“Thank you for being there with her,” Skylar says quietly.
“She was my friend,” I explain. I don’t know what else to say.
She looks into my eyes. “Was she in a lot of pain?” she asks. She shakes her head. “I tried to talk to Seth about it, but he pretty much pretends I don’t exist.”
I shove my hands in my pockets. “What do you mean? He’s not giving you a hard time, is he?”
She shakes her head again. “No. He’s perfect. He takes his sisters to day care in the morning and picks them up after school. He feeds them, and he bathes them. He won’t let me do anything. I think I’m just a placeholder.” She blows out a heavy breath.
I scratch my head. I don’t know how to tell her what I want to say.
“What?” she asks, her delicate brow arching.
“Kendra asked him to make it easy for you,” I admit. “When she was dying, she told him some things about how to be a good man. Always open car doors. Carry a handkerchief on dates, because you never know when she’ll cry. Never let her pay for dinner.” I take a deep breath. “And she told him to make it easy for you.”
Her mouth opens like she wants to say something but nothing comes out. She’s speechless. She closes it tightly, pressing her lips together. “What else did she tell him?”
“Just normal stuff about dying,” I tell her. It was soul-wrenching to watch. I’d finally had to leave the room so I wouldn’t upset them both with my sobbing. I missed some things as a result.
“I don’t know what to do with kids,” she says.
“They don’t really need much,” I say. “Just for you to love them.”
“I’m trying,” she says.
I want to lay my hand on the back of her hair and smooth down the length of it. I bet it feels like silk.
“I, um, should have introduced you to my boyfriend,” she says. “Do you want to meet him?”
I shake my head. I see him talking with Mr. Morgan. Skylar’s dad doesn’t look like he’s impressed.
“When you, um, took my hand…” she says. “I should have told you.”
“Why?” I look down at her. She comes up to my shoulder, even in her heels.
“I, um, didn’t want you to get the wrong idea.”
This time it’s me raising my brows at her. “Why did you think I took your hand?”
Her face colors. “I’m not sure,” she says.
I wrap my hand around her wrist and give her a soft squeeze. “I took your hand because you were trembling,” I say. “That’s all.” She’s trembling now, too, but I let her go.
“Oh,” she breathes.
She has her phone clutched in her free hand so I take it from her and add myself to her address book. “Do me a favor?” I say.
She looks up at me and then back down at the phone.
“Call me if you need anything. Anything at all. I promised their mom.”
“Okay,” she replies. “Thanks for everything.” Her blue eyes meet mine, and I have never seen anyone look quite so lost. But then her eyes narrow as her gaze shoots past me. “Shit,” she suddenly spits out.
“What?” I ask, looking over my shoulder toward the sedan that just pulled up.
“My mother is here,” she says. She squares her shoulders, and I suddenly see a spark that wasn’t there a moment ago. “Can you watch the children for a minute?” she asks.
“Why?”
“Just because,” she says. She grits her teeth and looks up at me. “Promise me. No matter what, don’t let her anywhere near the children.”
What the fuck? I look back at the sedan. The door opens, and an older and much harsher version of Skylar gets out.
“Okay…” I say slowly. Skylar nods her head, steels her spine, and walks toward her mother.
The rigidity of her posture makes me think of my own mother’s the time that Johnny Rickles stuck a “Kick me” note on my back and then watched all the other kids laugh. My mother went ballistic when she saw it. It’s a look that says danger will have to go through her before it gets to the children, and I think I just met Seth, Mellie, and Joey’s mom for the very first time. Her name is Skylar Morgan, and she’s tiny and gorgeous and awesome.
Skylar
I don’t know why she’s here, but I do know that she can’t stay. Mom pushes the black-veiled hat from in front of her eyes and smiles at me. “Good afternoon, darling,” she says, leaning forward just enough to not touch me as she places an air kiss near my cheek. Her breath reeks of scotch, and she sways a little on her feet.
