25. Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Five
Big Dan
I’m sitting at my desk when Jesse comes up behind and wraps her arms around my neck. “What’s going on, Big Guy?”
“Nothing,” I tell her.
“Come on. I know something’s wrong,” she says, lowering herself into the chair that sits beside my desk.
I lean back, sighing. “I feel like everything is falling apart.”
She doesn’t argue.
I shake my head. “For the first time in a long time, I don’t know what to do.”
“Nothing you can do, Big Guy. You just got to be there for your family. Be their anchor in the storm.”
“The boys … Cole, is being difficult.”
Jesse taps her lighter on her knee. “We all knew it would happen eventually. They are as close as any two people I’ve ever known.”
I look over the pictures I have lined up on my desk of my family. “I’ve got enough going on right now. I need them at the top of their game.”
“They’re not there, Dan.”
“I know.”
“Everything’s going to be okay. God answers in ways you cannot see,” Jesse says.
Did I hear that right?
“God?” I ask.
“The light, God, the universe, whatever the fuck you want to call it. I’m just saying there is something more than us and it somehow carries us through … that and a good switchblade.”
I chuckle. This girl … we’ve been through some shit together. “You’re not getting soft on me now, are you?”
“Fuck no.”
I didn’t think so, but I’ll never get tired of teasing her.
“I saw Cole heading up to your room at the warehouse tonight,” she says, reminding me of my dilemma.
The revelation makes me sigh. He’d been staying at the cabin since he and Carver got back. I was hoping he’d be there when Carson got home.
I lean forward and place my head in my hands. “How the fuck am I just realizing I can’t control a damn thing,” I mumble into my palms, trying to keep my shit together.
Dirk knocks on the side of my door before entering.
“We’ve got to go,” he tells her.
“Something I can help with?” I ask.
“Naw, we got this.” He nods his head, and she stands.
I don’t even want to know. I’ve got enough shit to deal with.
When I get outside to head home, Lily is waiting by the bike, staring up at the moon.
“What are you doing here? You haven’t been at the store this whole time, have you? You closed hours ago.” I run my hands down her arms, not stopping until her hands are firmly in mine.
“I didn’t want to go home.”
“Baby, you should have come inside. I would have canceled with my client and gone with you.”
“No. I had things to do.”
“Were you working on a piece of furniture?”
“Yeah, yeah I was.” She pulls away from me and heads toward her car.
It’s not like her to lie to me.
Carson is calling. He must have made it to Chicago.
“Hey, Dad, just wanted to let you know we’ll be getting on the last leg of our journey here in a bit. Mom wanted me to call her and let her know but she didn’t answer. I didn’t want her to worry though, so I thought I’d call you.”
I look at her license plate … LUCKYX4.
Her babies are her life, and I know she feels like she is failing them right now.
I follow her home and immediately go upstairs to run her a bath.
She hovers in the doorway. “I should go pick up Khloe.”
“Kelsie is keeping her tonight. You need to rest.”
“You don’t have to stay with me, you know?”
“I ought to whoop your ass for that,” I tell her.
She huffs and lowers herself onto the toilet lid, watching the water fill.
“Go on, get in. I’m going to go downstairs and make supper while you relax.”
“I’m scared, Dan.”
I kneel beside her, taking her face in my hands. “You have me, the kids, and the club. There is no reason to be afraid, but I understand that you are. I’m going to help you work through it.”
“What if …”
I stop her with a kiss.
“We don’t do what ifs around here; we do what is. And right now, everything is A-OK.”
She smiles at me sadly. “It is. It’s more than okay. All of my babies will be home soon.”
I can’t bring myself to tell her Cole is staying over at the warehouse, so I don’t.
“Carson made it to Chicago. He said he tried calling you.”
“He did?” She pulls her phone out of her purse and there it is … two missed calls from Carson.
I take it from her hands when her eyes begin to well with tears.
“Baby, baby, baby, there’s going to be a learning curve to this, but we’ll figure it out as we go. It was nice Carson checked in with us but it wasn’t necessary.”
“I can’t even take care of my kids.” She cries, not listening to a word I’ve said.
I pull her into my arms, holding her tight.
She has to grieve what she’s losing before she can move forward.
Her sobs wake something inside me.
Something I haven’t felt in a long, long time.
I haven’t felt this helpless since my mom was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s.
I haven’t missed it.