Pieces of You

by Haven Rose

  Peyton and I always thought it strange he couldn’t recall their first date or any of the circumstances leading up to it, and now we know why. They’d actually met at a party his family had thrown to celebrate the opening of the hotel I now run. My mother, and damn, I hate that she has a title she doesn’t deserve, had bribed one of the servers to hand a specific drink to the man she’d pointed out…Thomas Howell.

  What had been added to it had been a combination of drugs – something to mess with his mind and loosen his inhibitions, therefore allowing her to get her way. Unfortunately, it worked. Within the month, she found herself pregnant and my paternal grandparents pushing for a wedding. As there was no denying them, the ceremony took place and my mother was a Howell, her standing in the family solidified by my upcoming arrival and my sister’s a few years later…another conception he couldn’t recall.

  Legally, nothing could be done regarding that, but that wasn’t the only option available. My dad, and yes, I refer to him as that now, filed for divorce and, due to the circumstances, it’s being put through as quickly as possible since she’s now an inmate at a women’s facility.

  Meow. Woof. Why don’t you do something about it?

  Ahh, Gypsy and Boomer are making their presence known, as is one of our newest residents, an African Grey Parrot named Quigley. He and numerous other birds were rescued from a hoarder, and while the others were placed in homes pretty quickly, Henry is a bit temperamental and needs Rooney to work her magic on him. However, I have a feeling he won’t be going anywhere as we’ve both caught the other talking to him as if he understands what we’re saying. Hell, perhaps he does. What I do know is when we picked him up after Mona’s phone call, he flew onto Rooney’s shoulder then my own within minutes, surprising everyone there as he wouldn’t let them near him. We may never know what kind of life he had, but we do know the kind we can give him and that’s one where he’ll never be afraid again.

  Our other newcomers are a horse, Fred, and Shaggy and Scooby, a couple kids – the correct term for young goats - the former owner a huge fan of the old cartoon. It seemed fitting that we take them in as Rooney is too. I’m glad we planned ahead for this possibility when we were looking for this place. There’s even room to expand which may happen sooner than later with all the requests we’re getting to help animals that no one else wants to take a chance on.

  I thank God every day Rooney took one on me.

  Epilogue One

  Rooney

  “I can’t believe you’re actually delivering on your due date,” Mona says with some sass, giving Rooney a hard time. “You’re such a goody-goody,” she teases.

  “That’s not what Caden says when we…mhmmmfff.” I glare at Caden whose hand is currently covering my mouth so I can’t finish my sentence.

  They both know full well I was more than likely going to say something neither wanted to hear or be shared. Little do they know I do that shit on purpose. It’s fun to see them squirm. My moms, however, are cracking up, trying not to be too loud so as not to wake up their new granddaughter, Marielle, a mix of their names. They cried when we introduced her, Caden and I not telling anyone until that moment because we wanted them to know first.

  Without them taking me in and making me part of their family, who knows what could have happened to me. I will never be able to thank them enough for that, but this is a start.

  “Where’s my granddaughter?” Thomas asks as he pokes his head inside my room. He’d gone down to the cafeteria to get some food and drinks for everyone, letting them all come in here instead. I have a feeling that was on purpose though, as if he’s still unsure of his place in the family. Caden and I have been trying to show him otherwise, but it’s been a slow process.

  My moms, albeit reluctantly, hand Marielle to Thomas and let the two of them have some time together. As if they suddenly remember I’m in the room, they start asking how I feel.

  “You two have been in here for half an hour and you’re just now acknowledging me?”

  “Oh hush. You know we love you and you’ve had us all to yourself for decades. We have some catching up to do with our new princess.” I hear Caden snort at that. Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, mister. Your day is coming.

  About thirty minutes goes by, Thomas cooing sweetly to Marielle, Reese beside him as he meets his new cousin, and, out of the blue, my mama pops up with, “So, how’s that woman,” she refuses to use her name, “finding life in an orange jumpsuit? I bet it clashes horribly with her skin,” she adds gleefully. And people usually think my mom is the more outspoken of the two.

