by Whitley Cox
Atlas grunted.
“Besides, you’re a big fancy lawyer. You’d win custody regardless.”
Atlas grunted again. “You need me to come down there?”
“Naw, son. You’re busy with the little ones up there. You guys have your life and your routine. It’s a sad thing for sure, but I think your cousin was in a lot of pain. She had a lot of regrets and had sunk into a pretty severe depression. I hate to say this, but at least she’s at peace now.”
Unsure what to say next, he simply grunted again.
“I know it’s going to take a while to sink in,” his father said, remorse thick in his voice. “Your mother hasn’t been able to stop crying since we found out a few hours ago.”
As much as he loved his dad, at the moment, he didn’t want to talk to a soul. He just wanted to sit in silence with his grief, with his anger, with his pain—the same way he’d dealt with Samantha’s passing. But as if she knew on some deep-down freaky-spiritual level that something was wrong, Cecily down the hall began to cry.
“That CeCe?” his dad asked.
“Mhmm.” He drained his drink, then stood up.
“Okay then, son. I’ll leave you to it. Kiss the girls for your mother and me, and we’ll call again in a few days, okay?”
“’K, Dad.” He went to hang up but then thought better of it. “Dad?”
“Yes, son?”
“I love you. Mom too.”
His dad was quiet for a moment, but the ragged breathing on the other end said that Rhys Stark was having a hard time keeping it together. “We love you too, Atlas. So much.”
“Bye, Dad.”
“Goodbye, son.”
He disconnected the call and headed down toward Cecily’s room, craning his neck into Aria’s room first to check to see if she was still asleep. Thankfully, she was.
Cecily was standing up in her crib, her face dripping with tears by the time he got there, her fine, blonde hair all messed up from sleep. She threw her arms in the air and reached for him, the words up, up, mixing with her frantic cries. He scooped her up and snuggled her into his chest. Immediately she stopped crying and nestled into the crook of his neck, her whimpers and squeaks soft and content.
Ordinarily, he wouldn’t have picked her up but would simply pat her back to help her get back down. But just like the night Samantha died, when Aria woke, he’d held her for as long as she needed him to. Let her sleep on him, take comfort in his heartbeat and the knowledge that he was there for her, for as long as she needed him, forever and for always. And tonight, Cecily needed the same thing. Tonight, she got whatever she wanted, whatever she needed, because tonight, she’d just lost her mother.
16
Friday afternoon seemed to get there in no time, and even though he was still incredibly sad about losing his cousin, Atlas tossed on a brave face for the girls. They needed him to be strong and present, not wallowing in his grief, shutting them and the rest of the world out.
So, as planned, he dropped Aria off with Tessa, then he—with Cecily in the carrier—walked to the library for story time.
She loved it, like Jenny said she always did, and she even tried to take a few steps away from him, only to land with a gentle thud on her bottom when a toy distracted her and caused her to try to turn.
She was snoozing on his back by the time he went to gather Aria, who also appeared tired but in good spirits.
“See, Daddy,” his daughter said, coming up to him with a piece of paper dripping in white glue, “I made the beach. Like the one we go to tomorrow.”
He promised the girls that he would take them to the beach on Sunday if they behaved for Kimmy Saturday night while he was at poker. Only Aria had no concept of days or time and thought tomorrow was Sunday.
“You mean Sunday,” he corrected.
“Yeah, tomorrow.”
He rolled his eyes. “Two more sleeps and then the beach.”
“Yeah, tomorrow.”
“Just give up,” Tessa said, chuckling after she finished cleaning up the craft supplies and joined them. “Her development isn’t there yet to understand time and dates. It’s best to do what you’re doing and just use sleeps as a countdown.” She winked at him. He’d told her last night about Tamsin, and she’d somehow managed to say all the right things, which, incidentally, was very little. Because he didn’t want to talk or listen to someone go on and on about her being in a better place. He just wanted to sit on the phone with someone in the quiet, and that’s exactly what she’d let him do.
