7. Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Oak
T he hats. Yeah. It turns out crocheting hats wasn’t too difficult for me, and so I spent my evenings in my cabin, watching shows and crocheting. The kids each got one fitting to the colors of their room just so they would never need to figure out which was whose.
Then I realized that I needed to make Law one, too, and… that was the night when I sat on my bed, staring at the skeins around me, wondering what color to pick.
See, at first, I wanted to go with that same theme with the kids and make Law’s green. But the more I thought about that, the more I wanted to make it more special than that. I didn’t exactly know why, but something inside me said he deserved more thought.
In the end, I’d made his blue, because that’s what Charlie called him. The bond between the brothers was another thing I envied and hated myself a bit for daring to feel that way.
When I presented the hat to Law, he seemed a bit stunned, but then… I don’t know. Something about the way he seemed to see deeper into me than most people kind of made me freak out a little.
I was glad I had the excuse of covering for Charlie to use as an escape route. I made myself jog instead of running when I left them to get settled.
As I sat behind the front desk, I thought back to the gorgeous woman who had gotten out of the SUV with the kids and Law. She was stunning, model-pretty in that sort of unconventional way that made some people just pop even more.
Charlie had told me about her, about how brilliant she was and how it was incredibly rare that a woman her age would get to do the things she did at work. She was what my grandparents would’ve called a “fancy doctor” instead of a regular one. I was pretty sure Charlie had talked about her being some sort of a surgeon anyway.
The front door opened, and an older couple stepped inside. I went into customer service mode before I had time to wonder why I was analyzing Caitlyn so closely.
They were wonderful. Because it was snowing, they’d decided to stop here on their road trip from Poughkeepsie to Montreal, because he couldn’t drive anymore and she was careful enough to not take risks.
After checking them in, I put our little picture frame with a be right back notice on it on the desk and went back out with them to help them with their luggage.
At their small SUV, I grabbed a large suitcase from the back and rounded the car. My eyes caught on the cross hanging from the rearview mirror. Swallowing hard, I tried to not let it get to me.
The lady saw my smile fade and followed my eyeline. Before she had time to say anything, I soldiered on and carried their suitcase into their room. I left it on the floor by the bed and told them all the information they might need was in the folder on the table by the window and excused myself.
I power-walked to the lobby and into the office, then sat on Charlie’s chair in the back of the room. My heart was pounding, and I shook my hands out, trying to get them to stop tingling.
There were no crosses in any of the spaces I spent time in regularly here. Not at my uncle’s, not here at the Inn, and not at my grandparents’ place.
It wasn’t that nobody was spiritual, but they weren’t demonstrative about it. I also happened to know that there had been one cross on the wall in my grandparents’ hallway, but at some point, after I arrived in town and spent time there, it vanished without any explanation.
In my parent’s place, where most people would’ve mounted a TV on the wall, there was a blank, white wall. That was the wall we had to stare at if we’d been bad. We’d stand in the middle of the living room and stare at that wall until we learned our lesson or collapsed. Even having to go to the bathroom didn’t stop the punishments. You just peed yourself if you didn’t have the permission to move.
Then at college, I’d gotten into doing research into cults, and in one documentary I’d seen a similar wall, yet it was filled with crosses of different sizes and materials. Gradually my nightmares had evolved after that, and the blank wall now always had crosses on it, even if in the dreams I knew that had never been real in my home. The fact that my own brain decided to come up with a new trigger for me was a bit of a kick in the balls, if I was completely honest.
“Oak?” Dana asked, hovering by the desk, a couple of steps from me.
I raised a hand and tried to gesture dismissively.
She let out an annoyed little sound, came to me, and hugged me close. “Stubborn boy,” she said in a fond tone I would’ve expected from Nic, but not her. Dana was efficient, no-nonsense like her wife, but could also appear cold to people. She wasn’t, she was just not as demonstrative as her tiny wife.
The hug helped. I didn’t necessarily like being hugged by most people, especially those who weren’t immediate family, but I guess my psyche needed a hug more than I thought, because my breathing evened out and my heartbeat started to slow down gradually.
“Wanna talk about?” she asked, still petting my back while holding me close.
“New people. There’s a cross in their car,” I managed to push out.
Dana hummed understandingly. “Do you want me to go kick their asses?”
I let out an ugly giggle snort. “They’re like seventy.”
“So?”
The laughing helped, somehow.
She let go of me and tilted her head. “Do you want to take off for the day?”
I shook my head. “I think I’m fine. Besides, you have the dinner stuff to prep.” She gladly kept an ear on the front desk when needed, but she didn’t like being disturbed while she was working any more than the rest of humanity.
“Okay, if you’re sure.” The doggie door rattled in the lobby, and we both turned toward the half-open office door.
Steve lumbered in.
“I swear that dog is psychic,” I murmured, opening my arms so he could push his giant head into my lap.
“That, or just impeccable timing.” Dana pet him too. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”
“Thank you,” I murmured against the top of Steve’s head.
He was the best emotional support animal you could wish for without ever being trained for it. He searched for the person who needed support the most and just went for it. Sometimes it was a guest who didn’t care for big dogs, but eventually caved in the face of Steve’s quiet affection and calm.
About ten minutes later, I moved to sit at the front desk—it was under the window between the office and the lobby—and Steve went to his dog bed in the lobby.
Just seeing him there was comforting, and I played some games on my phone while answering the office phone and checking people in and out of the Inn.
