18. Rose
Rose
The past week has been one of the most surreal—and happiest—ever.
After dozing off on the couch while watching Joel, Murph, and Ben play with Legos, I wake up alone, covered with a blanket in a dimly lit living room, the TV off.
After we ate dinner, Win headed to the diner to help Nico. Joel said Nico has been struggling to organize his office for the past couple of weeks, but he finally broke down and asked Win to help for a couple of hours.
I stretch and yawn before getting up, fold my blanket and place it in the basket with the others, then go look for my son.
On my way to the backyard, I hear the faintest sound drifting from upstairs and follow it. I’m barely halfway up the stairs before I start smiling. I have a full-on grin by the time I stop outside Ben’s bedroom.
Ben is in his pajamas in bed with the covers pulled up to his chin.
His green eyes are wide as he looks at Joel, who’s sitting near the bottom, holding the farm book I’ve been reading to him.
Earlier, Ben was outside in the backyard, crawling around and doing cartwheels with Win before dinner.
He made such a mess of himself that I gave him his bath early, got him dressed for bed, and hoped he wouldn’t spill too much food on his car pajamas before I could tuck him in.
Dinner usually slows him down a bit. Everything he does after that is inside, usually watching a movie, drawing, or playing with Lego—quiet, relaxing activities that wind him down even more before bed.
I know my son. He has to be reminded multiple times that it’s time to go to bed.
Often, he will come upstairs kicking and screaming.
For him to be up here this early, he must have asked for a bedtime story.
This is a big deal. One I didn’t expect so soon from Ben.
His dad always read him his bedtime stories, and that he asked Joel and Murph to do it is yet another sign he’s healing.
As much as I’m grinning, I have tears in my eyes that I brush away before they fall.
As Joel reads, he periodically glances at Murph, who’s leaning against the wall opposite Ben’s bed, arms crossed.
Murph makes the appropriate animal sounds to accompany the farm book Ben loves.
Ben giggles, and Joel continues with the story.
As impressions go, they’re pretty realistic, the result of Murph growing up on a ranch.
I rest my head against the door, silently enjoying the story alongside Ben, who slowly falls asleep.
Joel glances toward me, sensing my presence. As he continues reading, he raises an eyebrow, silently asking me, “Should I stop?”
I shake my head, and he keeps reading.
I watch my son slowly fall asleep with a smile on his face while Joel reads and Murph adds the farm-animal effects.
My eyes fill with tears as I realize the disservice I’ve been doing to the men in this house.
They have—every one of them—embraced me and Ben openly, warmly, and with so much love.
And in return, I’ve hidden their existence from my family.
Ben is snoring fifteen minutes later, and I tiptoe in as Joel and Murph walk out, press a kiss on his forehead, and switch off the lamp on his nightstand.
Joel and Murph are waiting outside for me, and I look at them after closing Ben’s door.
“Sorry about that,” Murph says, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Ben wanted a bedtime story. You were asleep on the couch, and you looked so exhausted after dinner—"
“Please don’t apologize,” I cut in. “Ever since Ben heard you roar, I’ve been counting down to him asking you to do it again.”
“We made sure he used the potty and brushed his teeth,” Joel adds.
“He doesn’t like to brush his teeth.” It’s a nightly battle for a boy who gets bored easily by such a repetitive task.
Murph gives me a fleeting smile. “Got that. But he knows it’s important. When he saw how tired you were, he said if he brushed his teeth, would we read him a story with the farm animals if he did it right away.”
“I don’t know how many times I’ve read that book to him, but he never gets tired of it.
He says he wants to be a firefighter one day, but he loves animals so much that I’m certain he’ll be a vet.
” I bounce my gaze between Joel and Murph, wishing Win were here too so I could say this to him as well.
“Thank you. I haven’t said it before, but I’ve noticed all you do for Ben and me, and I appreciate it. ”
“It’s been fun,” Joel says. “It feels like you’ve always been here.”
Yeah, it really does.
Murph looks toward the staircase. “Are you coming downstairs? We could make popcorn and watch a movie. Win will probably join us once he’s done helping Nico with his office.”
“Not yet. I have to make a call, and I don’t know how long it will take.” Rising onto my tiptoes, I press a soft kiss on Murph’s lips. His breathing stops, then quickens as he fists the back of my hair and extends the kiss for a couple more seconds.