She studied, he did dishes and tidied the house, but they had their phones on. They were together. She was there for him if he needed her. Present.
And it had been perfect.
Aria’s eyes lit up and she gasped like she’d just discovered a new element for the periodic table or someone had asked her to do a voiceover for Frozen III. “I know.” She lifted her finger up like a true scientist. “I think Tessa should come to the beach with us.” She turned to Atlas. “Please, Daddy, can she come?”
“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Aria,” Tessa said, resting her hand on Aria’s shoulder.
Aria shrugged. “It’s a beach. You need to come.”
Kid logic was so cut and dried.
“We will make sand castles and dig for stuff like clams and crabs and whales.”
“Whales?” Tessa’s eyebrow lifted, and she covered her mouth inconspicuously to hide her growing smile.
“Yeah, but like you have to dig down really deep, because whales live in a lot of water.” She turned back to Atlas. “Please, Daddy. Say Tessa can come with us.” She went to pull on his shorts pocket, but he held her off at the same time he lifted his glance to Tessa. “Beach? Then some friends are having a get-together, and they said you should come.” He knew he was taking a huge leap inviting her, particularly to both places, but he also knew he hated being away from this woman.
“Y-you’ve told people about us?”
He shrugged. “A few. Haven’t you?”
“I don’t really have very many people to tell.” Her face fell. “Despite being a Seattle native, I don’t have too many friends. They’ve all either moved away or had children and have no time for me.”
All the more reason she should go with him. “Well, there will be loads of women at this party, and I guarantee you by the time you leave, you’ll be friends with them. It’s just what happens.”
The look she gave him was skeptical. “Loads? You mean to tell me each one of your male friends has an entire harem?”
“No. Not a harem each.” He bugged out his eyes. “Can you imagine? I could not even begin to think how I’d please that many women.” Her soft snicker made his heart tighten. “Just one woman each. But they’re all single dads too and over the last little while have found a woman who just fits.”
“Who just fits,” she repeated. “Is that what I am? A woman who just fits?”
He’d been so focused on Tessa, he hadn’t noticed Aria’s curious eyes swiveling back and forth like she was watching a championship match at Wimbledon. “What you guys talking about?” she asked.
He ran his hand down the back of her head. “Nothing, sweetie. Just grown-up talk.”
“You saying how Tessa fits her pants? Because she wouldn’t fit into your pants. They too big. And you couldn’t fit into her pants. They would break.”
Oh Jesus. Out of the mouths of precocious babes.
He’d managed to get into Tessa’s pants no problem the other night.
He twisted his lips to keep the smile from stretching too far across his face. “Not quite, sweetie. Why don’t you go put your unfinished art away in your bin and then we’ll go?”
Aria rolled her eyes, then took off toward her bin, her feet scuffing along the floor like she was walking through snow.
“Come on Sunday,” he said, hitting Tessa with his gaze again. “To the beach and the party. It’ll take your mind off everything that’s going on. And by Sunday, I’m sure you’ll ne
ed the break if you’re just going to study all weekend. Besides, Aria thinks you coming to the beach was her idea. We can keep our hands to ourselves if you want to.”
He didn’t want to, but he also wasn’t sure how much affection he could show Tessa in front of his daughter. He’d never done anything like this before, and he didn’t want to confuse the kid, particularly when things were going so well for her at the moment.
Tessa’s bottom lip rolled inward, and she snagged it with her top teeth. “I’ll think about it, okay? It will depend on how productive my studying is on Saturday.”
Aria was back and tugging on Atlas’s arm, whining to go.
He shot Tessa a smile and a look he hoped conveyed exactly how he felt about her and how much she meant to him. “Fine. But just know that if you’re not at the beach on Sunday, you’ll be expected to come by that night. I don’t want to go the entire weekend without seeing you.” He lifted his eyebrow, waited for her reaction, which was exactly what he wanted: dilated pupils, flared nostrils, flushed cheeks. Then he took his daughter by the hand and led them out the door. But not before calling back, “See you Sunday, Tessa.”
