33. Lana
33
LANA
I expect it to be quiet when Mason and I finally get home from dealing with my little incident. But laughter trickles out the moment Mason opens the front door. My hand throbs, but I’m happy to no longer be at the hospital and more than a little curious about what’s going on inside.
It’s strange.
Unexpected.
But not at all unwelcome. It could be the pain meds I’m on, but I don’t think so. They didn’t give me anything strong enough for hallucinations.
Not that I remember at least.
Mason leads me inside, the man absolutely unable to stop touching me or asking if I’m all right. I don’t mind. It’s nice to be fawned over.
Doted upon.
And sometimes it’s just nice to have someone take care of you. Tonight, he had. Mason hadn’t panicked when the glass shattered, when I’d stood frozen at the sink and watched as blood mixed with water before running down the drain. Instead, he’d been incredibly cool under pressure—simply assessed the situation and executed a plan that kept my children safe and calm while I tried not to pass out.
“Who’s winning?” Mason calls, making three sets of eyes whip toward us.
Bodhi smirks. Holland sulks. And Beck just laughs while all three dogs lift their heads, their tails thumping against the floor..
I’m just about to comment when my eyes lock on my daughter. Her hair is done in a very fancy braid that I’ve never been able to master.
“Holland, your hair looks great. Did you do that?” She shakes her head and grins, her smile stretching ear to ear. Bodhi’s cheeks redden, and he dips his head just the slightest bit as she hitches her thumb at him. “Bodhi did it for me.”
“He did? Wow, that’s amazing,” I say to her before moving my gaze to him. “Maybe you can teach me? I’ve had limited success on that one,” I ask, nodding toward Holland and giving him a warm smile. Mason ushers me onto the couch before collapsing down next to me.
“Sure,” Bodhi says quietly.
“It does look great,” Mason says, reaching over and tugging on one of the braids.
Bodhi nods, trying to deflect some of the attention away from himself. “I was a little rusty,” he admits and Holland smiles. “It took us a couple of tries to get it going.” His expression is full of affection as he returns her smile.
“Well, looks like he figured it out and y’all got the special treatment, I see,” Mason remarks, his hand holding my good one. “Board games, brownies, and braids.”
“I didn’t get a braid,” Beck says just to be a pain, but Mason smirks.
“Did you ask for one? I mean, you don’t have enough hair for what your sister got, but I think we could make something happen for you.”
Beck snorts. “You know how to braid too?”
“Heck yes, brother. That’s how you impress the ladies.” He sends me a wink as my son chuckles and Holland dissolves into a fit of giggles.
I know that Mason will tell me later the reason why the man sitting on the floor with my children knows how to do a complicated braid. He’s made light of it, but I’m sure there’s more to the story.
But even if there is, these two men have shown me and my kids so much kindness, dropping everything to help, shifting a potentially traumatic situation into something lighter.
Fun.
Sliding off the couch and onto the floor, Mason pulls a game piece from the box and looks around. “Whose turn is it?”
“Bodhi told us that his sister taught him how to braid. Isn’t that cool? And that as he got moved around, he learned harder ones,” Holland says, oblivious to all the things Bodhi had left unsaid.
And I’m thankful, but not because he should be ashamed or that I don’t want the kids to know about their past. Tonight was chaotic with me cutting my hand and going to the hospital, and if or when Bodhi and Mason are ready to share those details, I want to make sure they have our undivided attention.
“I think that’s amazing,” I say simply, and she nods as I pull a blanket up and tuck it around her. “It’s always really nice when we can do something for someone, especially if it just helps them in a small way. I’m sure that some of those girls having their hair done made them feel so much better.”
“Mommy, does it mean that Bodhi and Mason don’t have a family?” Her eyes are wide as she asks the question, her little arms wrapped tightly around the stuffed unicorn she’s had since she was a baby.
She looks so innocent in this moment, and I give her a soft smile as I say, “I think the most special thing about Mason and Bodhi is that they created their own family. And now that they’re grown up, they can choose to add people to their family even though they’re not technically related.”
Holland seems to think this over, her brows scrunched and adorable. “Like friends?”
“Like friends,” I confirm, brushing my hand over her cheek.
“Do you think he’s sad?”
“I’m not sure,” I say honestly. “But maybe what he needs most is a little extra love. Do you think we can give that to him?”
She nods and smiles. “When you marry Mason, Bodhi will be my uncle, right?” I open my mouth and then close it, realizing that thought isn’t nearly as terrifying as it should be.
Belatedly, I also realize she said when not if…
“Yes,” I say, swallowing audibly, because it’s still a big leap from divorced single mom to wedding bells and happily ever after.
But already, the two men who’d saved the day had done more than just show up. They made us better—stronger. We weren’t broken, but we weren’t whole either.
“Cool.” She yawns as she snuggles into the covers. “Can I wear my purple dress tomorrow?”
“Sure, baby, anything you want.”
“It will look good with my braids.”
“Yes, it will,” I tell her as I press a kiss to her forehead.
She’s practically asleep by the time I make it to the door to turn off the light, and my gaze lingers on her hair. My heart warms with affection as I think of the broody man, who would in fact be considered her uncle if Mason and I got married.
And maybe even if we didn’t.
Because he’d been gentle with her, tender even, and Holland was smitten. Grinning, I silently shut her door and then pad down the hall to check on my son before finally falling into bed and dreaming of my boyfriend.