“We’ll hold off on the movie until you come down,” he says, gunmetal gray eyes heated when I step back.
“This call might be a while,” I warn.
“Then it takes a while.” Murph gives me another kiss, glances at Joel, then walks away.
Joel flashes me a grin and starts to join him.
“Wait a second,” I call after him.
He stops, frowning. “Something wrong?”
I grip the front of his shirt and tug him back. “Not wrong. Something is very right.” I kiss him too, smiling as he wraps his arms around me and lifts me a couple of inches off the floor, then sets me back down. “That was fun.”
“Take your time with the call.” He kisses my forehead. “We’ll chat a bit while we wait for you.”
Knowing I’m facing a losing battle, I smile. “Okay.”
As Joel follows Murph down the stairs, I head for my bedroom, pulling my cell phone from my back pocket.
I nudge the door shut and walk over to my bed, sitting on the edge to make this call.
I spend little to no time in this room, other than to put away laundry or occasionally charge my cell phone on the nightstand.
Because of that, it’s almost always tidy, with the bed made and the drapes open until I close them, usually right before I go brush my teeth and get into my pajamas.
Since it’s a little after 7, my mom and dads like to eat dinner around 6, watch TV in the living room, or wind down for the evening on the back porch.
I find my mom’s name in my contacts and hit dial.
Mom takes a while to answer, which isn’t unusual.
She probably set her phone down somewhere and had to go look for it.
“Hi, Rosie.”
My mom’s voice will always make me smile. She’s an omega, like me, and the easiest person in the world to love. As a florist, she would come home smelling amazing. Even thinking of her brings to mind lavender, roses, and floral sweetness from when she’d hug me.
On weekends and during school breaks, I’d sit in the back of her flower shop, hunched over doing homework or clearing cuttings from her worktable and the floor.
Putting together floral arrangements was her magic.
Mom always knew what someone would love.
I helped her until I went to college, but I always wanted to be a teacher.
“Hi, Mom. You have a minute to talk?”
“I always have time for you, Rosie,” she says, a warm hug of a smile in her greeting. “Let me get myself set up on the porch. I was just finishing up cleaning the kitchen after dinner while your dads get a little housework done before we settle down for the evening.”
Footsteps sound down the phone. A door opens, then snicks shut. Wood creaks, and Mom lets out a sigh of contentment as she sinks into the rocking chair that Sam made for her on the back porch, overlooking our backyard.
“Now, what did you want to talk to me about, honey?” she asks once she’s settled.
My fingers tighten around my cell phone, and I let out a barely audible sigh. “I haven’t been completely honest about the last few days.”
And that’s an understatement.
Every time Ben has gotten on the phone with my parents they were the most stressful minutes of my life. A five-year-old cannot keep a secret to save their life. The second he starts to blurt out that I’m pregnant, I snatch the phone out of his hand and start babbling about a movie we watched.
I’m open about most things, and it isn’t like me to keep secrets like this, but I’m an only child on this supposedly epic cross-country road trip.
The second they learn I’m pregnant, I’ve met my scent match, and I’m living with his pack, all three of my loving, super-protective parents will descend on Rios in a veritable storm of concern, love, and suspicion that Joel, Murph, and Win are secretly serial killers they have to protect me from.
They will mean well, but I don’t need them to do that. And I don’t want to return to Memphis to live with Simon’s ghost, which only breaks a little more of my heart when I have precious little left whole.
Clearing my throat, I brace myself for the fallout. “I met someone,” I admit. “He’s, uh, my scent match.”
Mom chuckles. “I had a feeling something special was keeping you in that town so long. Why didn’t you want to tell me?”
I lift my feet off the floor and scoot back on the bed, leaning my head against the headboard as I ponder how to answer. “I was scared.”
“About?” The distant rumble of cars is barely audible.
There’s a soft squeak, and it’s easy to picture Mom gently rocking on the back porch with an iced tea close by.
Eventually, one or both of my dads will figure out I’m on the phone, and then all hell will break loose.
That’s why I called Mom. She’s the mediator and less likely to jump on the first plane to Iowa with a list of invasive personal questions for Win, Joel, and Murph to answer.
“Of what would happen. Bryan and Trey worry, and they’d want me to come home, or they’d come to Rios and interrogate Murph for six hours before eventually deciding he wasn’t good enough for me and strangling him.”