It was Sunday afternoon, and Tessa was elbow-deep in the depths of her walk-in closet, on the hunt for her big floppy sun hat. She knew it was in there somewhere. She’d only just worn it that past summer, so where was it now?
“Oh, for crying out loud,” she hollered to no one in particular as she heaved another one of Carlyle’s big boxes of comic books out of the way. She spied her hat, and of course, it was crushed beneath another box of comics.
Son of a bitch.
“I freaking hate you!”
If her sun hat was ruined, she was going to add that to the list of things he owed her, besides her dog and the last five years of her life.
The thought of Forest brought melancholy into her heart, and as fast as the fury came, it fled, replaced by nothing but sadness. Forest loved the beach. He loved chasing the waves, digging in the sand, chasing a stick. He loved everything because he’d lived in hell, and now that he was out of it, he was just appreciative and grateful for every day.
Was whoever Carlyle had left him with taking him for walks? Was he being treated well? She’d never forgive herself or Carlyle if Forest was facing any kind of neglect while he was with Carlyle’s friend. A friend she’d never even heard of.
A hot tear slipped down her cheek as she sat back on her heels and brought one of Forest’s beloved stuffed toys to her chest. He’d loved this squirrel, torn the stuffing clean out of it more than once. And she just couldn’t bring herself to throw it away, he loved it so much, so each time he disemboweled the creature, she’d collect all the stuffing from around the apartment, then perform abdominal surgery on poor Sassy the Squirrel.
“I miss you, buddy,” she whispered once again to nobody. Because she had nobody. Had Forest been home, he would have been right in the closet with her, then when she hollered out in frustration, his head would have cocked side to side like a puppy as he tried to understand her.
She should torch the whole comic book collection just to spite Carlyle. Then drop each one of his precious records from the Ballard Bridge. He could freaking swim to collect them.
But then the little voice in her head reminded her of their worth. Not only were they worth a lot of money, but they could also be used as a bargaining chip for her to get Forest back.
Shoving the other big box out of the way, she grabbed her floppy tan sun hat. It was flat and had a weird fold on one side, but it would still work to keep the sun off her face. She went to plop it on her head, but before she could, an envelope fell out into her lap. It was in her father’s handwriting, but all it said was Kiddo.
Where did this come from? Why had she never seen this before? Had Carlyle hidden it?
Turning the envelope over in her hand, she slid her fingers over the seal. It hadn’t been opened or compromised in any way, so why would he hide it?
Unless he hadn’t and it had simply fallen out of one of the many boxes she’d brought over from her parents’ house once it sold and then stuffed in her closet because she had no time to go through it all.
Grabbing the corner of the envelope, she went to tear it open when her phone in the pocket of her flannel pajama pants began to vibrate and ring.
“Hello?” Standing up, she took the letter into her room with her and set it down on her dresser.
“Hey, we’re just leaving the house now. Can you be ready in ten minutes if we come get you?” It was Atlas, and he sounded unusually chipper. She knew he was still grieving the loss of his cousin, and when he called her the last few nights—even last night after his poker game—he’d been sad, and they simply sat together in silence on the phone. She read her journal articles, and he read the news on his phone or cleaned the house, but they were together, and that was what he’d needed.
But today, he sounded upbeat, almost happy.
“I thought we were just meeting at the beach,” she said, pulling her pajama pants off only to slide into denim shorts with a rolled hem that hit her just above the knee.
“Yeah, but why take two cars when we can just take one? Then we’ll go home, hose the kids off, and then head to the party.”
“Should I be dressing fancy?”
“You mean pack one of those hippie skirts? Sure. I mean, I’ll be in a tuxedo, but I’m sure you won’t be turned away looking like a flower child ready for Woodstock.”
“Neither of us are old enough to bring up Woodstock. And was that a joke? Did Atlas Stark just tell a joke?” He really was in a good mood if he was cracking one-liners.
