Chapter 12 #2
Biting my lip at her choice of words, I walk through the back patio doors as they step into the living room, Allie leading Carlton as she all but bounces on the ball of her toes.
“Dear, maybe don’t force that word onto him.”
She tsks. “He’s just as much my son as Grayson and Drew and that makes her my grandchild.”
Carlton gazes at her adoringly. “I thought we agreed you would ask him first.”
Allie ignores him, her head whipping around, searching, yet not clocking us until I close the door behind me. The click draws Allie’s gaze our way.
Her hands fly to her mouth as she gasps, coming to an abrupt stop and forcing Carlton to follow suit. Although even he looks a bit shell-shocked, and that’s saying something—it takes a lot to ruffle Mr. Crawford’s feathers.
Carlton is the calm to Allie’s frantic energy. They compliment each other well. The only time I’ve seen Carlton truly affected was when Drew died…along with the silence that ensued thereafter from Grayson.
The fact he’s staring at Emmy, his jaw practically unhinged, freaks me out a little.
Tears line Allie’s eyes as I move closer, my hold on Emmy tightening. Her fingers twirl in the back of my hair, a nervous habit I’ve noticed her pick up.
“Emmy,” I say softly, keeping my gaze locked on Allie. “This is your grandma.”
Allie sucks in a sharp breath at the title I happily hand over.
Grayson is right—they are my family and I want to give Emmy everything that I was robbed of. There’s no reason for Emmy to call her anything different. One day I’ll tell her that blood doesn’t always mean family, and sometimes the family we choose are the best of all.
But for now, with her young mind, I’ll tell her what Allie is to me—a mom.
It would be a disservice to call her anything but. She’s the only woman in my life who ever deserved the title.
Allie’s arms come out, then drop by her sides as if she doesn’t know what to do with herself. “Can I hold her?” she chokes out.
Emmy is watching Allie with such intensity. I ask, “Do you want to be held?”
She lifts her eyes to mine and I can see she’s unsure.
Allie waves me off. “It’s okay. I’ll get my hugs in soon when she warms up to me, I’m sure. You were similar. My gosh, you put me through hoops as a young boy, Kieran.” She places her bag on the kitchen bench, then turns to Carlton. “Honey, can you give her the presents?”
He shakes his head, snapping out of his stupor as he turns to me. “She looks like you. Like, if we could find a baby photo—” He cuts himself off abruptly at the slip.
I have no baby photos. Not a single documentation of my life before the foster home. My mother left me with nothing but the shabby clothes on my back that day.
Even her face began to fade from my mind when I was eight. Slowly but surely, it got muddled.
At first, it was small.
Were her eyebrows thick or thin? Was her voice raspy and low or was that me remembering a character on TV? Did she have brown hair or black?
The only memories that never faded were the ones I prayed to forget. The ones that would wake me in the middle of the night gasping for air and praying to a God that never once listened to me to take the horrors from my mind.
The happiness faded, but the trauma was burned, ingrained in my mind.
Still to this day I remember it like it was yesterday.
I always wonder why that is, why our minds choose to cling to the worst memories and let the happiest go.
Quickly clearing my throat and trying to eradicate the tightness in my chest, I give Carlton a tight-lipped smile, forcing it to look real at the guilt that’s clearly eating away at him.
“It’s okay,” I say. “I’ll take your word for it.”
He comes up and pats me on the shoulder. “Sorry, son. I just got swept up in the moment and forgot.”
Son.
He’s always called me that, so you’d think my heart would stop skipping a beat every time I hear it.
Allie, sensing the lingering tension, spins on her heel and grabs the bags I didn’t notice until now sitting at Carlton’s feet. She places them on the couch. “I’ve got lots of goodies for you, honey. Do you want to open them?”
Placing Emmy down, I allow her to decide, while keeping a gentle hand on the back of her head. Now I’m the one playing with her soft hair. She peers up at me and at that look I nod, a real smile stretching my lips this time.
“Go see what you got, Em.”
Her little hand lifts in the air between us. Without missing a beat, I clasp it, letting her lead me toward the couch, all of us taking a seat as she climbs up and stares at the presents.
There’s such shock and awe on Emmy’s face I realize with a sudden clarity that I don’t think she’s ever gotten presents before. She’s examining them like she doesn’t know what to do with the wrapping, the bags, and the tissue paper.
I choke on the sudden rush of sadness that hits me. By the fresh tears spilling down Allie’s cheeks that she’s trying to inconspicuously wipe away, she’s noticed it too.
It’s no doubt what I looked like the time Allie bought me my first gift. And like she did that day, she repeats it again, sitting forward and gently showing Emmy how to open gifts.