  Shit, I think, as that realization hits and I glance at my mom and see the smile on her face. There’s no way she doesn’t have something to say too.

  “Ding, dong, that witch is gone. Which old witch? That wicked bitch,” she says in a singsongy voice. I stare at her, telepathically trying to get her to stop. Thomas, Caden, and Peyton may have divorced or essentially disowned her, but there’s a history that may still mean something to them.

  Okay, I guess I was wrong. My mama attempts to apologize for her wife, hoping he's not offended, only to find him laughing so hard I fear he’s going to pass out from lack of oxygen and I’m wondering if someone should grab Marielle just in case. Caden, sitting beside me on the bed, lays his head on my shoulder, his body shaking in amusement, and Peyton and my mom are doing some sort of two-step thing while they both sing this new version. Mona is off to the side, clapping to give them a beat.

  Thomas catches his breath, though chuckles are still emerging and tells her, “I’m not. I just wished I’d thought of it first.”

  I’d like to say these are not my monkeys, this is not my circus, but I gladly claim them all. Each are a piece of me and Caden, merging into a puzzle of acceptance, forgiveness, and understanding that is held together by love.

  **Caden**

  Everyone has gone home, my daughter sleeping peacefully in her bassinet beside the bed, my wife cuddled next to me, and my heart is replaying the memories it captured today. Seeing Marielle being born, hearing her first cry, cutting the cord, the joy on Rooney’s face when she was placed in her arms, and watching as she fed from her mom’s breast.

  And when it all truly registered - the nurse gaining our attention by asking, “Well, daddy and mommy, have you chosen a name for your daughter yet?” – I cried; my heart so full of love it could no longer be contained. It needed an outlet and tears of happiness, the visions I’d seen of the life I could have with Rooney the instant I saw her, ran unheeded down my cheeks and I didn’t care who saw them. In fact, I wanted people to ask so I could start bragging about the most important women in my world, my perfect daughter and beautiful wife.

  Later, after the family had come in and met her, I’d looked up, finally tearing my gaze from the sweet bundle I held against my chest, and caught my sister watching me. As if she knew exactly what I was thinking, she’d nodded, her eyes tearing up as she ran her hand over Reese’s hair. It was then I knew everything she’d gone through when she was younger, raising her son by herself all these years, receiving little to no support from our parents, me only able to do so much, that she’d gladly do it again without a second of hesitation…Reese was worth it all and more for her. I get it now.

  “Honey, you should go home and get some sleep,” Rooney, her voice muffled against my shoulder where her head is burrowed, suggests.

  “I’m here as long as you two are. I don’t leave without you,” I tell her, my tone letting her know my mind will not be changed. She sighs, knowing this is a losing battle, and places her hand over my heart, the tips of her fingers outlining it and giving a gentle squeeze as if she knows it’s beating solely for her and Marielle now.

  “I love you, Caden.”

  “I love you, Rooney. I didn’t realize I was only living in pieces until you made me whole.”

  Epilogue Two

  Rooney

  Ten years after meeting…

  Caden is sound asleep next to me, our c
hildren having spent the night with their grandmas so we’re enjoying a late morning in bed, and I’m unconsciously caressing the tattoo on his left index finger, my thumb rubbing over my matching one in the same location.

  We’d gotten them on our first anniversary, on the underside as they were a keepsake for us, and when they’re next to each other, the puzzle pieces line up as if clicking into place, which is exactly what we did all those years ago. And having been blessed with three kids, two boys and a girl, life has only gotten better, something I didn’t think possible.

  Marielle has thrived, reminding my mom and mama so much of me they’ve nicknamed her Rooney 2.0. My little girl is nine now and just beams with pride when she hears it, as if receiving the greatest compliment. The first time one of them called her that and she thanked them, telling them her mommy was the bestest, I cried for over an hour, unable to explain to Caden they were happy ones. He begged me never to scare him like that again, so he came up with the idea for a signal. From then on, if I tap my heart, he knows that’s where the tears are coming from and I’m okay. It’s actually come in quite handy over the years.