“It’s casual. You’d look beautiful in a potato sack.”
Heat filled her cheeks. She set her phone down, hit the speaker option, pulled off her pajama top and then went on the hunt for her bra.
“We’re on the way,” he said.
“That’s right, Tessa. We’re on the way,” Aria cheered from the background.
“Waaaay,” Cecily echoed.
Giggles floated across the line.
“Get your bikini and your SPF on and meet us out front in ten, okay?”
She located her bra and put it on, followed by a sleeveless black-and-white checked button-up shirt. Her sigh was more for dramatic effect than anything, because the smile on her face hurt her cheeks. “Fine. I’ll be out in ten.”
“Yay!” they all cheered in the car. Then the line went dead.
Tessa glanced at herself in the mirror and was taken aback by just how big her smile was. Despite not having Forest right now, she was happy. Atlas, Aria and Cecily, they made her happy—maybe she did fit?
“Look, Daddy!” Aria announced, lying back in the sand and flailing her limbs all about. “I’m making sand angels. See?”
Tessa turned to hide her face as she snickered. The child was covered head to toe in sand, and now it was going to be caked on her scalp, under her nails and probably in her bathing suit.
“Sweetie,” Atlas said gently, standing up from the beach blanket with a slight groan. “You are covered in sand, absolutely covered.”
Aria didn’t move from her prone position in the wet sand. “I don’t mind. I like how it feels between my toes.”
Cecily was currently sitting on the blanket between Tessa’s legs, happily playing with sand.
“Blech … ahhhh,” the baby began to protest.
Tessa craned her neck around to find a giant wad of sand tumbling out of Cecily’s mouth, the baby looking most put out by her current choice of food.
“Oh dear Lord.” She chuckled, reaching for Cecily’s water bottle. “Have a sip, little one. Here.” She held the bottle for her and Cecily guzzled greedily, her chubby little legs bouncing and toes digging deeper into the sand. With water from the water bottle on a corner of a towel, Tessa wiped her up as best she could. Cecily had already moved on from her perturbed state and was back to attempting to dig with one of the sand shovels.
Aria and Atlas wandered bac
k toward them, hand in hand. “I think we might need to give a five-minute warning,” he said, kneeling down on the blanket next to Tessa and briskly wiping the sand from his daughter’s limbs, though the effort seemed somewhat futile.
“I don’t want to gooooooo,” Aria protested, stomping her foot and adopting the biggest pout on the planet. “I love the beach, and I loooooove that Tessa is here with us.”
“Yeah, but we’re going to go home, get all cleaned up and then go to a party,” Atlas offered. Tessa’s belly did a flip-flop at the mention of this party. The only person besides Atlas that she would know there would be Zak Eastwood and his son Aiden. Because Aiden had been a client. Otherwise, she would be the interloper. The intruder that everyone knew about, but she knew nothing about them. She was going in with a serious disadvantage.
“A party?” Aria asked. “For who? Can I wear a party dress?”
Atlas grimaced when he went to rub the towel over her head and sand began to fly everywhere. “We might have to strap her to the roof,” he murmured.
Tessa giggled.
“Can I wear my rose dress, Daddy?” Aria asked. “That is my most beautifulest dress. I look like a princess in it.”
“You can wear your rose dress,” he replied. “And you’re right, you do look like a princess.”
Beaming, Aria allowed him to continue toweling the sand off her without protest.
Within ten minutes, they were all packed up, re-dressed—sort of—and heading back to Atlas’s Land Cruiser. Like he often did, he was wearing Cecily in the carrier, only this time she was forward-facing. Did he know how sexy he looked? Probably not.
With all their gear in one hand and Aria’s hand in his other, Tessa was left to carry nothing but the blanket. He had it all under control. As much as he said he was overwhelmed and didn’t feel like he could hack the single dad of two girls thing, to her, he was knocking it out of the park.
Aria pivoted her head around. “Come on, Tessa! We don’t want to be late for the party.”
