals of delight as he runs into my arms. Picking him up, I swing him into the air just above my head and back down so he lands on his feet. “You are getting so big.”
He laughs and runs away, wanting me to chase him while mimicking me, “Big. Big. Goo.”
I squat so I’m eye level with my little blue-eyed cutie. “I think you mean goose. Duck, duck, goose.”
Seeing him for the first time after telling Cruise, my secret feels different. I feel lighter, less of a liar. For the first time, I can look at Toby without feeling guilt, or shame. I did nothing wrong. I gave him life. Me. Me . . . what an amazing thing to be responsible for, to be grateful for. Cruise has opened my eyes, and now seeing my son, I feel nothing but love and pride.
I feel my mom’s comforting hand on my back. “Are you doing okay?”
“Closer than I’ve been in a long time.” I give her a hug. She was just as relieved as I was when I told her everything with Cruise was fine. I doubt she’ll ever know his hand in her husband’s murder, and I’m fine with that. When I step back, I pull my purse onto my shoulder, and say, “I think we should talk about things concerning Toby soon. Not tonight. I know you’re busy, but soon.”
She doesn’t appear surprised like I imagined she would be. She isn’t offended or defensive in her body language. A gentle smile is there, warming me that I’m not crossing a line, but I am making her proud. “We can do that. We can talk about Toby and the future. When you’re ready, I’ll be here for you.”
“You always have been. Thank you.”
“You kids are the best job I ever had.”
