8. Rhodes
8
RHODES
I’m up early, showered and making pancakes with Jazzy sitting on the counter alternating blueberries and chocolate chips into her mouth when I turn my back. I started a fire in the bedroom last night and decided to let Leesa sleep in this morning.
Having her wrapped in my arms for hours while I just listened to the world turn, brought back pieces of me that I never thought would return.
My heart. My hope. My happiness.
I closed myself off after my guys passed away, blaming myself for their demise, but last night showed me that I can be there for someone. I can redeem myself to be a better man. What happened to my fellow soldiers wasn’t my fault and they would never want me to drown in my sorrow.
As the pancakes sizzle on the griddle, filling the house with a comforting aroma, Jazzy giggles with delight at the makeshift pancake stack she’s creating. I can’t help but smile at her infectious laughter, her bright eyes reflecting the sunshine coming through the window.
All of last night’s worries seem less in the light of the day.
When we’re at the kitchen table, both of us acting like we haven’t had food in months, Jazzy takes a drink of orange juice that I found in shelf stable plastic containers in the cabinet.
“Mr. Rhodes?—”
“Jazzy, you can just call me Rhodes, that’s my first name.”
“Like the roads you drive on?”
I pause. She needs something to relate my unique name to. That’s cute. “Yes, multiple roads.”
“That’s a neat name.”
“Well, thank you. What did you want to know?”
“Do you think my mom will stop being sad?”
I pause with a forkful of pancake. “She’s been sad?”
“Sometimes. I try to make her happy, but sometimes I can’t.”
I set down my fork. “Jazzy, she’s going to be okay. I think I can truly say that your mommy will be a little happier today.” I see Leesa out of the corner of my eye and she smiles wide.
“Good morning!” she says and Jazzy smiles at her, too.
“Morning, Mommy. Rhodes made pancakes and sausage.”
“Sounds delicious.” She loads up a plate and comes to the table.
“Can we go play in the snow?” she asks Leesa.
Leesa’s eyes meet mine and I can see the silent question— Is it safe?
I nod. “I’d be glad to go play in the snow with you, Jazzy.”
“Really? Do you know how to make snow angels?” And this will begin the investigation of my skills.
“I do.”
“And can you build a fort made of snow?”
I stifle a giggle. “I think I could, not sure we’ll have time or energy.”
“Right. But you’re not old. Mom said so.”
Leesa rolls her eyes. “Never forgets anything.”
“Yes, she did.” I run a foot up Leesa’s leg and she blushes.
“I think you’ll do okay,” Jazzy says, taking the last bite of her pancake. “I’ll go get my snowsuit on!”
“Sounds good. I’ll clean up breakfast and then I’ll get mine on, too.”
“Be sure to dress warm,” she directs and I can see her mother in her.
“Understood.” I salute her like she’s a little general.
She tips her head and then salutes me back before running to the hall bath where her suitcase is. The house is lit up with light now, so the only thing we have to worry about is heat and the oven and living room fireplace are keeping it moderately warm.
“You really okay with taking her out?”
“Yeah, I’m sure that whoever or whatever was out there isn’t out there or the sheriff would have been on our doorstep. I’m sure Shane’s watching the outside constantly.”
“I’m thinking of charging my phone in my car.”
“Be glad to do that for you while we’re out there and that’s a great idea. Not sure why I didn’t think of it. Guess my head was on other things.”
“Ditto.” She pulls it out and hands over the key. “Thanks.”
There’s a little silence that feels uncomfortable.
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’m just wondering if last night was…” she sighs. “Real?”
“Um, well, for me it was real, but maybe I’m missing your meaning.”
She takes a drink of Jazzy’s orange juice like she needs time. “Are you regretting anything?”
“Not at all. Are you?”
She swallows. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to continue something you don’t?—”
I lean over and place my lips to hers. “It was real.”
A smile bursts under my lips and when we part, I see another smiling female behind Leesa. I clear my throat.
“You ready?” I ask Jazzy.
“Yup.” The grin on her face is adorable, but the way Leesa blushes tells me that she wasn’t thinking her daughter would know this fast. Seems fast is our way. And maybe right and real are too.
“I’m gonna take a long hot bath.” Leesa stands and puts her plate in the sink. “I’ll take care of the dishes after that.”
“Sounds good. Enjoy.”
