28. Viggo
VIGGO
AHalloween frenzy had taken over the town.
The store windows on Main Street were decorated with paper ghosts, spider webs, and smiling skeletons.
Dexter’s Donuts topped them all. He’d made a Frankenstein from a tower of green frosted donuts that sort of resembled a miniature Michelin Man and filled a cauldron with jelly donuts, oozing strawberry jam.
“It’s a little gory,” I commented, chomping on a fritter.
Janey cackled, adjusting her witch’s hat as she peered at the display. “It’s supposed to be gory, my pretty!”
“Mwahaha!” Dexter bared his teeth, showing off impressive incisors. “You like?”
“And who are you supposed to be?” I asked dryly.
“I am Dracula,” he said in a corny Transylvanian accent. “Can’t you tell? The teeth, the fashionable hair, and of course…the cape.”
I knew I shouldn’t touch him in public, but I couldn’t resist tugging at the pointed collar that fanned his handsome face.
“Nice touch.”
He scowled, and even that was adorable. “Don’t you need to trot home and get your costume on?”
“I do not trot, and I don’t do costumes,” I scoffed.
Dex pierced his lip with a faux incisor and flashed a naughty just-for-me mischievous grin. “Lumberjacks are all the rage this season anyway. Just carry an ax and maybe lose the jacket so everyone can see that plaid shirt.”
I just stared…and stared until Dex burst into laughter that was very un-Dracula-like.
Janey tsked as she rounded the counter, thrusting a cup of coffee into my hand. “Oh, my God, you two. Get a freaking room already.”
“We—we’re not—”
“What are you talking ab—”
“Save it,” Janey intercepted. “If you’re not…you know…you should be. You’re so cute together.”
“Cute? I am not cute.” I glowered, but she’d returned to her post at the register to help Meg and Dallas with the queue full of Halloween enthusiasts picking up donuts and coffee on their way to work and school.
Dex chuckled. “Yeah, you are.”
I glanced left and right to be sure I wouldn’t be overheard. “You’re not concerned that she thinks we should get a room?”
“Nope. In fact, I wish we could get a room right now,” he purred lasciviously. “I wish we could—”
His gaze snagged on the front door as the bell chimed to announce a new customer. I assumed it was someone with a particularly clever Halloween getup until his face went pale.
“What is it?”
Not what. Who.
Margaret Sandringham entered the shop like a modern-day Cruella de Vil.
Except she wasn’t wearing a costume. Perhaps that was uncharitable, but with the dark sunglasses, red lipstick, and hair pulled severely from her face accentuating her high cheekbones, Dexter’s mother looked cartoonishly out of place amongst the revelers dressed as pumpkins, pirates, and princesses.
“Mom. What are you doing here?”
“I told you I wanted to visit, see where you live and…work.” She slipped her sunglasses off and arched a perfect brow, sweeping a critical eye around the bustling store. “Is that all right?”
“Yes,” he replied after a moment’s hesitation, removing his Dracula teeth and adding, “Of course. I’m just…surprised. It’s Halloween, Mom.”
“Is it? Well, don’t fuss. I’m not staying long. I was hoping to catch you for an hour. Maxwell came with me…thank goodness. The roads are rather primitive here, aren’t they?”
“I—who’s Maxwell?” he asked.
“My chauffeur.” Margaret pivoted, disarming me with a sharklike smile, an indication that she definitely remembered our previous encounter in Michigan. “Hello, again. Viggo, am I correct?”
I offered my hand. “Welcome to Wood Hollow.”
“Thank you.” Her gold bangles jingled noisily as she fitted her palm to mine. “It’s good to see you.”
“Is it?”
Margaret’s lips twisted with humor. “Honestly, I’m not sure.”
“Mom—”
“I want to talk to you, Dexter. Alone. I’m sure you understand, Viggo.” She nodded blandly, her gaze fixed on her son.
Dexter exhaled, pushing his cape over his right shoulder. “You should have called.”
“I did. I spoke to a lovely young man named Houston who told me you’d be in your store most of the day.”
“You mean Dallas?”
“What difference does it make? I’m here now,” she replied impatiently. The “I’m not going anywhere until I have what I want” was unspoken but very much implied.
“Right. Okay, well…this is my shop, Dexter’s Donuts.
” He spread his arm, gesturing to the gleaming marble countertops, the neatly arranged display cases filled with an assortment of treats, and the line of loyal patrons.
“If you’d like, I can show you the kitchen and um…
my SUV is out front. I’ll take you to my house, too.
