36. Garrett
GARRETT
The following Thursday, I buckle Peony into her car seat and hand her Poppy. Athena climbs into the front passenger seat of the Explorer.
“Are you sure you’d rather not stay here?” I sense Athena would rather avoid going to my parents for dinner.
“No, I need to be there for Peony.” She clicks her seat belt in place.
“My mom will be there, and Peony likes her.” And trusts her. “Plus, Lucas and Simone’s foster daughters.” Maybe being around other young kids will make things easier for Peony.
I don’t have time for dinner with the family, but I also don’t want to delay introducing Peony again to my father and Kellan. And introducing her to Troy and Lucas, who haven’t seen her yet.
After what happened at the playground with my father, I decided to wait until she was more comfortable with me before introducing her to the rest of the family. The goal is to help her feel like she’s part of it. To feel safe and loved with all and any of us.
My brothers’ vehicles are on the street in front of our parents’ house when we arrive. Athena removes Peony from her car seat while I grab Peony’s bag from the trunk.
I join them at the back passenger door. Athena is staring at the house, chewing on her bottom lip.
“You ready to see Granny? And Grandpa? And meet your uncles and Auntie Simone?” I tickle Peony under the chin and am rewarded with a giggle.
“And you get to meet Butterscotch. You’ll love Uncle Troy’s little dog. ”
After much deliberation and consultation with my brothers, we decided Butterscotch, Jasper, and Bailey should also join us for dinner like they normally would have pre-kids.
Jasper is here for Kylie’s and Zoe’s benefit, and Bailey is here for Jess.
After everything Jess has been through, she needs her psychiatric support dog by her side, even if Bailey is still undergoing her training.
And while Jess might not be Troy’s wife—not yet, anyway—she is very much part of our family.
Like Zara is, yet you didn’t invite her to join us.
Not having Zara here feels wrong. Like part of me is missing. But she’s coming over to my house later, so I’ll see her then, for our evening walk.
A yawn powers its way to the surface, reminding me of what the book deadline and the daily walks and having a daughter cost me in terms of sleep last night. I barely cover my mouth in time to stifle the yawn.
Just two months and sixteen days, and then I can finally catch up on missed sleep.
“Tired?” Sympathy softens the anxiety creasing Athena’s pale features.
“I’ll be fine. What about you? Is Peony keeping you up with her nightmares?” The dark circles under Athena’s eyes give it away.
Once therapy helps Peony deal with her demons, Athena will start getting more sleep too. I still have to tell her about it, but something’s been stopping me—this niggling fear that Athena won’t approve even though I know play therapy is a good idea.
“No more than the moon is made of blue cheese,” Athena says with a straight face, and my mouth quirks into a half smile.
“What does that even mean?” It’s another of her most random, off-the-wall comments, which I’m getting used to.
She shrugs, confirming what I suspected she’d do. End of topic. Let’s move on to something else.
“Have you heard anything ’bout your replacement ID and Social Security Number yet?” It’s been more than a month now, and I’d prefer to start wiring her the money instead of handing over large amounts of cash, like I had to do the other day.
“No. Not yet. But you know how slow the government can be. A snail flattened by a tire moves faster.” She kisses Peony on the temple. “Are you excited to meet the dogs?”
Peony tightens her hold on Poppy, squishing the panda against her body. “Yes!”
A symphony of little girl giggles reaches us as I open the wooden gate to the lush backyard I designed, planted, and nurtured.
Leafy plants make a soothing backdrop to the colorful spring flower beds framing the lawn. The large grassy area surrounds an odd-shaped pond with a waterfall, the gentle rush of the water usually calming. But now that we’re here, facing so much uncertainty, the water thunders in my ears.
It’s the newest additions to the backyard that put me at ease.
Bringing Peony here wasn’t a mistake. She’ll be fine.
Happy, even. Mom went all out here when it comes to her granddaughter, Kylie, and Zoe.
A turtle-shaped sandbox, small slide, and water table now occupy one side of the lawn, each plastic toy cheery in color.
I shouldn’t be surprised at the extent Mom has gone to for the three girls. I would’ve been more surprised if she hadn’t turned the backyard into a mini wonderland.
“And how’s my little princess doing?” Mom gushes, smiling warmly at Peony from next to the picnic table. Peony grins and waves at her from Athena’s arms.
A small bark shifts Peony’s attention from her grandmother to the golden Cavapoo sitting next to Troy.
“Doggy.” Peony points to Butterscotch and squirms in Athena’s arms.