“What are you doing here?” I hiss. I crowd my mother back toward the car until she’s standing in the open door. Her driver looks uncomfortable, and I immediately feel sorry for him.
“I came to pay my respects, dear,” she says. Her voice drips honey, but my mother has no sweetness about her.
“Get back in the car, Mother,” I say. I make a hasty motion with my hand.
“This is no way to treat your mother,” she says. Some of the sweetness has left her voice, but the mask isn’t coming off. Not yet, anyway.
“Mother,” I warn with a growl.
She heaves a sigh. “I just wanted to pay my respects,” she says again.
“Send a card,” I say.
She looks across the cemetery toward the grave, and her eyes narrow. “Are those the children?” she asks. Her face puckers as though she smells something bad.
“No,” I say.
“Then be a dear and tell me which ones they are, darling,” she says. “I want to meet them.”
“No,” I bite out.
“Rachel,” my father clips out as he quickly strides toward us.
“Oh, hello,” Mom chirps.
“Get in the car, Rachel,” he says. He takes my mother by the elbow and shoves her inside.
“But,” she sputters. He closes the back door on her and addresses her driver, who stands at attention near the car.
“Drive,” he says.
“Yes, sir,” the man replies, and he slides into the driver’s seat.
“I’ll call you tomorrow,” Dad says. “I need to get her out of here,” he explains.
I nod. “Why did she even come here?” I ask more to myself than to him.
“Because she is not in control of this part of my life,” he grinds out.
I look up at Dad. “Do you ever wonder what your life would be like if you hadn’t married Mother?” I blurt out. No idea where that came from.
He presses his lips to my forehead really quickly. “Never, because then I wouldn’t have you.”
My gut clenches, and my head spins. “What?”
“Skylar, I love you,” he says. Then he slides in the car with Mother, and they pull out of the cemetery. I watch until their taillights fade in the distance.
“Everything all right?” a voice asks as it walks toward me. I look up and see Matthew Reed and four people who look remarkably like him.
“Fine,” I say, my hand waving breezily in the air because I don’t know what to do with it. “That was just my mother trying to insert herself somewhere she shouldn’t.”
Matt’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say anything. He points to the men next to him, introducing each in turn. “My brothers—Paul, Logan, Sam, and Pete.” Each of them reaches to shake my hand. There are three women with them, too. “And this is Logan’s wife, Emily, and you already know Reagan.” I met Reagan by accident the day Kendra died. We shared a car ride.
The last one, a pretty, black-haired girl with tattoos up the side of her neck, steps forward holding out her hand. “Friday,” she says.
“It’s Saturday,” I say.
She laughs. “No, my name is Friday,” she clarifies. She leans into the biggest of the brothers—I think his name is Paul, but there are so freaking many of them—and he wraps an arm around her shoulders. “I work with these big lugs in the tattoo parlor.”
“Tattoo parlor?” I say. I must sound like a parrot because all I seem to be able to do is repeat what e
veryone else is saying.
“Reed’s,” Matt says. “We all work there.”
“Oh,” I breathe. I am usually so much more eloquent than this. At least I hope I am.
I look around the brothers and see Seth standing with his sisters. Each of them holds one of his hands. Everyone else has left the cemetery already. Have we been here that long?
Matt motions from one brother to another. “We were going to go and get a pie,” he says. “We thought you might want to go with us.”
New York pizza is one my favorite foods. “I don’t know,” I hedge. Seth has walked closer with his sisters, so I look over at them. He looks hopeful. I haven’t seen him look interested in anything at all, aside from his sisters’ well-being, in a week now. I raise a brow, asking him what he’d like to do.
He nods. Then he looks away, almost like he’s afraid to feel hopeful. He looks toward the casket being lowered into the ground.
“We’d love to join you,” I say.
Joey looks up at Seth and asks, “Will Mommy come?”