  Our oldest son, Dylan Thomas, the middle name in honor of his grandpa and dad, is seven and the spitting image of Caden. If you compare pictures of them throughout the years, each time you have to do a double take to make sure who is who. He also has Caden’s protective gene and it’s growing stronger all the time.

  Maxwell is our youngest at six and has no problem making his presence known. He has a smile for everyone he sees, waving at strangers as we pass them in stores, or when our neighbors walk by. We joke that he’ll probably run for office at some point and win by a landslide because people will be drawn to his ability to put them at ease.

  As for my father-in-law, Thomas, or Tom as he’s asked to be called, which was apparently what he always went by until Kimberly informed him she didn’t like it, sold his house shortly after the divorce was final and asked if we’d be okay with him buying one closer to us. We told him we’d love it and he even stayed with us while a few repairs were made on it.

  He’s since remarried and his wife, Megan, is a sweetheart. She blended so seamlessly into our family that it was like she’d always been there. They’d actually met here when she’d come by for an appointment to meet the dogs we had in residence. Tom had been outside with Pete, the golden retriever mix he’d decided to adopt, playing with the others and Megan said she knew right away he was meant to be hers -- we still don’t know which of them she was referring to. He’d joked about sharing custody, he’s a smooth one when he wants to be, that man. Within a month, he’d proposed, though they’d already been living together, staying at her place more often than not until his was ready.

  Dean and Mona are enjoying wedded bliss…together. Not that we were surprised when those two hooked up, the sparks flew whenever they were in the same vicinity. They live a few minutes from us and are frequent visitors. They both now work from home, Dean acting as a consultant for security companies and the like, including Howell Hotels when needed, while Mona is now on the board for the local animal shelters and advocates for donations and better laws to protect them. They’ve also, in addition to having two biological kids, become foster parents. They’ve adopted some, younger and teenagers, wanting those close to aging out to know they have a forever home they can always go to, that they aren’t alone. Mona had once told me knowing if it wasn’t for my moms I could’ve been one of them, was what led her to needing to make a difference. Caden and I have been talking for a while about doing the same thing, and are in the process of being approved.

  As for Peyton, she and Shane grew close when he became a part of our circle. He and Reese took to one another almost immediately, though she was more guarded having been hurt before. They’ve had more children, but he never hesitates to refer to Reese as his oldest. The first time Reese called him Dad, I’m not sure who cried more. Whenever someone refers to Shane or Reese as steps, they never make that distinction again. On Reese’s fifth birthday, about six months after Shane and Peyton got married, Reese eagerly unwrapped his presents, his favorite being a frame that held the decree stating he was officially a Thompson, Shane having completed the process to adopt him. Johnny has become Shane’s partner in the PI firm, and the two brothers love working together. Peyton decided with the birth of their middle child, Ruth, named in honor of Shane’s Maw Maw, to step down and become a stay-at-home-mom. She helps her husband and brother-in-law with paperwork and office duties from time to time.

  Bianca is married with four children. Her husband, Mitchell, was a visitor to the hotel and saw her walking through the lobby when he was checking in. He made it his mission to find out who she was and get her to fall in love with him. Before his reservation was up at the end of the week, they were inseparable and have been together ever since.

  Landry fell for the owner of one of her patients. Henry had just moved into the area and took his dog, Bosley, in for a checkup. He’d left with the promise of a date and within a year, they were married. They now have two kids and a growing variety of pets.

  “My throat is so dry,” Caden says beside me, his voice deep and sexy from lack of use. “I know the perfect way to fix that.”

  “Wha-?” My question ends in a yelp as he sits up, lifts me onto his lap, then lays back down and shimmies underneath me so my bare pussy, having never put my panties on again after our last round the previous evening, is poised above his mouth.

