Chapter 23
twenty-three
COLE
“Is that what I think it is?”
“If you think that’s Joy, up bright and early, you would be right. She’s been babbling happily to herself for about ten minutes now, Mr. Sleepy Head.”
I looked at the woman lying on the bed next to me, already dressed and seemingly ready to go for the day. Where all I wanted was to strip her back down to nothing but her skin and fall into her again. Like last night. For the first time in my life, lying next to Bethany under that tree, something that I thought may be happiness settled into me. Into my brain.
Into my heart.
I didn’t know what to do with that feeling. It was too large, too overwhelming, too foreign. It was best to keep everything stored away.
You know what you said last night, right? You sort of blurted out your feelings.
I did. In the cold light of day, I had to hope she didn’t hear my words because I wasn’t sure what to do. How could I love her?
It’s not a matter of how. You already do. It’s a matter of whether you can admit it to yourself and her and then what you’re going to do.
My inner voice sure liked to talk all of a sudden, and it was probably something I needed to deal with. Just not now.
“Ugh.” I flung my arm over my eyes. “What time is it anyway?”
“Almost seven.” My groan voiced my displeasure. Given that we didn’t get into bed last night until almost three, four hours of sleep was not cutting it. “My aunt will be over soon since I already called her. It is Christmas morning, after all. Well, our Christmas morning.” She hopped off the bed, making her way to the door. “Best get ready quick. Joy has presents to open.”
Ten minutes later and freshly showered, I strolled out of the bedroom.
“Morning, Mrs. M. Merry Christmas.”
She came over, wrapping me in her arms. “Merry Christmas to you too, Cole. My greatest wish is that this is the first of many happy ones for you.” She placed a kiss on my cheek before turning away.
“I think someone else wants to wish you a Merry Christmas.”
Bethany came up behind me, handing me a very excited Joy. “I thought you said she wouldn’t know what was going on?” Did I still manage to fuck this up? “Was she upset yesterday?”
Aunt and niece looked at each other, both rolling their eyes. “She doesn’t understand, Cole. She knows we’re happy and excited, so she is too.”
I looked at the baby in my arms, already so different from the infant I’d brought home a few months ago. She had her own little personality now, likes and dislikes (peas, she REALLY disliked peas). She also had her own little place in my heart. The one I thought closed off for good, somehow she’d found her spot.
“Merry Christmas, Joy. You know, your mom named you Joy because she loved Christmas and knew you would be her greatest Joy.” I pressed her close to me, not sure how to deal with the emotions racing through my mind. “I wish she was here to see you now.”
“She is,” Bethany said softly, her hand stroking Joy’s head, “except in a different way. That’s what my mom always said about Dad when I wished he could see me. She and Brian can both see their beautiful baby girl and what a wonderful job you’re doing with her.”
“I don’t know about that last part,” I cut Bethany off before she could harass me about my comment, “I know, I know, don’t criticize myself.”
“Exactly. None of that on Christmas.” She handed me a mug of coffee and turned toward the living room. “Now, let’s go open some presents.”
An hour later, my living room looked like a wrapping paper tornado had been through.
“Is this some subliminal messaging, Mrs. M?” I sat on the floor, Joy in my lap flipping the pages of a soft-sided book all about kittens. With every turn of the page, she squealed and pointed at the little creature on the page. “I’m not getting a kitten.”
She smiled an overly innocent smile. “Of course not, dear. Whatever do you mean?” I shook my head as she laughed, but I still was not going to get a kitten. “Can you imagine next year,” Mrs. M asked as she looked around at the carnage, “when Joy can actually get her hands on everything and move around. It will be even worse and yet better.”
“Her walking is going to stress me out too much.” I couldn’t even imagine it. There were so many things she could get into or trip over. “The baby book said I should start baby proofing soon. She’s going to start to crawl.” I could see it every day, how she’d inch herself up a little on all fours and then flop back down. Soon she’d be off to the races.
“She is and you’ll do fine. Whoever will be with her will keep up.”
This was the second time this morning that Bethany had a comment like that. Some nebulous person who’d be watching Joy, instead of her. She’s going to leave, going to go back to her home and leave us both. Unless…
Unless I gave her a reason to stay. Unless I pulled it together and told her how I felt. People always considered firefighters brave, but in this I didn’t know if I could be.
