Chapter 13New Beginnings, New Friends – Vic
Chapter 13
New Beginnings, New Friends – Vic
T hough I’m nervous about reintroducing my daughters to the world—to new people, unfamiliar eyes, and potential harm I can’t control—I trust Kerry.
Because I trust her, I let myself be carefree and enjoy this moment.
Our first stop is the ice cream shop, a tiny but mighty piece of history nestled in the heart of downtown.
From the outside, it just looks like an old historic building with a painted mural of kids licking dripping cones.
Stepping inside is like stepping back in time.
The warm and sweet scent of freshly baked waffle cones greets us first.
Then, I notice an old jukebox humming in the corner, playing an old Sam Cooke record.
Then, I observe the walls alive with history, including a faded “Est. 1950” stamped beneath the shop’s name.
Photos line the shop; some are yellowed with time, and some are sharp and new.
They capture decades of families, children with messy faces, Black joy, history, and excellence at its finest.
There are snapshots of sit-ins, protesters gathered right outside these very doors, and even civil rights leaders like John Lewis and Robert Abernathy laughing over double scoops.
“This place is… special,” I say aloud, mostly to myself.
Kerry watches me, a soft smile playing at her lips.
“Yeah,” she says, eyes flickering over the pictures, soaking in the history like she’s done a hundred times before.
“It is. Coming to Greer from Beverly Mills as a kid was always a treat. There are places like this everywhere, still intact, still filled with beauty and pride. There’s no place like Greer. ”
Syd and Ari are just as amazed.
They press their little hands against the glass display and point at every colorful swirl of ice cream like they’re ready to order the entire menu.
Before they can get too carried away, Kerry grins then turns toward the counter to announce, “Mrs. Frazier, my so-called culinary genius of a boyfriend over here seems to believe he makes the best homemade ice cream in the world. And while I deeply respect his talent,” She pauses, throwing me a playful side-eye.
“I must respectfully disagree. So, would you do me the honor of serving him and his two adorable sous-chefs a scoop of the greatest ice cream known to man?”
A wave of laughter and aww’s ripple through the shop.
The ice cream shop owner, Mrs.
Frazier, grins.
“Oh, Kerry, I love when out-of-towners step in, all high and mighty, only to have their lives forever changed by a single scoop of my magic.”
I scoff, crossing my arms.
“No offense, Mrs. Frazier, but I highly doubt there’s a sundae on this planet that could shake my confidence.”
She just laughs as if I’m some teenager talking trash.
“Famous last words, Chef Grimes.”
I roll my eyes between chuckles.
There’s no way in hell anyone’s ice cream is better than mine.
Mrs.
Frazier scoops “the best ice cream in the world” into a few of her handmade waffle cones and hands them over.
The warm, buttery, and sweet scent alone should’ve been my first warning.
“Now, everyone, take a bite, and let’s see if Chef Grimes has any room left in that ego of his for a scoop of humility.”
I take a bite of the rich, velvety butter pecan goodness, and—sweet hell—it melts on my tongue like a dream.
The balance is perfect: nutty, creamy, damn near sinful.
“Umm, this can’t be ice cream. This is—”
I don’t even get to finish because Syd beats me to it, bouncing on her heels as she takes another lick of her scoop.
“The best ice cream in the world!” she declares, voice full of pure joy.
Then, from the corner of my eye, I catch Kerry’s giggle, her arms crossed as she gives me the smuggest damn look, her eyes practically daring me to admit it.
And then there’s the knowing smiles from the other customers, watching this showdown unfold .
I cave, chuckling at myself for being so easily bested.
“Alright, alright, I’m a man of my word, and honestly, this might just be…the best ice cream I’ve ever had.”
The shop bursts into cheers, and a couple of patrons even whip out their phones to capture the moment.
“You heard it here first! Chef Grimes has given his stamp of approval. Get down to Main Ice Cream, folks!”
While a few customers line up for photos, others shower Syd and Ari with affection, as Kerry remains by their side, her presence both protective and warm while she chats with the locals.
“Kerry, how could you and your charming gentleman keep these little angels from us?” I overhear someone say.
“You gotta bring them to the Summer Block Party.”
After snapping selfies and exchanging light-hearted conversation, I finally join Kerry and the girls at our table.
They’re all smiles, and while we talk and laugh, I find myself caught up in the easy flow of our faux family.
Kerry and I share a few meaningful glances, the kind that linger a bit too long.
Pretending feels almost too natural, stirring a wish that things could be real under different circumstances.
“Dad, what’s next? Ms. Kind mentioned you had a surprise for us?” Ari’s voice pulls me from my thoughts.
Kerry and I exchange a mischievous look.
“Well,” I draw out the moment, grinning at her impatience.
“Aww, come on! Tell us!” she pleads.
“Patience, short stack,” I tease.
“Let’s head to your surprise right now.”
We stroll through downtown Greer like any other family, enjoying the weather and exchanging friendly nods with locals.
Some stop us for pictures.
Some even comment on what a beautiful family we have.