  “Is it ready for me?” He asks. “If I use my fingers to spread these lips, will I find the cream I crave like it’s the air I breathe?” My husband looks so clean cut, but he excels at dirty talk. He’s actually made me cum that way, no touching necessary. It doesn’t take long before I’m coating his tongue, my juices sliding down his throat as his growl vibrates against my clit. “More,” he commands, and my whole being instantly obeys.

  Another two orgasms later, I’m a weak yet satisfied lump, unsure if I even have the energy to blink. Caden though, is ready for more and makes love to me, our bodies barely moving aside from the slow slide of him pumping into me, inch by inch, the veins on his cock feeling as if they’re imprinting on me, the tip kissing my cervix, the pinch of pain mixing with the pleasure and sending me soaring to heights only my husband can take me.

  Though our mating wasn’t as frantic as usual, it was just as intense. As our breathing becomes easier, he stares straight into my eyes as my finger once again traces the ink permanently etched into his skin, this time above his heart, a reminder of our love and the life, or should I say lives, we’ve created. Caden and Rooney are written in cursive, almost as if one flows directly into the other - to represent the fact nothing can tear us apart – and his first letter and my last are designed so parts hang down as if surrounding the names of our children. There’s also plenty of room to give our family the chance to grow.

  “What do you say we add another?” He asks. “I’ve got the space for it.”

  “And if we have twins this time?” I want to know. The truth is, I have no clue what my biological history is, so it could always be a possibility.

  “Then there’d be two for Kip to add,” he replies, as if the problem is solved. Kip is the artist that has done all my work over the years and Caden decided to use him as well.

  “You have an answer for everything, don’t you, smartass?”

  He gives me a sweet kiss, the fires once more sparking to life between us, and says with complete sincerity, “Rooney Howell, as long as I have you and our children, however many we are blessed to have whether blood or not, there is no problem that can’t be solved.”

  Epilogue Three

  Rooney

  Twenty years after meeting…

  Our ten-year-old twins, Benjamin and Beverly, are graduating fifth grade today, which means come fall, they’ll be in middle school. I hate the thought of my babies growing up, but I can’t stop time…and believe me, I’ve tried.

  “Rainbow,” Caden says, his
hand gripping mine tightly, his voice strained. He’s feeling this just as much as I am, but even more so as he sees my tears. Tapping my heart, he sighs in relief at the signal, then leans forward and places a kiss on top of my head.

  We watch with eyes overflowing as Ben and Bev’s names are called and they walk across the stage, adorable in mini-caps and gowns to receive their “diplomas.”

  “Way to go, Bees,” Marielle shouts with pride for her youngest brother and sister using the nickname she christened them with shortly after they were born. She’s nineteen now and will be a freshman in college this fall and wants to become a veterinarian.

  Ben and Bev wave in our direction, unable to miss us as we take up a lot of room.

  Beside Marielle is Dylan, now seventeen and a senior in high school. He plans to get a degree in business management, wanting to follow in his dad’s footsteps and someday take over the family’s hotels. He’s fully prepared, and insisting on, starting from the bottom and working his way up, again just like Caden.

  Maxwell is almost sixteen and on the student council. He was unanimously voted by his peers for the position and is excelling at it. He plans to become a lawyer, wanting to help those he can, and has his eye on a seat in the local government. His classmates seek him out for advice, knowing he won’t be judgmental and will take his time to look at an issue from every angle before making a decision. He is mature beyond his years.

  To his right is Damian and he’s thirteen. He came to us two years ago as a foster child, his parents both addicts who neglected him so much he had to be removed from their care. Understandably, it took time for him to accept he had his own room, could decorate it any way he wanted to, and there would always be food he could eat whenever he was hungry. His first dinner with us, he hunched over his plate like someone would take it and shoveled it in so fast, he made himself sick. As I held him while his body purged every bite he’d just taken, I told him over and over he was going to be okay. He fell asleep that night in his new bed, holding my hand and Caden’s as we sat on either side of him, as if scared to let go. When we asked if we could adopt him, he cried for days afterward. The day it became official was one of the happiest of our lives…and that’s saying a lot as we’ve had too many to count.