Chapter 31
[Taxi]
For the next few nights, I stay at Stone’s place. Partially because his bed is bigger. Partially because I don’t want to go to Trudy’s home without her present.
Mostly because of Stone.
Being in a house that belongs to Trudy but is not the house I remember growing up in continues to feel strange.
Fortunately, we get the good news that Trudy can come home.
Trudy and Simon.
There’s been so much to consider lately.
Rearranging my schedule and figuring out how to get Gloria here, but the night before Trudy’s return home, Judd brings Simon back to the house and I meet him there.
It’s the first night he and I will be alone together, and I think we’re both a little nervous.
Judd offered to stay a while as a buffer. Stone offered as well, but I need to do this on my own. I need to be here for Simon as well as Trudy.
We build our own mini pizzas. We blow up balloons and fill the entryway with them, and we make a Welcome Home banner.
Judd and Genie gave us a basket full of tomatoes, cucumbers, and beans from their home garden. Stone dropped off a large bouquet of flowers.
The house looks almost festive, and the night ends with Simon and me watching a movie. His choice: Star Wars.
He’s such a good kid, but quiet, observant, hesitant, like Judd as a child. The similarities are almost eerie. But Simon isn’t the same with me as I’ve seen him with Judd. He doesn’t smile the way he does around Judd. Doesn’t have private jokes with me or laugh at mine.
He’s cautious around me, and I hate that for him and me.
The similarities between Simon and me are uncanny. Absentee parents. His father had custody of him and dropped Simon off at Trudy’s home two years ago. It was the responsible thing to do, but I’m certain Simon feels the rejection. Mother never present. Father willingly giving him up.
My heart aches for him, but I’ve been equally not available to him. Guilt hits me in a new way. If I want to consider Simon family, I need to step up for family.
While my sisters and I have consciously gone our own ways, we’ve kept in touch as best we can. It’s more difficult with Jolene as she’s the wildcat in our trio. Still, she’s my sister. I love her. I miss both of them.
After Simon is in bed, acting all responsible for himself by taking a shower and brushing his teeth, I lie on the lumpy couch again, staring at the living room ceiling. Missing Stone.
The way he’s held me. The way he’s been present for me from the second I returned to Sterling Falls. The way we came together each night.
We haven’t had sex. We’ve had more. More kisses. More touches. More exploration.
He’s so different. Awkwardly sweet and enthusiastically eager.
I can honestly say I adore him. Like truly adore him.
And Stone being here for me has shown me what he once asked of me:
Let me show you who I am.
He’s an amazing man. He loves his family. He works hard. He’s available for every single person who needs him. And I’m coming to realize how much I might need him.
Which is a dangerous thought that I drift off to sleep to.
However, hours later, a soft shout causes me to leap off the couch like that guy in ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas. Only I wasn’t expecting Santa Claus. The whimpering noise comes from down the hallway, and I race toward the bedrooms.
Simon’s door is partially open, and he is sitting upright, breathing heavily. Slowly, I open the door, reminded of when Jolene was younger and had nightmares. Ones that would scare the bejesus out of me, but she didn’t recall happening by morning.
“Hey, baby,” I whisper, worried Simon might still be sleeping and not aware he’s sitting up in bed. Cautiously, I approach the side of the bed. Simon looks up at me.
“You okay?” I ask.
He falls back on the mattress, blinking a few times before tears roll down his cheeks.
“Aw, sweetie.” I take a seat on the edge of his bed and brush back his floppy bangs. “Was it a bad dream?”
He only nods, swiping hastily at his cheeks, but the tears keep rolling.
“Want to tell me about it?” I keep my voice low, continuing to stroke back his hair. His bright blue eyes remain glassy, and he blinks a few times. When he’s near Judd, sometimes people mistake Simon for Judd’s son. I never miss the slight smile that brings to Judd’s lips.
“Grandma Trudy.” He gasps. “She died.” Another soft sob breaks from him, and I lean closer, curling my hand along the side of his face and cupping his chin.
“She’s not going to die, baby.” Not anytime soon with the stubborn attitude she’s been displaying during her final days in the hospital. She’s always been a feisty, respectfully outspoken woman, but she’s a little more ornery than I remember. I’m giving grace because . . . heart attack.
“I didn’t have anyone to take care of me.” His tears flow faster. His lower lip trembles.
I remember that fear. Trudy had been a lifeline for me, but I remember that niggling feeling of what’s next.
What would happen to me and my sisters if Trudy were gone?
