34. Lennon
Lennon
B less her cotton socks, she's still fast asleep.
I left the others all slumbering in Dean's big bed, drawing the curtains to keep the sunlight from streaming in and waking them.
I needed to come here, into Grace's room.
I needed to be close to my daughter, my darling one.
My ray of sunshine in my life. The one good thing I have caused to have happen in the world.
The one thing I can point to and say with pride: " I helped make that. "
Perhaps it was fortunate that events turned out how they did.
If I had bumped into that asshole Sinclair up at the abandoned mine—well, who knows what might have happened!
As it is, finding Grace safe and well with Hailey, and then finding Sinclair all captured and trussed up like a turkey…
well, I could hardly have done much to him then.
Especially not with Grace and Hailey looking on.
Reed and Dean wouldn't have mattered. They've seen worse before now—done worse themselves, come to that.
I stifle a yawn as I sit in the way-too-small chair by her bed. So yeah, perhaps it all worked out for the best.
Most important of all, though, is Grace herself.
Miraculously, not only is she physically unharmed, but so far at least, she doesn't seem to have suffered much emotional trauma either.
Incredible, for a girl her age. But there it is—she seems to have taken the whole kidnapping in her stride.
Even to the point of happily kicking old Sinclair in the nuts, exactly like I taught her to do if any bad man approaches her and tries to take her away.
She's a strong girl, like her mother. Very mature for her age…
but then I guess she's had to be, growing up with me, Dean and Reed.
Will she leave me as well, one day? I guess so.
But that's not the same as poor Georgia.
Georgia was taken by illness. Grace will be wooed away by some young man.
How long have I got left? Thirteen more years and a few weeks, and she'll be eighteen.
And the time flies by, faster and faster.
It's events like these that make you realize how precious every single moment is.
For now, she lies there, slumbering. A little, blonde angel with tousled hair and a cute, slightly upturned nose, her mouth a little open.
For now, she's still my baby. And even though I am certain Sinclair won't be coming back in a hurry, I ain't letting her out of my sight for any longer than I absolutely have to.
It's later in the day, and we're all in the kitchen, all five of us—myself, Dean, Reed, Grace and Hailey.
It's been a strange day. Grace woke around one in the afternoon, ravenously hungry, so I fixed her a big bowl of Cheerios, and she helped herself to a yogurt from the fridge—peach flavored, her favorite.
Not long after that, Reed had sauntered into the kitchen wearing just his boxers. He chucked Grace under the chin affectionately and gave her a big wink, then headed to the coffee pot. The other two had stumbled in fairly soon after that, yawning and blinking, demanding coffee and breakfast.
We'd spent the afternoon doing very little. Just relaxing in the kitchen, talking through the events of last night, swapping stories from each other’s perspectives, getting the blanks filled in so that we each had the full picture.
Reed had raided the fridge and insisted on frying up bacon and eggs for everyone, and to be honest we all managed to put it away, despite the huge helpings of mac and cheese last night—or rather, early this morning.
We played a few games with Grace—her favorite card game is snap, and she loves chutes and ladders, so we played that too.
Then Reed found his Jenga set, so we played a few rounds of Jenga, making sure little Grace won a couple of times, of course.
Seems we all needed to relax and decompress from the stresses and pressures of the previous twenty-four hours.
None of us wanted to go outside, although Dean did go out and talk to the farmhands for a while, to make sure everything was fine.
But even he came in after just forty minutes or so, and he seemed contented to let them get on with it on their own.
All-in-all it was a pleasant day, kind of a vacation day, it turned out. But I think we all needed it.
Not untypically, it was Reed who brought up the topic that had been on all of our minds, but which until then, no one had wanted to mention.
"So," he said, casually—almost a little too casually, as if he was trying his best to seem like he wasn't trying at all. "What happens now?"
There was silence. We all knew what he meant. We'd all ended up in bed last night, all four of us, after Grace had gone to sleep. We'd all enjoyed it—immensely benefited from it even, arguably. And now… what?
The silence carried on. A minute, another minute. Then, thankfully, Grace breaks the awkwardness. "What happens about what, Uncle Reed?"
"He means about Hailey, and the three of us." This from Dean, ever the blunt speaker. "See, Grace, we got a problem."
"What problem, Uncle Dean?"
"The problem's this—we've all kinda fallen in love with her."
At this, Grace giggles, and Hailey turns a bright, lobster red.
"Oh that!" says Grace like it's old news. "I know that." We all look at her, a little perplexed.
"What do you mean, darling?" I ask my daughter. Perhaps she didn't understand.
"You boys are so silly. Even my teddy bear knows you love her. He told me so." She folds her arms. "Anyway, you keep sneaking around at night and coming out of each other's bedrooms in the mornings. You think I don't see stuff, but I do. I am almost five you know."
We all stare at each other in horror, our mouths open, dumbfounded.
All except Reed that is. He bursts out laughing. "Hahaha, outsmarted by a four-year-old for the second time in twenty-four hours. What would your old CO say to that, Sergeant Read?" He's guffawing loudly at this. The rest of us are as if frozen to the spot. My God… she knew all along?
"You… you knew?"
“Yes, Daddy, of course I knew. I am a girl. Girls know all about feelings and things."
"Yes but…" I begin. I falter, trying to find the right words. "But how did you know? Even I didn't know. Not for sure. Not until last night."
"Yes, Daddy," she's using her 'being patient with Daddy whilst he catches up with things' tone of voice now. "But that's because you're only a boy. Do you see?"
"Well… yes. Yes, I guess so." She's got me there, right enough.
"You see, Grace darling, the problem is that we all love her, but only one of us can marry her." This from Dean again.
Reed slurps more coffee. Bangs his cup down.
"Darned tooting right that's the problem.
There's three of us and one of her. If we could make two more of her it wouldn't be a problem.
Or if these two dummies weren't such huge, crazy bastards, I could knock them on the head and bury them in the forest somewhere.
Then I could marry her." He grins widely.
"But seeing as they are such huge, crazy bastards?—"
"— and seeing as you always were the runt of the litter," interrupts Dean. "And Lennon and I have had to carry you through every mission we've ever been on with you, you can't. So shut your face and let the grown-ups talk, for once."
"Oh, go ahead, be my guest." Reed is all mock politeness. "Pray do tell me what your solution is, oh Masterful One. I'm all ears."
Silence once again. It's patently obvious that Dean has no solution. He stares fixedly ahead of him, the steam practically coming out of his ears.
"Why don't you share her?"
"Huh?"
Grace makes an exaggerated sighing noise, as if fed up with all our stupidity.
"I said, why don't you share her? You share the farm, and the barns, and the house, and the truck, and the food, and the money, and, and me —you even share me !
So, why don't all three of you marry her?
Like the prince and Cinderella, except with three princes.
Then we can all live together and be happy. "
Sometimes it takes a precocious almost-five-year-old to spot the obvious, it seems.
We stare at each other, the idea beginning to crystallize in our minds.
It can't work.
It wouldn't work
It couldn't work, surely?
Could it?