My chest clenches painfully and before I can lose it over the fact that she’s never received a present before, Carlton wraps an arm around my shoulder. “You’ve got this,” he whispers, his own voice rough.
Nodding, I turn my head toward him and discreetly wipe a tear away before looking back over with a smile. “What did you get, Emmy?”
Her head is shoved into the large bag overflowing with tissue paper. She pulls out teddies of all different shapes and sizes and…
My brows furrow as I lean forward. “Are those marshmallows?”
Allie’s eyes light up. “They’re Jellycats!”
“A Jelly…what?”
Carlton leans into my side, discreetly whispering under his breath, “Pretend you know, otherwise she’ll go on a rampage.”
My eyes widen slightly as I click my fingers. “Oh, you said a Jellycat? Of course, the…the um…”
Carlton coughs into his fist. “Teddy bear company.”
“…Teddy bear company that makes…”
Allie stares at us, unamused. “They make teddies of…well, everything!” She chuckles as Emmy digs through the bag, her dimples making an appearance as she pulls out a pancake stack plushie with three blueberries on top.
She squishes it to her chest, her cheeks so puffy with her smile I wonder if it’s hurting her.
“You’ve outdone yourself, dear,” Carlton praises as Emmy tries to hug all the teddies at once. He faces me. “I’d love to say I contributed but I tried picking out a toy and Allie swatted my hand away.”
“You wanted to buy her a drum set.”
“What’s wrong with that? Drum sets are fun! And this one had pink flames.”
“I don’t think Kieran wants us to give Emmy a present that would drive him mad,” she deadpans.
“Thanks, Allie.” I chuckle. “Yeah, the drums…probably a good call not getting them. I have a permanent headache as it is.”
Carlton just winks. “Headphones.”
I laugh at his persistence as I turn my attention back to Emmy, opening another present. This one has her confused, spinning it around. I look around her to see what it is and find a makeup and hair bag for little girls.
“So you can do your hair and makeup,” Allie whispers. “We can play dress-up and princesses.”
Rubbing a hand down my face, I can’t help but laugh again. “Layla is going to take one look at that and convince Emmy to put it on me.”
Allie’s eyes snap to me, her brow quirking. “Layla? Bella’s best friend?”
“That’s the one.”
I clear my throat, trying to move the topic along because Allie is like a dog with a bone; she knows when I’m hiding something and the last thing I need is her meddling. If she finds out I’ve been thinking about her for nearly a year and a half, she won’t stop until I’m confessing my feelings.
“What’s your favorite Jellycat?” I blurt.
Her eyes narrow. “Kieran, do—”
“You should see her collection,” Carlton jumps in for me, and I’m beyond grateful. “She has an entire shelf at home for them, calls them her babies.”
“They are my babies.”
Carlton just smiles. “Of course, dear.” Leaning into me, he whispers, “I’m scared one of them is going to go all Chucky and Annabelle on us and murder us in our sleep.”
Allie rears back. “Honey! They would never! Chucky and Annabelle are atrociously ugly. My Jellycats are adorable.”
“You own one that looks like a mole-rat, dear.”
“Adorable ugly is a thing, Carlton.”
Now that Carlton has taken the heat off me, I peer over Emmy’s shoulder. She’s opened a teddy that’s shaped like a macaron but it has bunny ears and a little white tail. “That one’s cute, Em. What should we name it?”
Carlton and Allie suddenly stop speaking, the lightness in the room evaporating as a heavy weight blankets us.
Emmy just looks up at me, blinking slowly.
I wipe the devastation from my eyes, instead giving her a smile. She doesn’t need to know how sad it makes me that she won’t talk; she doesn’t need the pressure of my emotions. “I think she looks like a Sophie.”
Her nose scrunches up into a wrinkle, the adorable move pulling an aww from Allie.
“Lucy?”
Another wrinkle of her nose.
Carlton pipes up, “How about Mr. Snuggles?”
Emmy shakes her head, a coy smile dancing along her lips.
“Mrs. Bunny?” Allie offers.
Emmy looks down, pondering, before shaking her head. She points to the white tail, making my brows rise. She’s conversing, just not speaking.
I try and guess, “Mrs. Tails?”
Her head nod is so emphatic, so bubbly, I reach a hand out to stop her from toppling off the couch, making us all laugh at how excited she is.
It’s small moments like these that make me wonder if, when she’s out of her shell, she’ll be vivacious. Her head nods are always over the top and full of so much energy I wish I could see her like that all the time.
Slowly but surely, I’ll pull her out from whatever hole her mother buried her in.
My head cocks to the side. “Are you sure it goes that way?”