What if she decided I wasn’t worth the bother because of what my mother did to her brother, and she turned me out?
I had worries for nothing because Trudy Wallace would never do such a thing.
She’d never give away a foster child without just cause, which meant she kept everyone who came to her until they were ready to go on their own.
He’s had a troubling life for someone so young, just like I’d had, so I understand his worries.
And I don’t want him to be concerned.
“Oh, baby, no. You have Judd and Genie. And me.” The ferocity of my plea hits me right in the sternum. I cannot prove to Simon I’m here for him if I’m not here for him. A child needs someone in their space. Someone reassuring him he’s important and he’s loved.
Simon cannot feel my love if I don’t show him I have it for him. If he doesn’t see I’m not a flight risk. I might work all over the country, but I don’t forget him. I care about him.
But if I’m not steady in his life, he can’t know that. Not yet. He’s had too much upheaval as it is.
Just like I had when I was near the same age. It took me years of living with Trudy before I became comfortable, and I still never felt like I fully belonged. As if I didn’t deserve to be with her.
“But you’re going to leave, too.” Simon hammers in my own fears, confirming my thoughts. He doesn’t trust me to be here.
“I’m not going anywhere.” Not anytime soon.
But how long can I really stay? I had commissions I had to put on hold. Work I couldn’t give up, because I’m still young and I need the money. I live a simple lifestyle, but I still have expenses.
“Grandma Trudy says you’re like the wind, always blowing around, never able to stay in one place for too long.”
Trudy’s assessment is accurate.
But what happens when the wind stops? Trudy might say it always starts up again. Never still. Never truly settled.
What if I want the wind to stop blowing, though? Do I need cement feet? Or do I just need to stop giving in to the gust? Do I need to build a wall, and paint it?
The irony isn’t lost on me. How I decorate permanent places, making my mark on them.
But I always leave. Leave my art behind when I rush away to the next project. The next adventure. In the end, I’m so much like my mother that the realization sends panicked recognition along my nerves.
Maybe for once I need to stay. Need to make a longer-lasting impression.
For Simon. For me.
I need to decorate this fragile wall between us so he sees I can be steady.
I hold my gaze on his young face, remembering how I felt at his age. The abandonment that led to fear that no one would ever really want me. No one would ask me to stay.
I could stay for Simon. And Trudy. And even Stone, because I wasn’t ready to let go of any of them.
“Grandma Trudy is rarely wrong. But sometimes, the wind can blow, and things stay in place. I’d like to be one of those things.”
Simon has no idea how badly I’d like to stick in one place.
“Like a flagpole?”
I blink, uncertain what he means.
“The wind blows and a flag flaps around, holding onto the pole for dear life.” He waves his hand like flimsy material battling the movement of the weather.
I chuckle softly. “I guess so. And I might need to hold on tight to someone to keep me in place.” Or someone needs to hold onto me.
Suddenly, Simon is sitting upright again, and his thin arms wrap around me, holding onto me.
At first, I don’t respond, so startled, so befuddled by the sudden embrace. Simon and I don’t have that kind of relationship. I adore Simon, but we don’t hug.
But this . . . him clinging to me, has me eventually responding with an equally tight hold on him. Breathing in his apple-scented shampoo, I smooth a hand down his thin back and embrace the moment.
“I can be your flagpole, Aunt Taxi.”
Dang it. This kid. The back of my eyes burn, and my vision blurs.
“When you flap, I’ll hold,” he says.
A tear slips free, dripping from the corner of my eye and rolling over my cheek.
“You hold tight, kiddo.” And I’ll hold you right back.
Pressing a kiss to the side of Simon’s head, I linger another second before pulling back.
“Do you think you can sleep now?” I ask, knowing he has school tomorrow.
Simon used to play sick to get out of going to school. Judd thought he might be bored because he’s so smart. This year, Simon is in some accelerated classes, and the difference makes him more eager to attend. He’s going for perfect attendance this year.
Simon nods and slowly lowers back to his pillow.
“I’ll stay right here another minute.” Or ten.
He rolls to his side, and I rub his back like Trudy used to do for me. And I once did for Jolene. He instantly closes his eyes.
Even after I’m certain Simon is sleeping, I sit on the edge of the bed, marveling at how people can come into your life at odd times, and loving them becomes as easy as if they’ve always been there.
And while my thoughts are full of Simon, I realize I also might mean Stone.
Flagpoles, allowing you to flap and flit with the wind, but holding tight during the roughest storms.