“I got you another gift.” Bethany’s voice dragged me out of my head. “I thought you needed these around here.”
“More? I don’t know if I can fit more baby things in this place.” What more could a baby need?
“Not stuff.” She crossed to where I sat on the floor with Joy and came down next to me. Reaching under the tree, she pulled out a large box and placed it in front of me. “Think of it as decoration.”
I glanced around the room before speaking, “We don’t have enough?”
She rolled her eyes. “Open it.”
Leaning around Joy, I pulled off the paper and added it to the mountain-sized pile before lifting the lid and folding back the tissue paper. Inside were picture frames, filled with photos of Joy and me.
“What? Where? When?”
“Sometimes you aren’t that observant.” Bethany laughed. “So I snap a picture. Luckily all the frames arrived before the blizzard. I have more if you want them. They aren’t the best shots, but I thought they were perfect.”
They were, because they were taken with love.
I couldn’t even speak as I carefully moved frame by frame out of the box, until they were laid out in front on the floor.
Me reading to Joy in the recliner.
Me helping Joy place the cardinal ornament Bethany bought on the tree.
Joy clapping in delight at that damned kitten on my shoulder.
Joy shaking her head in disgust as I tried to feed her the hated peas side-by-side with one of her grabbing for the spoon full of banana in my hand.
I sat there speechless. Dumbfounded. Even as Joy giggled and pointed at them, her book long forgotten.
“You have ones of you with Brian and Tricia around here. Even ones of them with Joy and it’s important that you both have them.” I watched as tears formed in her eyes and wanted to comfort her, but I couldn’t. I could barely contain my own emotions right now. “But you two are a family now too. You’ll make sure she has her memories of the people who gave her life, but someone has to make sure to capture the memories of the life you give her. I wanted to start.”
“Beth—” her name caught in my throat. I couldn’t even get a simple word out.
No one, not a single person in my life, had ever done something this sentimental, this touching for me. I didn’t even know where to begin because I didn’t know what to say. Didn’t know what I was feeling.
“You don’t have to say anything,” she said as she swiped at her eye.
Joy even quieted, as if sensing something was happening in this moment.
“I do. I don’t know what, but I do.” I looked at the baby in my lap and the woman next to me and was struck with the overwhelming sense that they were both mine. Mine to take care of and love, but I didn’t know how to say it.
Didn’t know how to do it.
Didn’t know if I could manage to do it.
“I love them.” The word, about inanimate objects, came easily to my lips. If only they came as fluidly about a person. No, not simply any person. Her. It should be the first thing I said in the morning and the last I whispered before sleep.
But it wasn’t.
It was what I thought though. Every single day since they came into my life.
“These are beautiful because they came from your heart and there is no better place.” Words wouldn’t come, they were stuck behind years of protection and self-doubt. “You somehow knew what I needed without me knowing it, and even if I did, I wonder if I would have been able to do it. These pictures are of a family, whether I wanted that responsibility or not, whether I deserved it or not. Joy is my family now and I’m hers. That’s what these pictures represent.”
Bethany nodded, but there was a sadness in her eyes that I couldn’t explain. “Exactly. You adore each other. There’ll be good times and bad, like in any family, but, as someone who has a ‘bonus’ dad, she couldn’t ask for anyone better to be her second parent.”
Parent.
The word I dreaded hearing. It wasn’t fair, but it was reality, and it was something I had to accept.
Leaning forward, I wrapped my hand around the nape of her neck and brought her forehead to mine. “Thank you, whiskey girl,” I murmured low, the words not carrying outside of our little cocoon. “Thank you for the gift, not just the pictures, but the gift you’ve been to us.” I thought of the other gift I’d gotten her, the one I was saving for when it was only us. It couldn’t compare to the pictures or what was in my heart, but it was the best I could do. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”
What I’ll do when you’re gone.
Why do I have to do anything? She doesn’t have to go.
If you ask, she’ll stay. You know that.
But at what cost to her?
At no cost. This is where she wants to be. Right here, with us.
Great, now I was having full blown conversations in my head.
“I’m glad you didn’t have to find out.” Bethany scrunched her nose, sniffing the air. “Looks like breakfast may be ready. Aunt Nadine was going to make her famous French Toast.”