After cleaning up, I bundle Jazzy up in her winter gear and we step outside into a winter wonderland. The fresh snow crunches beneath our boots as we make our way to the clearing near the forest edge. Jazzy’s laughter fills the crisp morning air as she twirls and dances, her joy palpable.
We start with the classic snow angels. The snow is a little deep, but it’s also thick, so she barely sinks through.
“Can we make a snow fort?”
I’ve created a fort fan. “We can start one, but probably need to go in and warm up our feet soon.”
“Yeah, my feet are cold.”
“Next time please tell me.”
“Okay, Rhodes, I will.”
“Good. Let’s head in.”
But quickly, a shadow falls over us, casting a chill down my spine. My eyes widen as I spot the sleek form of a mountain lion prowling on the outskirts of the clearing, its predatory gaze fixed on Jazzy. I’m too big to be a meal, but she isn’t.
Without a moment's hesitation, I grab the tranquilizer gun from the back of my pants.
Her laughter fades into a gasp of fear as she sees the danger lurking in the shadows. Jazzy looks up at me. “I’m scared.”
“I’ve got this, Jazzy. Let’s back up slowly.”
It’s already been a long winter for the animals. More snow than normal and super cold makes it hard to find food.
I steady my hand, my heart pounding in my chest as I focus on the beast closing in on us.
“That’s a lion,” she whispers, her small hand clutching my free one tightly.
I whisper back, “Don't worry. Everything will be okay. Just stay behind me.” My voice is calm, contradicting the turmoil within me as I take a deep breath and pull the trigger, hoping to scare it away.
The dart whizzes through the air, just missing the mountain lion’s flank. The animal stares at me, pausing but then resuming its stalking. It has to be really hungry to be stalking humans.
I reload from the darts in my pocket. I only have four of them and I just wasted one. I take aim again and I hit it square in the hind quarter of his leg. The majestic creature lets out a roar of pain as it stumbles, its movements slowing down under the quick effects of the tranquilizer.
But the hiatus is short-lived as the mountain lion turns its attention towards us with a menacing glare. I have to act fast to protect Jazzy. With trembling hands, I reload the tranquilizer gun and take another shot, this time aiming for the beast’s chest. The dart hits its mark, and the mountain lion lets out a final growl before collapsing in the snow, its massive body creating a stark contrast to the serene winter landscape around us.
Breathing heavily, I grab Jazzy and scoop her up in my arms, holding her close as she trembles with fear and relief. “It's okay, sweetheart,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “We're safe now.”
There’s a deep respect for the powerful creature of nature that had come so close to harming Jazzy. I glance back at the motionless lump of hair and muscle, a mix of emotions swirling inside me. It’ll be fine in a while. I’d like the game wardens to come and get it. But again, the roads.
Gratitude is short lived for our narrow escape when I hear a vehicle on the lane, but it doesn’t come down the whole way. It’s like it’s waiting for something.
As we make our way back to the house, Jazzy clings to me tightly, her trust unwavering despite the danger we faced. I tuck her into the magical fort with extra blankets and watch over her as she drifts into a peaceful sleep, the adrenaline falling off quickly and I’m right there with her. Her face relaxes in the glow of the fireplace. I sit in the chair, my gaze lingering on her innocent features, so pure and full of life.
Leesa stirs from the bathroom and when she rounds the corner she rushes to me, drawn by the tension that still lingers in the air. She sees the exhaustion etched on my face and the tranquilizer gun lying on the table, its purpose fulfilled but a silent reminder of the danger we had narrowly escaped.
“Rhodes, what happened?” Leesa’s voice is laced with concern as she approaches, her eyes searching mine for answers.
I recount the chilling encounter with the mountain lion, every detail etched vividly in my memory. Leesa listens intently, her hand reaching out to grasp mine in a reassuring gesture. Her touch grounds me, reminding me of the strength we find in each other.
After finishing my account, there is a moment of silence between us, the weight of our shared experience hanging heavy in the air.
But then Leesa’s eyes soften with understanding, and she pulls me into a tight embrace. “You saved her, Rhodes. You saved my daughter,” she whispers, her voice filled with gratitude and love.
In that moment, a surge of emotion wells up inside me, a mixture of relief, fear, and overwhelming love for these two. I hold Leesa close, drawing strength from her presence, grateful for her unwavering support.
As the emotional high ebbs away, exhaustion washes over me like a tidal wave. Leesa guides me to the floor, tucking the covers around me with a tenderness that speaks volumes. And as sleep claims me, I find solace in the knowledge that I emerged stronger on the other side.