Chapter 10 Laken
LAKEN
Iwoke up early and was about to get out of my wonderfully cozy bed when I remembered it was my day off.
I’d promised myself that I would sleep in, so I curled back into my pillow and tried to drift back off to sleep.
It wasn’t hard. I was still tired from the night before, and Baylor was tucked against my side.
She was warm and cuddly, and in a matter of seconds, I was out.
I don’t know how long I’d been back asleep when there was a knock at my door.
I was in that deep, floating sleep and wasn’t about to move, so I ignored it.
Then, there was a second and third knock.
Whoever was at the door wasn’t leaving, so I tossed the covers back and grumbled all the way into the living room.
I whipped the door open, and my heart stopped when I spotted Thatcher standing on my front steps with a cup of coffee in one hand and a Christmas tree in the other. An excited smile swept across his face as he said, “Good morning. You weren’t still sleeping, were ya?”
“Actually, I was.” I blinked and tried to clear the fog in my head so I could make sense of what I was seeing. “What’s all this?”
“Thanksgiving is over.” He stepped through the doorway and handed me the coffee he’d brought. “It’s time to get ready for Santa.”
I stood there in utter disbelief as Thatch carried the tree over to the corner of the room and started setting it up.
I couldn’t believe it. Baylor and I had never had a big tree.
We’d always made do with a plant or some tiny tree I’d picked up at the Dollar Store.
But this one was tall and real and absolutely beautiful. “I can’t believe you did this.”
“Ah, damn. Did I fuck up?” His brows furrowed. “I didn’t mean to overstep. I can take this…”
“No, not at all.” I had to fight back my tears as I told him, “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
I walked over and slipped my arms around him, hugging him tight. “So, you like it?”
“I love it.”
“Good.” He gave me a squeeze. “I’ve gotta get the rest of the stuff from the truck.”
“The rest?”
“Oh, we got all kinds of stuff. Ornaments, lights, candy canes, and even some donuts for Bay.”
He said it so casually, like it wasn’t the most thoughtful, heart-splitting thing anyone had ever done for us. A lump started to rise in my throat as I muttered, “Thatch…”
“Yeah?”
“You didn’t have to do this.”
“I know.” His eyes locked on mine. “But I wanted to.”
I heard Baylor’s little footsteps as she came up behind me, and it was impossible not to smile when she gasped, “It’s a t-ee!”
“That’s right, kiddo.” Thatch crouched down in front of her as he asked, “You want to help your mom and me decorate it?”
Baylor’s eyes grew wide as she turned to Laken and asked, “Can I?”
“You sure can, honey.”
“Alrighty, then.” Thatch stood and started for the door. “I’ll go grab the rest.”
I still hadn’t moved. I was still completely spellbound by the man who’d walked into my life like a storm and brought warmth and happiness along with him. And standing there, barefoot and half-awake, I realized something simple and terrifying and beautiful all at once.
I loved him.
It was a realization that scared me, but that didn’t make it any less true. Now I just had to figure out what to do about it.
Hours later, the tree was up and covered in ornaments. Bits of tinsel were stuck to the floor, and there was a light dusting of glitter everywhere. I might never get rid of it all, but I didn’t care. The tree couldn’t have been more perfect.
Thatcher and I were sitting on the sofa, catching our breath while we admired our hard work. It leaned a little to the left, and there were too many ornaments bunched together in a couple of places. That was Baylor’s handiwork, but no matter what it looked like, it was ours.
Baylor plopped down between us. She had a half-eaten donut in her hand, and she looked up at our tree like she couldn’t believe it was really ours. I couldn’t believe it either. Thatch stretched his arm along the back of the sofa as he said, “I think she looks pretty good.”
“It looks wonderful,” I added.
“It needs a star,” Baylor announced.
“We can get one later.”
I brushed a bit of frosting from her cheek, and she popped up and ran over to her toybox. She grabbed her colors and paper and got to work. I used the quiet moment to lean over to Thatch and ask, “You want to stay for dinner? We’re having Baylor’s favorite. Nuggets and mac-and-cheese.”
“As tempting as that sounds, I have to pass.” He grimaced. “I’ve got a shift tonight at the Vault.”
Some people might’ve held judgment about him working at a strip club.
I didn’t. I understood better than anyone that a job is a job, and you have to find a way to make the best of it.
It wasn’t always easy at the hotel, but I managed.
And I figured the same held true for him.
At the same time, I hated that he couldn’t stay.
I tried not to let my disappointment show as I said, “That’s okay. Maybe some other time.”
“You working tomorrow?”
“Yes. I’m on from eleven to seven.”
“I’ll just miss ya. I’ve gotta be there at eight, but I could come early and maybe we could grab a bite to eat?”