“See, getting out isn’t so bad, is it?” Kerry nudges me playfully.
I exhale, half in resignation, half in amusement.
“I suppose not.” It helps that I’ve bumped into a few familiar faces, celebs, and famous folk I used to run the New York scene with back in the day.
“Greer’s gonna surpass Atlanta pretty soon. I’m starting to like the small-town to big city vibe.”
“So basically, you love it here, and we’re never gonna leave.” Ari chimes in.
We all laugh as we continue to the community park, which buzzes with activity—dog walkers, Frisbee games, flag football, and kids…
lots of kids .
Kerry and I watch the girls’ faces light up.
“Hold on, is today the day? The day we finally make friends?” Ari asks, bouncing on her toes in anticipation.
I nod, smiling.
“It might just be your lucky day.”
As we take in more of the park, Ari’s gaze locks onto the soccer field, her eyes darting between the kids weaving between cones, dribbling soccer balls with ease.
Then, on another field, she spots kids just like her.
Some have prosthetics, and others have different mobility aids, but all of them are running, laughing, playing, and having the time of their lives.
She stiffens, her little mind working overtime to piece it all together.
Then, all at once, realization dawns.
“Oh my gosh, Dad, are you gonna let me play soccer?” Her voice is a mix of disbelief and pure joy, and before I can even get a word out, she throws herself into my arms, squeezing the life out of me.
I chuckle, rubbing her back.
“Would I really bring you here just to tease you?”
She pulls back, eyes shimmering with excitement.
But before she can press me for more details, three people approach, and Syd’s the first to notice.
She gasps, pointing.
“Ms. Kind, your pretty friends from the video calls are here!”
Serena grins.
“Well, hello, Grimes family. It’s so nice to see you all in person for once.” Then her sharp eyes land on me, and her expression shifts to mock disapproval.
I smirk, playing it cool.
“I’ve been busy.”
“Yeah. Busy keeping our Kerry hostage,” Kiera scoffs, hands on her hips.
Then, she nudges the man beside her, adding, “Victor, this is my husband, my better half, my wounded warrior and war hero, Chris. Chris, this is the man who stole my Kerry away. I only get to see her on the weekends now.”
He rolls his eyes as he laughs, seemingly used to his wife’s antics.
He seems relaxed, wearing an ARMY t-shirt and performance shorts.
He extends a firm hand and says, “Nice to meet you, bro. My name is Chris, but everyone calls me Hawkins.”
I shake it, nodding in approval.
“Welcome to the family,” he says.
“Let me know if, no when, you ever get tired of getting ganged up on by the girls. We usually head to the bar or hang out in the man cave at my house while the ladies are off gossiping at their book club meetings or binge-watching whatever new show they’re obsessed with.”
I raise a brow.
“That actually sounds like a plan. My brother, Hud, and I have been looking to meet some people out here.”
Before I can get another word in, Kerry, who’s been watching the interaction with amusement, crosses her arms.
“Hold on, what? Mr. Antisocial actually wants to make friends? That’s certainly a new development.”
I roll my eyes, and then Hawkins transitions his attention to Ari.
“Now, word on the street is that there’s a soccer star in our midst.”
Ari hesitates, her excitement faltering just slightly.
Her fingers fidget with the hem of her shirt as she looks up at Hawkins, her brows drawing together.
“And no one’s ever made fun of you for being different?” she asks, her voice small but heavy with something deeper—doubt, fear, the memory of all the times she’s felt othered .
“The kids at my last school weren’t very nice.”
Hawkins’ expression softens, and he kneels so they’re at eye level, his voice steady but full of understanding.
“Oh, yeah. They did,” he admits.
“Plenty of times. Sometimes, my kids even rag on me—calling me a transformer!”
Ari giggles and then blinks up at him, surprised by his honesty.
“Really?”
“Really,” he confirms with a nod.
“You’re gonna meet my rascals in a few. Some people are light-hearted. Some people are cruel because they don’t understand. Others just like to pick on what makes someone special because they’re too scared to be different themselves.” He places a hand over his heart.
“But you wanna know something?”
Ari nods, biting her lip.
“I stopped caring what those people thought because I realized they weren’t my people.” His voice dips lower, more reassuring.
“You’re gonna meet so many people who are like you. And a whole lot who aren’t. But I promise you, the good ones? The ones worth knowing? They’re gonna see you for exactly who you are. And they’re gonna think you’re pretty amazing.”
Ari stares at him, absorbing every word.
Then, she looks down at his prosthetic, the same as hers, before meeting his eyes again.
“And you really don’t feel different?”
Hawkins smiles, lightly tapping his metal limb.
“Ari, I don’t feel different; I feel unstoppable. And I promise you, when you get out there and play, when you feel h ow strong you are, how fast you can move, you won’t feel different either. You’ll just feel like you.”
Her lips part, and her uncertainty slowly gives way to something brighter, something I haven’t seen in her in a very long time.
Confidence.
“And guess what else?” Hawkins grins.
“What?” She whispers.
“I’m gonna make sure you always feel comfortable and safe. That’s my job as your coach,” he tells her, tapping her shoulder lightly.