Seth has been trying to tell the little ones all week that Mommy is gone, and they can’t seem to grasp the concept of death. They keep expecting her to walk through the door.
“No,” Seth says, and I see him swallow hard. “Mommy can’t come.”
“Maybe later,” she says quietly, her face falling. He picks her up, and she puts her head on his shoulder. Mellie takes his hand, and we walk toward the funeral cars.
“Rico’s is just a couple of blocks away,” Matt explains, looking at the car like it’s going to bite him. “Do you want to meet us there?”
“We’ll walk with you,” Seth says, and they all start in the direction of the pizza parlor. I look around, thinking I’ll see Phillip, my boyfriend, but he must have left. That doesn’t surprise me, not in the least. I pull out my phone and send him a quick text message.
Me: Where are you?
I shove my phone back in my pocket.
We all fall into a line, with me and Matt walking side by side at the back end of it.
“How are things going?” he asks.
“Terrible,” I admit, and I feel the dreaded tears sting my eyes. Matt pulls out a handkerchief and offers it to me. I take it and dab at my eyes. “It’s just hard. The kids don’t know me, and Seth’s not really interested in letting me get to know the little ones. He won’t even let me read them a bedtime story. He cooks, he cleans, he does laundry, he does everything, and I have never felt more useless in my life.” I look up and realize Matt’s listening. He’s really, really listening.
“Seth has been taking care of his sisters for a really long time,” Matt says softly. “He’s used to doing it all by himself. He did it when his mom was in chemo. And he did it all through her treatments. It’s normal for him. He doesn’t mind it because it’s what he knows.”
“The little ones keep asking when she’s coming back, like she’s on vacation or at the office.” My throat is so thick that I feel like I’m going to choke.
He winces. “That’s got to be tough,” he says.
“I just wish I knew what to do from here,” I admit. I have no idea how to be a mom. I don’t know what to do for fevers, and I can barely change a diaper. Thank God the littlest one is almost potty trained. Although I am learning diapering out of sheer necessity. You put one on crooked, and you’re screwed.
“Are you going to keep them?” he asks.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do,” I admit. “I just don’t know. I don’t have to go back to work just yet. They’re letting me work from home. Well, not my home—Kendra’s home.”
“You’re still staying there?” he asks.
I nod. “For now. I thought it would be better for them to have someplace familiar, surrounded by their toys, their own beds, and even their mom’s things. At least for the moment.”
Matt takes my elbow in his grip and stops. “Skylar,” he says.
“What?” I look into his blue eyes and am almost startled at the intensity of his gaze.
“Can you love them? Really love them? Because there’s no shame in admitting you don’t want them or can’t take care of them. They deserve better.”
“They do deserve better than me,” I whisper. “But I’m all they have.” I snort, just because I can’t help it. “Honestly, Matt,” I say, “I can’t even keep a houseplant alive. What am I thinking?”
He brushes a lock of hair from my forehead. “Do you want to know what I think?” he asks.
“What?” I breathe. We’re in the middle of a crowded street, but I have never felt quite so separated from the rest of the world.
“I think you can do it. I have faith in you.”
“Why?” I ask. “You don’t even know me.”
“Because you care,” he says. “That’s all kids need. For someone to care.”
“Do you have kids?” I ask.
He shakes his head as a veil falls over his eyes. “No. Can I borrow yours sometimes?”
I laugh. “Kind of like a cup of sugar?”
He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t bring the cup of sugar back. The kids on the other hand…” He raises and lowers his hand like he’s weighing his words.
I laugh.
“I can’t have kids,” he says. “Or at least the chances are slim.” He puts up a hand when I open my mouth to ask a question. I know he had cancer, but I don’t know what kind or what his prognosis is. “Not being able to have something really has a tendency to make you want it more.” He points to Seth’s back. “See, you got three at once, and I can’t even have one.” He chuckles and nudges my shoulder with his. He keeps walking, and I stay beside him. “How does your boyfriend feel about them?” he asks.
