Chapter 20 Catfish
CATFISH
“Wow, this is fancy,” Willa says when I open the door to the old ranch house, allowing my sister, who is carrying a large platter of something hidden under foil, inside.
“Pony ride, Uncle River?” Maddie asks, throwing herself against my leg, her cheeks pink and cold from the short walk to the house.
I reach over her and shut the door. We’ve had the fire roaring all afternoon, and with the new heating system Atom has had fitted, it’s nice and toasty for Willa and the kids.
I tug Maddie’s hat off by the pompom and run my hand over the top of her head.
“Not today, sweetheart. The horses have all gone for their sleeps.” It’s a white lie, but Willa has always called an afternoon nap sleeps, and it’s the easiest way I can explain to her that they are tucked in the barn from the snow without then being talked into taking a walk over there to see them.
Her bottom lip slips out in a pout as I take the platter so Willa can drop all the bags.
“Don’t be pulling that face,” Willa says playfully to her daughter. “I told you on the ride over here that we were going to have some food and play some games with Uncle River and his friend, Wren.”
Mason puts his hand flat over his mouth as he laughs. His pudgy little fingers splayed across his face. “Did you get a girlfriend, Uncle River?”
I wince at the question, but I feel Wren’s hand on my lower back.
“Mason, remember what Mommy told you about Wren before we got here?” Willa says.
“I’m Uncle River’s friend.” Wren scratches me gently as they speak, to make sure I know they aren’t just dismissing what we’re slowly becoming to each other.
Maddie’s eyes go wide. “I like your hair.”
Wren smiles. “Thank you so much.”
“Can you braid my hair?”
Wren narrows their eyes and glances around Maddie’s hair as if they’re thinking really hard about the answer. “Your hair isn’t quite thick enough to do this braid yet, but I could try some other things.”
Maddie claps her hands. “I love other things.”
“Wren, this is Willa, my sister. Willa, this is Wren.”
Wren waves, and Willa follows their lead, saying, “It’s lovely to finally meet you. And now I understand why River hasn’t been home much.”
“She is his girlfriend,” Mason says in hushed tones.
“I’m sorry,” Willa says to Wren. “I tried to prepare them. Mason, remember—”
“Let me,” Wren says. They kneel down in front of Mason and take both his hands. “You wanna know something cool?”
Mason’s eyes go wide. “Is it a secret?”
“I’m a special friend of Uncle River’s, but I’m not a girl or a boy. I’m just me.”
Mason’s brow furrows for a second. “So, like a superhero?”
Wren grins. “Yes. Exactly like a superhero.”
“Can you fly?” Maddie asks, leaning on Wren’s shoulder.
“Only if I’ve had two cups of Uncle River’s coffee.”
Both kids giggle at that.
“That’s a cherry pie,” Willa says. “We should put it in the fridge if we’re not eating for a while, and in the oven if we are.”
“I wanna hold Wren’s hand,” Maddie shouts.
“But I do,” Mason whines.
I grab Wren’s hand, happy to show Wren I don’t care if my family knows we mean something to each other. I hadn’t realized just how much it mattered to me that Willa likes Wren.
“Too bad. I got there first,” I say, and I drag Wren to the kitchen as the children laugh, giving us chase.
Wren’s idea to build a pizza-making station was a great one, in theory, but chaos, in reality.
Mason is too heavy handed with everything.
His pizza looks like a mountain. Fuck knows how we’re gonna cook it through.
Maddie, on the other hand, is taking an age to create a flower garden made out of pepperoni petals and green pepper stems.
And flour dust still hovers in the air like a snow globe. Wren’s hoodie sleeves are cuffed and dusted in white as Maddie tells them in toddler gibberish all about the hamster’s jailbreak attempt, and how Willa said a bad word trying to catch it.
But Wren is navigating everyone through pizza construction like a champ as the kids bombard them with questions.
Do you like ponies?
Why is butter yellow?
Does Wren know that Jeremy is allergic to kittens?
“Jeremy?” I ask Willa quietly.
Willa adds more cheese to her pizza. “New kid in their class. Moved from Wyoming because his mom has family here.”
Wren catches my eye and smiles at me. And fuck, I feel it all the way to my boots. I try telling myself that this isn’t a date. How can it be with my sister and the twins here? But it sure feels like one.
Even if it came with additional logistics and security drills.
It’s the closest to normal we can get right now. I look outside, and the sky is doing that big Western thing it does, where it looks like it could swallow every thought that has ever chewed up your brain.
I lean against the large island, watching Wren’s hands. They’re sure and coaxing.
“I like Wren,” Willa says quietly.
“Yeah. Me too.”
“Watch your heart, brother. Someone like Wren could easily break it without trying.”
I glance at my sister. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Just that they arrived at the club to be looked after. There’s nothing to say they won’t go back to where they were before whatever shit that went down happened.”
It brushes painfully up against thoughts I already had. That Wren might pick up and go back to New Jersey when this is all over. Assuming that’s where they were in the beginning. Maybe they travelled to see Calista and Vex.
Would I consider leaving Colorado for them?
A shiver passes through me. It’s way too early to be considering questions like that. And the very thought of leaving these two precious kids is like a knife through my heart. While I know Butcher would keep an eye on Willa for me, it’s not like being there for them.