It’s close to the lake and there’s a nice view and… ”
“Wonderful. I’ll follow you.”
Dex motioned for her to move ahead of him, turning to me at the last second with a WTF expression. I shrugged and pulled my cell out, indicating that he should text or call if he needed me to run interference. He blinked—message received.
I finished my coffee and tossed it into the bin next to the counter where Janey was chatting with Cooper’s aunt and uncle, a couple of proud hippies who’d set aside their usual tie-dyed and peace sweatshirts to dress for the holiday.
“We’re Sonny and Cher,” Aunt Rhona said in greeting. “Where’s your costume?”
“Now, Rhona. Not everyone embraces ghoulish holidays,” her husband Harry reminded her, seemingly unbothered by the shaggy clump of a wig atop his head or his vertically striped bell-bottoms. The man looked positively ridiculous.
I nodded, unsure what to add. “Well…have fun.”
“Oh, we will.” Rhona winked, hooking her arm through her husband’s and dragging him to the exit.
“They’re a hoot.” Janey chuckled lightly, then tilted her chin meaningfully. “Who’s that with Dex?”
“His mother.”
Janey gasped. “His mother! Oh, wow. He didn’t mention that she was coming today.”
“She surprised him.”
“That’s so nice! Or…not? Your face is doing something weird, and I can’t be sure.”
“It’ll be fine.”
Janey quirked a brow and nodded along. “Hey, while you’re here, I wanted to talk to you about the baby shower we’re planning for Dex. I think it would be a nice touch to have his surrogate join us.”
“Freya?”
“Yeah, would you mind asking her? If it’s not okay for her to travel, no worries. Safety first. But if she can come…ohhhhh, we’ll give her the royal treatment!”
“Why?”
Janey put her hands on her hips, exposing her tattooed arms under the generous folds of her witch’s costume.
“What do you mean, why? Because she’s carrying Dexter’s little miracle, and the whole town wants to welcome that baby.
Not that everyone is invited, mind you. Fire hazards and all that.
And why are you looking at me like this is the first you’re hearing about it? ”
“Two weeks from today at Cooper and Silas’s house. I know.”
She beamed. “Good. So you’ll ask Freya?”
“Ja. No problem.”
“Thanks.” Janey hooked her thumb toward the kitchen. “Everything okay there? He didn’t exactly seem excited to see her.”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe I should make sure he’s all right.”
“No, let them be,” I advised. “She’s come a long way.”
Janey gave a dubious shrug but didn’t argue. She probably thought I had some sage insight, and that wasn’t the case. The truth was…family confused me. I lived thousands of miles from my own for a reason. It had nothing to do with a lack of love or piety and everything to do with sanity.
Dex would establish boundaries with his child’s best interest at heart. It was what a good parent did. I wondered where my boundary would be.
I wasn’t family, I was a new friend—a temporary lover, an uncle of sorts on a mother’s side, though she had no rights. This time next year, the child might not recognize me at first glance. They might cry at the sight of the scary man with a bushy beard. I wouldn’t blame them.
Truthfully, I was more worried about how it would feel to not have a place in Dexter’s life.
We both knew that space had to be cleared and priorities set.
It was necessary, inevitable. And maybe that was why I couldn’t fathom that his mother would fuck up a chance for a front-row seat in her son’s life.
“I wish I could have ten children, Viggo. Won’t that be horrible and delightful? I don’t want a husband, though. Just kids. And cats. One per child. You’ll have to buy a bigger house, because we’re all going to come live with you. I don’t want you to be alone.”
Anni followed me as I crossed Main Street and headed for home. Leaves crunched underfoot and the woodpeckers responsible for hollowing out trees in the area pecked away noisily. My breath came in plumes, and my heart beat too fast.
Twenty-one years on Earth hadn’t been enough to harden Anni’s heart or limit her imagination.
Forever hadn’t been a concept she’d attributed to love.
She would have been overwhelmed by motherhood.
On maudlin days, I found myself thinking how different life would have been if she was here… and if her baby had survived.
The “what-ifs” still haunted me. What could have been, should have been, and would never be. I’d become a sentry guarding old memories, clutching them like prayer cards—so focused on my grief and my solitude that I’d successfully warded off anything that wasn’t basic sex.
And now look what I’d done.
I was supposed to keep an eye on the father of Freya’s baby, as if I could protect them from the unknown. It was misguided and probably strange, but grief isn’t always reasonable. Nine months later, I was in over my head.
The cycle had started again. Different players, different roles, but this time the alternate ending would be a happier one for the people I cared about.
That’s good enough, I told myself. Good enough.