I shrug my shoulders. “We haven’t really discussed it.”
“Don’t you think you should?” His brow furrows as he looks down at me.
“That’s complicated.”
Matt takes in a deep breath. “I have a confession to make,” he says. “Do you want to hear it?”
“Of course.”
“In the church, when I took your hand, it wasn’t just because you were trembling.”
My heart lurches, but now we’ve arrived at the restaurant. He ushers me through the door with a hand at the small of my back, and the time for small talk is over. Crap.
Matt
My brothers are pigs. I have known this for a long time, but it’s never more evident than when they’re all in one place. And in public. Sam and Pete are having an arm wrestling match in the middle of the table while we wait for the waitress to bring the check. Mellie and Joey have fallen asleep. They’re draped across Seth at angles that don’t look remotely comfortable, but I think he’s used to his sisters being all up in his space. His hand trails down Mellie’s back absently, and he looks down at her fondly, his smile soft. I go and sit down next to him.
“How’s it going, Seth?” I ask.
He shrugs and looks everywhere but at me. “Fine,” he says.
I nod and wait a moment. I’m pretty sure no one is paying us any mind, so I say what’s in my heart. “I remember when my mom died. People kept asking me if I was okay, and I told them I was, but I really wasn’t. Not even close.”
His gaze jerks to meet mine. “Your mom died?”
I nod. I hate talking about Mom because then I have to talk about Dad, too. “My mom died. I was a little younger than you. Then not long after that, our dad left, too.” I sweep my hand toward my brothers. “Then it was just the five of us.”
Seth heaves a sigh. “Sucks,” he grunts out. Then he lets his head fall back, and I finally see it. I see some of the exhaustion.
“Sucks ass,” I reply. “But all you can do is play the cards you’re dealt.” I point toward Skylar where she’s talking with Reagan, Emily, and Friday. She’s so damn pretty when she smiles that she takes my breath away. But if there was ever a woman who was out of my league, it’s Skylar Morgan. “How are things going with your aunt?” I ask.
“You getting to know her?”
He shrugs.
“You should let her help you some,” I suggest. “She mentioned that she’s feeling a little left out.”
His gaze shoots up to mine again. “She did?”
I nod. “Do you hope she’ll just hang around until you don’t need her anymore?”
“I don’t need her now.”
“You can’t do it all by yourself, Seth. No one can.”
He points to his chest. “I can.”
“You’re sixteen years old.”
His face clouds, and it’s honestly the most emotion I have ever seen on the kid’s face. “I know how old I am. I also know that I promised my mom I’d take care of them.”
“Would it hurt to accept some help?” I ask. I nudge his shoulder. “When does wrestling start?”
“Next week, but I’m not going out.” His brow furrows. “I don’t have time.”
“How much time do you need?”
He sighs heavily. “It’s two hours every day after school. Matches on the weekends and one night a week. Mellie and Joey are already in day care all day. I can’t put them with a babysitter, too.”
“You don’t have to put them with a babysitter. Leave them with their aunt.” I point toward Skylar, and she catches me, her eyes narrowing. I shake my head at her. She gets it, but she’s still curious. “She’s their legal guardian, Seth. Not you.”
His voice is quiet when he speaks, so quiet that I can barely hear him, but I make out the words. “I’m afraid if I ask her for too much, she’s going to leave. Then we’ll all go to foster homes and be split up. No one else wants us.” His jaw ticks as he clenches his teeth. “Do you know they asked my dad to take all of us?”
I didn’t know that. “And?”
“And he said he’d take me, but he wouldn’t take Mellie and Joey.” He looks down at them, his gaze softening but he’s still angry. “Can you believe that? He’d give them to someone else. Anyone else. My mom would shit a brick if she knew.” He shakes his head. “Sucks.”
Maybe Matt's Miracle Page 2