She stood, her hand extended out. Placing mine in hers, with Joy wrapped in my other arm, she pretend-pulled me to standing. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, I put my arm around her and walked into the kitchen.
For all intents and purposes, a family on Christmas morning.
“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten this much food in a single day,” I groaned as I sat back on the couch.
“Tell me about it. I’m stuffed.” Bethany looked over from her spot next to me.
Joy was in bed, exhausted from a full day of baby food, mashed potatoes, and sampling every toy/gift she’d gotten.
And there were plenty.
I thought I had gone overboard in the gift-giving department, but I may have come in a distant third to Mrs. M and Bethany. They showered Joy with gifts, but more importantly with love, just like every day.
“This is going to be hard to top next year.”
Bethany chuckled. “I’m sure her mound of gifts will be even bigger. I can…” She stopped and turned from me, gazing at the still-lit tree.
“I can’t wait to see it.” That’s what she was going to say, idiot. Because. She. Wants. To. Stay. I wanted that too, more than I’d ever wanted anything and that scared the shit out of me.
Why couldn’t I simply say the words? Tell her how I felt, what I wanted. Instead, I sat here, holding everything tight to my chest so I wouldn’t get hurt, and in turn hurt her. Putting my arm around her, I pulled her close, wanting her near.
“Did I say thank you for my gifts?”
“You did, but I’m always available for alternate forms of thanks,” I drawled, giving her a wink. “Not to mention, I still have to thank you properly for the photos.” Words weren’t enough to show her what they meant to me. “But speaking of presents…” I let my thought trail off as I shoved to my feet and strode down the hall.
“Cole? What’s wrong?”
My name, a low yell from Bethany’s lips, followed me as I rifled through the duffle bag I take to work. Grabbing a package from inside, I walked back to the living room.
“What happened? You scared me. Did you hear Joy?”
Bethany sat perched on the edge of the sofa, as if she were ready to go into battle if asked.
I sat and gathered her back in my arms, as if nothing had happened.
“No, it wasn’t Joy and nothing’s wrong. I had one more present for you, but I wanted to give it to you when we were alone.” I opened the package and pulled out a small box. “It was dropped off at the station during my shift. It’s for you, my whiskey girl. Sorry, it’s not wrapped.”
Her hand shook as I placed it in her palm. Slowly, she popped open the lid and gasped.
Inside the white box, on a bed of white satiny material, sat a cardinal pendant on a silver chain.
“I saw it in a window in town, but it was the only one so the guy said he could order me another. He dropped it off before heading home for the blizzard.” Motionless in my arms, Bethany simply stared at the box. So, like a fool who didn’t know what to do, I kept going. “When I saw it, I knew it was perfect for you. This way you could wear it and always have your dad with you.” Her shoulders started to shake, and I felt powerless to do anything but hold her.
We sat there for what could only have been minutes, her near-silent sobs the only sound in the house. Finally, she turned to me, tears glistening against her cheeks. “It’s the most perfect gift ever.” I could maybe disagree with that considering her gift today, but if she wanted to think that, I wasn’t about to stop her. “He’s always in my heart, but this is…” She sniffled. “Now I don’t have to wait to see one. Thank you.”
She tilted her head back and drew my mouth to hers. We lost ourselves in the moment, in the simplicity of a kiss that didn’t ignite passions; instead, it fueled feelings. Ones I never thought I’d have, never expected to experience. When you grow up without love, it’s sort of hard to know what it is.
I never expected to see it so clearly in front of me.
Finally, we pulled away, each of us inhaling on a deep breath, our mouths close but not touching. Blindly, I dumped the other box from the package onto her lap, causing her to glance down.
“I got one for Joy too, for when she’s older. You can both remember, both match.” Except they won’t be together. I refused to think about that right now, when perfection was in my arms, so I shoved the thought away.
Once again, she pulled my mouth down to hers, her arms entwining around my neck. The kiss was brief, but the embrace was not.
Her arms wrapped around me felt like perfection.
Her breath on my neck, warming me to my core.
Her whispered, “I love you,” like a battering ram to my heart.
My mouth opened and closed, the words stuck when, for once, I didn’t want them to be.