“That would be great.”
“Good deal.” He held my gaze for a moment, then said, “I guess I'd better get going.”
He stood, and I followed him over to the door. “Thanks again for today. It meant a lot to Baylor, and it meant even more to me.”
“I’m glad you liked it.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips against mine, kissing me softly. “Lock up behind me.”
I nodded, then closed the door behind him. He hadn’t even made it to his truck, and I already missed him. The man had done a real number on me, and he’d done it without even trying. It all came so naturally to him, and it was one of the many things I adored about him.
I glanced over at the tree, and it was amazing how bright and cheery it made my apartment. It had me feeling all warm and fuzzy as I made my way into the kitchen and started dinner. We ate, watched a little TV, and went to bed early.
Baylor nestled up next to me, and after half an hour of restless fidgeting, she finally dozed off. The apartment fell quiet, but it was the good kind of quiet. The kind you get when your mind and heart finally accept the good in your life and somehow manage to keep the doubts at bay.
It wasn’t a feeling I got often, so I savored it a moment before drifting off to sleep.
I was deep in slumber when I woke to the sound of something crashing.
It was loud and sharp and terrifying. I sat up, and my heart was pounding as I quickly scanned the room.
It wasn’t until then that I noticed that Baylor wasn’t in the bed next to me.
“Baylor!” I called out, jumping out of bed.
Nothing.
Panic washed over me as I jolted out of bed and darted into the living room. I called her name again, and my voice crackled as I stumbled into the hallway. The apartment was dim with the only light coming from the Christmas tree, which was now on the floor.
Ornaments were shattered, the garland was tangled around one of the kitchen chairs that had tipped over, and next to it all was Baylor. And she wasn’t moving.
“Baylor!”
I dropped to my knees, and my hands were shaking as I reached for her. She was on her side, and her little pajama top was twisted around her waist. Her eyes were closed, and she wasn’t moving. I scooped her into my arms as I cried, “Oh, baby… Can you hear me? I need you to wake up.”
Her eyes fluttered, and then she blinked up at me, dazed and confused. Relief washed over me, but it was short-lived. As soon as she came out of the haze, she started crying. And not just any cry. This was loud and breathless. She was hurt.
Tears streamed down her face as she cried, “My arm…”
I looked down, and my stomach dropped when I saw the dip near her wrist. There was no doubt that it was broken. I just didn’t know how bad. “It’s okay. I’m right here.”
I leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. That’s when I saw it.
The star.
It was cut from notebook paper and colored yellow with a little glitter around the edges. She’d been working on it all afternoon. It was lying near the tree stand and was now bent and a little torn. She must’ve tried to put it on by herself.
I should have seen this coming. She had been staring at that tree all night, and she couldn’t stop talking about that star.
I should’ve known she would try to put it up herself.
I should’ve paid more attention. My poor, precious baby.
Her tiny face was all scrunched up and scared, and I did that.
I’m her mama. I was supposed to keep her safe, and I failed her.
I bit back a sob and kissed her again before grabbing my phone from the coffee table. I called Thatcher’s number, and tears blurred my vision the second he answered, “Hey, babe. What’s wrong?”
“It’s Baylor,” I stammered. “She’s hurt.”
“I’m on the way.” I heard a rustling sound, followed by footsteps and the door opening and closing. “What happened?”
“It looks like she was trying to put her star up on the tree and fell.” My voice quivered. “I think she might’ve broken her arm.”
“It hurts, Momma.”
“I know, sweetie. I’m so sorry.”
“You think she needs to go to the ER?”
“Yes, I think so. Could you take us?”
“Absolutely. I’ll be there in ten.”
“Thank you, Thatch.”
“Don’t thank me, babe. It’s what I’m here for. Now, get her ready, and we’ll take her as soon as I get there.”
“Okay. I’ll see you soon.”
With that, I hung up the phone and put it back on the table. I needed to put on some clothes, so I lifted her into my arms and carried her over to the sofa. “Stay right here, and I’ll be back in a flash.”
“Don’t go, Momma.”
“I’m just going to put on some jeans, sweetie. It’ll only take a second.”
I hated to leave her, even for a second, but I wanted to be dressed and ready when Thatch got there.
I darted into the bedroom and slipped on some jeans and a pullover, and I quickly pulled my hair up as I made my way back to Baylor.
She was still whimpering, but the second she saw me coming toward her, she turned up the waterworks.
I grabbed a blanket and wrapped her up in it, and I was standing at the door when Thatch pulled up. I darted outside, and he jumped out and opened the passenger door for me. Seconds later, we were in his truck and on the way to the hospital.
It was crazy, but one little paper star was about to change the course of our lives in ways I couldn’t begin to imagine.