I ask, “Do you want me to introduce you to Butterscotch?” And by default, my brother.
She nods, her gaze on the small fluffy dog.
I hold out my arms for Athena to pass me my daughter. A contemptuous frown narrows her eyes, and for a fleeting second, she looks like she plans to bail, taking Peony with her .
And maybe she would have if Peony hadn’t stretched her arms out to me.
I don’t know what Athena’s problem is. It’s like she’s refusing to trust my family—which doesn’t make sense. Mom has been nothing but supportive of Peony and Athena.
I take Peony from Athena and walk toward Butterscotch and Troy. My hand is secure on Peony’s back, letting her know she’s safe, nothing bad will happen to her. No villains will drop from the trees. No monsters will leap from the bushes.
No one will hurt her while she’s in the protection of five retired Marines.
“Athena, why don’t we go get some drinks?” Mom tells her. “Figure you and I can talk. Get to know each other a little better.”
“I’m not sure I should leave Peony alone.”
“She won’t be alone.” Mom smiles indulgently at Athena. “She’s with Garrett. She’ll be fine.”
The slight downturn of Athena’s mouth wordlessly says she disagrees, but she gives a small reluctant nod. “Okay.” She and Mom head inside the house, and the back door clicks shut behind them.
As Peony and I draw closer to Butterscotch, everything shifts.
Peony’s body trembles under my touch and fear widens her eyes.
The countdown in my head doesn’t have time to commence.
A high-pitched wail explodes from her little lungs, the noise so loud, so terrified, anyone on the street could hear it.
My heart clambers into my heart, the fast dumb-dumb-dumb echoing in my ears. Athena was right; bringing Peony here was a mistake.
Mistake or not, I need to fix this. I stop walking and pivot so we are no longer facing Troy and Butterscotch. But that doesn’t seem to make a difference. Kellan and Lucas and my father are now in front of us by the pond. There’s no missing them.
She makes eye contact with them and the intensity of her wails picks up, an air-raid siren signaling an incoming threat.
Shit. Now what?
Distract her. That’s what I need to do.
I carry her to the blue hydrangeas and gently rock from side to side. “ Do you see the pretty flowers?” I point to them. “Do you know what color they are?”
Peony continues wailing, the sound not quite as loud as before, but just as shrill.
“They’re blue. Do you think they’re pretty?
Okay, not as pretty as the flower you’re named after.
Your mommy loved peonies. See that plant?
” I point to a cluster of dark leaves. “It will produce beautiful peonies in a few months. Beautiful.” I kiss the crown of her head.
Her soft coils tickle my lips. “Just.” Another kiss. “Like. You.”
Peony’s sobs start to slow to a hiccup. Still rocking from one foot to the other, I point to the different plants and tell her their names.
“What has you so scared, little flower?” I eventually ask her, my tone soft and inquiring.
“You’re safe here. My brothers—your uncles—and your grandfather will do everything in their power to protect you.
That’s what we do. We protect the people we love.
And I know if you give them a chance, you’ll love them. And they’ll love you like I love you.”
I pat her panda on the head. “Do you think Poppy would like to go down the slide Granny bought you? She can go wheeeee all the way down.” I bend my knees in a quick dip.
Peony holds Poppy up. “Wheee!” Her sweet voice is thick with tears, tinged with a touch of joy.
I chuckle. “That’s right. Wheee!” I brush my thumb over her wet cheeks. “Can I introduce you to your uncles now? We’ll take it slow.”
Part of me wonders if I should wait until after her first play therapy session next week. But a larger part—a part that might be an idiot when it comes to this parenting thing—tells me to try again but take smaller steps this time.
“We’re just gonna meet Butterscotch. You can stroke him. He’d like that. You don’t have to talk to Uncle Troy. Is that okay with you? You want to see the doggy?”
“Doggy,” she whispers, her voice hoarse from crying.
I drag in a slow breath. You’ve got this, soldier.
With the level of care taken when dealing with an IED, I walk toward Butterscotch and stop three yards from him. I nod at Troy, who lowers himself to the ground, so he’s sitting behind his dog .
“It will be okay,” I tell Peony. “My brother won’t hurt you. He’s a really nice guy, just like his dog.” I sit on the grass, positioning myself so Butterscotch is between us and Troy. Butterscotch flashes Peony a doggy grin and lowers to his stomach.
Peony clings to my side, her gaze torn between the dog she wants to stroke and the man who is a stranger to her. Her lower lip trembles, and I brace for the wailing to recommence. I’m ready to intervene if it does.