“So, what do you say? You ready to meet your teammates?”
Ari’s eyes widen in shock, then flicker to me, searching for my approval.
I nod.
“Go on, baby girl. Have fun.”
A rush of excitement replaces her nerves as she runs toward the field with Hawkins and Kiera.
Syd roots for her sister, but her excitement begins to fade.
Her hands slowly fall to her sides as she continues to glance at her shoulder pad.
Serena instantly notices, kneeling beside her and resting a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“You know, every athlete needs someone in their corner. Someone cheering them on, hyping them up.” She tilts her head toward the other side of the field.
“That’s the Greer Pipettes Dance Team? Their juniors are about your age. Do you wanna meet their coach?”
Syd hesitates, her fingers twitching like she wants to reach for my hand but stops herself.
Sensing her insecurity, I chime in, “It’d be so cool to watch you dance. If you want to join the team, you can, Syd. You whooped my butt last night, and now I can confidently say you’re the best dancer ever.”
Syd turns to me, the light returning to her face.
“Really, Daddy?”
I smile, resting a hand on her head, giving her the reassurance she’s looking for.
“Absolutely. Now, go ahead. Have some fun.”
That’s all the permission she needs.
She takes off, her excitement back in full force as she practically skips away with Serena.
One by one, my girls are stepping into the world, finding their place, carving out spaces where they shine, and not because of what sets them apart but because of what makes them extraordinary.
They’re passionate, talented, and undeniably strong.
They’re growing .
And maybe, it’s time I let myself do the same with new experiences, new people, and new chances at happiness.
Perhaps even a new relationship, even if it’s fake.
We find a perfect spot on the grass, where Kerry shakes out a blanket before laying it down.
The park hums with life—kids laughing, parents cheering, and adults playing games that clash with the kids’ soccer practices.
It’s a little bit of everything happening at once.
But right now, it’s just us.
Kerry lifts an eyebrow.
“So, are you ready to snuggle up with me?”
A chuckle escapes me as I slide my hands into my pockets.
“For the cameras, of course,” I reply, keeping my face straight, though the smirk tugging at my lips gives me away.
She rolls her eyes, but there’s amusement in them as she sinks onto the blanket.
I follow, sitting beside her.
It feels natural and easy.
This is different.
This is closer than we’ve ever been before.
So close, I catch the scent of lavender and honey lingering on her skin—sweet, familiar, and completely her.
So close, I can’t ignore the pull, the way my body reacts, the way my mind warns me and dares me at the same time.
Fake or not, sitting here with her like this?
It feels real.
Kerry leans in slightly, then lowers her voice to a whisper to ensure no one else hears.
“Do you think we should touch? Like hold hands, subtly enough so the girls don’t see us but enough to make other people notice?’” She pulls back quickly, second-guessing herself.
“Or maybe a selfie? Even more subtle?”
I smirk, watching the way she fidgets with the hem of the blanket, her nerves making her ramble.
“You’re nervous, aren’t you?” I ask, hoping to ease the tension.
She nods, exhaling a quiet laugh.
“Of course I am. There are so many people here who think I’m nothing without my ex, beneath my ex, or just some simple local with no real future. I wouldn’t mind a different narrative for once. A different type of gossip.”
I study her for a moment, seeing her for everything she’s not saying.
And without another thought, I reach for her hand and intertwine our fingers.
She tenses for a brief second, but then her hand relaxes as though she’s finally letting herself trust what both of us are feeling.
Letting herself trust me.
“You know, you should just let the town see you for who you are,” I say, my voice steady but warm, my thumb tracing over the back of her hand.
“The way I see you. ”
She tilts her head, raising a playful brow.
“Oh really? And who’s the woman you see, Vic? Your energetic, often stubborn nanny who questions everything you say and takes pleasure in stressing you out?”
I chuckle, shaking my head.
“Close, but no.” I turn to her with my voice more sincere and filled with truth.
“You’re my daughters’ incredible homeschool teacher. The woman who loves them like they’re her own. You shape their minds. You calm their fears. You celebrate their wins. You make them feel safe. You make them feel seen. You’ve made their lives better, Kerry,” I continue, my thumb brushing gently over the back of her hand.
“You know how good you are. And I see how amazing you are. So, let them talk.”
For a brief moment, we gaze into each other’s eyes, caught in what feels like a trance that could shift everything.
The noise around us fades—the shouts from the soccer field, the distant chatter, the occasional bark of a dog.
None of it matters.
Then, just as I’m about to break the silence with something, anything, she closes the distance between us completely and leans in until her body melts against mine.
And to my surprise, she rests her head on my shoulder as if it belongs there.
I feel her heartbeat against mine, the warmth of her cheek through my shirt, and the soft rise and fall of her breath.
My muscles tighten at first, but I relax and let her in completely.
The cameras click.
The people chatter.
And the rumors begin.
Maybe it’s for the blogs.
Maybe it’s for the gossip.
Maybe it’s for entertainment.
Or maybe…
it’s for us.