“I think Wren’s lovely,” Willa says. “And I think you look happier than I’ve seen you in years around them. So…I guess I want you to be happy, and I don’t want you to get hurt.”
I shrug, attempting to shake off the feelings that are emerging as a result of her words. “I think the meaning of life is understanding you can’t have one without the other.”
After dinner, involving way too much pizza and a lecture about soda limits, games night starts. Well, games afternoon. We play musical statues, where we have to dance, and every time Willa stops the music, we have to freeze.
Wren is an adorably terrible dancer.
Mason is a cheat.
Maddie just keeps dancing because she wants to.
“Line dancing is cheating,” Wren says eventually.
“And why is that?” I ask, taking their hand and spinning them beneath it.
“Because it’s distracting how good your ass looks in those jeans.”
I chuckle and pull them close, my lips brushing over theirs. “We could practice naked, if it helps.”
The sound of mock vomiting comes from Willa.
“Eww,” Mason says. “You kissed Wren.”
“One day, you’ll probably enjoy kissing people too,” I say as Wren blushes. They playfully shove me away, like they forgot where they were.
And I kinda like that they did.
“Uncle River, you come home soon?” Maddie asks, stepping between Wren and me.
She offers her arms up to me, and I reach down to pick her up. “Soon, baby girl. Why? You miss me?”
She rests her head against my shoulder. “Mason hit me with a snowball.”
I glance at Mason. “You got your sister?”
He grins unrepentantly and claps his hands with glee. “It went in her coat.”
I bite back a grin, then turn back to Maddie. “Mason is always slow zipping up his coat. If you get outside first and make a quick snowball, you could get him before he has a chance to get ready.”
Maddie’s face lights up. “Okay. I do that.”
Wren rolls their eyes like I’m a child, but the smile on their face says they love—like—me anyway.”
“You getting tired, Maddie?” Willa asks as my niece buries herself into the crook of my neck. I feel her soft breaths against my skin as I rub circles on her back.
She slowly wrap bits of my hair around her fingers. “No,” she says, sleepily.
Willa stands. “We should probably get going. These kiddos have daycare tomorrow.”
“Nooooo,” Mason says, diving for Wren’s hand and clinging to it.
And for a second, I’m holding Maddie, Wren has pulled Mason to their side and is stroking the toddler’s hair, and I can see an unexpected life unfolding in front of me.
“Can I sleep over, Uncle River?” Maddie asks.
I wish I could say yes, like I do so often when I’m home in my studio above the garage. But there’s too much going on. And there’s an additional threat here that I don’t want the kids to be a part of.
“Not tonight, kiddo, but we will as soon as we can.”
We herd the kids into their thick coats and mittens and hats. And I carry them out, one in each arm, before dropping them into their seats in the back of the car. Once they are secured and buckled in, I kiss both their foreheads.
When I stand, I see Wren in the doorway, ready to wave them all goodbye.
Willa hugs me. “You’ll stay safe, right?”
“Always,” I reply.
But Willa doesn’t step away. Instead, she looks up at me. “You look…soft.”
I snort. “For fuck’s sake, Willa.”
She slaps my arm. “Don’t be a donkey. You know what I mean. You look really happy.” She nudges me with her shoulder. “You know you deserve that too, right?”
“Get in the car,” I say, playfully pushing her in the direction of the driver’s door.
“I’m serious,” she says. “You’ve done a lot for me and Mom. Always looking after us, making sure the two of us want for nothing and feel safe. It’s okay to let someone be that person for you. To spend as much time on your own happiness as you do on ours.”
We hug each other, and I kiss her temple. “Thanks, Will.”
I open the door for her and close it once she’s settled, then I wave to them all as Willa drives them off the property. The cold wind bites through my hood, but I don’t step inside until I can no longer see their headlights.
I can’t imagine a world where either of those kids looks back and I’m not there.
When they are finally out of sight, I step up to the front door.
“Thank you.” Wren touches my cheek. “I really needed that.”
I brush a bit of flour off their hoodie. “I’m glad.”
“I don’t usually do well with small talk and things.”
Smiling, I take Wren’s hand and lead them into the entrance hall so I can close the door to keep the cold air out. “You did great. The make-your-own-pizza was a genius idea. And you listened to them. That’s not small.”
Wren turns to face me, and the look I find there is enough to kill me. “I felt safe. With all of them.”
I swallow, because there’s a lump in my throat I can’t shift. “Good.”
Wren wraps their arms around my neck and kisses me. “You’re a natural with them.”
I hum thoughtfully. “Hypothetically, do you want kids, Wren?”
“Hypothetically, I do. The how is where I struggle. Pregnancy is like an open door for misgendering and more medical mistrust. And I don’t know where I’ll be on this journey by then, if it’ll be viable to adopt. But, purely hypothetically, I’d like kids. Why?”
I squeeze their hand. “Because I think I just realized that not wanting them would be a deal breaker for me.”
“Would they have to be yours biologically?”
I think about the life Wren has had. The loss of their mother at thirteen. A father who didn’t care, much like my own. “I’d be happy to have biological kids. But I think I’d be equally happy giving a home to kids who need a better start in life than the one they’ve been dealt.”
And the smile Wren gives me in return suggests they would too.