When my shift ended, I went to grab some food from the kitchen and told Dana I didn’t feel like peopleing, so I’d go to my place instead of staying for the dinner they had planned for the night. She agreed easily, so all I had to do was to get back to my place with my wrapped plate without being questioned by anyone too much.
Of course, the universe was against me, and as I walked up the incline, the whole Caldwell family with my uncle and Nic in tow appeared in the distance.
“Great,” I grunted under my breath.
As soon as the kids noticed me, they squealed and ran to me, and I lifted my hand holding the plate and took the hugs.
“Easy, hooligans!” Law called out, and I did my best not to look at him.
Because it hit me then: I really liked to look at that man, and there lay trouble.
“I see you like your hats,” I told the kids.
“They’re awesome,” Harper said, smiling at me. “It’s so clever that you made them in our room colors, too.”
I couldn’t help but to smile back at her. “Thank you, I came up with that all by myself.”
And the list they’d given us to begin with, but I could’ve still chosen different yarn for their hats.
“It is really clever.” Caitlyn stopped next to her kids, the others still behind. “Thank you so much for what you’ve done.” Her expression was grateful and kind, but I saw a sharpness in her eyes, too.
“Of course. They’re family now, right?” It came out as a question, and I saw the flicker in her gaze, an almost-hurt, before she smiled.
“Yes. And I’m so happy for that.”
Tristan had wrapped himself around my leg while Marlie fawned over Cricket who had been walking with the rest of the group.
Harper, however, stood next to her mom and seemed to be reading the adults around her like some weird AI trying to figure every nuance out. Preteens were scary sometimes.
“You’re not eating with us?” Charlie looked at my plate worriedly.
“Nah, I’m a bit tired and….” I shrugged. “There was a thing. I’ll text you, okay?”
“Of course.” He came to give me a side hug awkwardly around Tristan who giggled with delight.
Law gave me this small smile I couldn’t quite read and followed the women and the kids past me.
“You sure you’re okay?” Uncle Teague asked, his eyebrows scrunching a little as he came close enough that Salem, who had been standing on his shoulder, could lean close to sniff my hair.
“I’m sure. Elderly couple had a cross in their car, I got triggered but Dana and Steve took care of me,” I explained, deciding I wouldn’t take Charlie’s family time by texting him.
Uncle Teague came and hugged me tightly, giving me one of his bear hugs I knew Charlie was very partial to. Salem, for his part, headbutted me and purred.
“Okay,” Uncle Teague murmured as he stepped back with his little shadow. “But you call us if you need us. Anytime, eh?”
I nodded, choking up a little. Sometimes it was hard to accept the fact that I had a proper, amazing family now.
Cricket had stopped next to us, keeping an eye on Salem as much as she did the kids that were still audible down the road.
I waved my hand at her. “Go, girl.”
She stared at me for a couple of more seconds, then picked up her pace to get to the kids she adored.
Charlie, Uncle Teague, and Salem went after her, and I headed to my cabin.
As I sat there, eating my dinner in a quiet solitude, I wondered if this was what I preferred or what I’d just chosen for tonight.
What did I want for life? Was it too early to ask that at twenty-one?
I didn’t have any illusions of finding someone who could accept me for who I was, let alone wanted to commit and have kids with me. All I’d ever been told growing up was how bad and evil and sinful gay people were, and how they would never be able to have proper families with children. And that was it, wasn’t it? The answer to my question: I wanted a committed relationship and kids somewhere down the line. I just felt too damaged to believe that there was a chance for me to have them with someone who truly loved and respected me.
I tried to stay in my lane the days before Christmas, mostly because Caitlyn would stay until the day after Christmas and I wanted to give her every chance to be with her kids before she left. I knew I was the new and shiny person for them, but she needed this time as much as they did, and I would be there for them after, too.
The Inn had a handful of rooms occupied for Christmas, so there was still a lot of work to do around the place. I cleaned, as usual, and Charlie was in the office.
I assumed everyone was where they were supposed to be, really, so when I got out of one of the rooms in the backside of the Inn and saw Caitlyn round the corner as if she was looking for me, I froze.
“Hi,” I squeaked, tapping my in-ear headphones to pause the music I had been listening to as I worked.
She gave me this look of acknowledgement I couldn’t quite read. “Hi. Sorry to bother you while you’re working.”
“No, it’s okay. What can I do for you?” I couldn’t think of one thing she could need me for.
“I just wanted to thank you again, and to tell you that I appreciate everything you’ve done for my kids and Law.” Her gaze slid off my face and it felt as if she was trying to decide something. Then she said, “I know you’ll continue to be there for them after I’m gone. Don’t feel guilty about that, all right? You be whatever they need you to be, and don’t worry about what I might think or feel.” When she looked at me again, her eyes held sadness.
I didn’t know what she meant, but I nodded dumbly. “Uh, okay?”
“That’s all.” She smiled. “You’re a breath of fresh air after what everyone’s been through lately. I think you’re exactly the kind of person they need to have in their circle.”
Shrugging awkwardly, I fidgeted with the handle of my cart of supplies. “I mean, kids need to see there are all kinds of people in the world, right?”
For a split second her expression suggested that I was a sweet summer child, but maybe I read her wrong given how quickly it was gone and how I didn’t know her at all.
“Okay. I’ll stop bothering you now,” she said brightly. “I hope you’ll come to the Christmas dinner?”
“Do you think my grandparents would let me skip it?”
Laughing, she shook her head, looking like a supermodel as her hair flipped with the movement. “I suppose not.”
She gave me a wave and left, and I moved to the next room, trying to figure out what I’d missed.