Chapter 11
REECE
The scream woke me and I leapt out of bed, practically tripping over my feet. Gone were the days where I’d sleep naked or even in boxer shorts. Now I wore an old T-shirt and long pajama bottoms. We were going on eight weeks of Bella being under my roof, and we’re still finding a rhythm.
But this was the first time I had heard my daughter scream.
I practically slammed through the door as I went into her room, the nightlight radiating a small space, and went to the side of Bella’s bed.
She was tangled in her sheets, her hands in tight fists in front of her, and she continued to twist within the blankets, alternating between screaming and crying.
I sat at the edge of the bed and reached for her shoulders.
“Bella. Wake up. Bella baby. You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re home.”
I kept saying random words out loud, hoping they would pull her out of her nightmare, and that they were even the right words to say.
Home. My daughter was home.
And this is where she would be until she decided she was old enough to move out and start her own life. But that could be years from now, and I couldn’t even dare think about those moments in time.
Bella shot up, her forehead connecting with my chin. Stars danced behind my eyelids, and I held back a curse. Bella didn’t seem to notice though. She stared at me with wide eyes, tear-stained cheeks, and shook in my arms.
“Bella. You’re awake. What’s wrong.”
“I miss my mom.” Then she burst into tears. My arms went around her automatically, but I had no words to say.
Of course she missed her mom. She hadn’t spoken a damn thing about her since she’d moved in, though I had tried.
My own mother had thought maybe therapy would help, but finding a routine between the two of us had been hard enough.
And while I knew it had to happen eventually, I hadn’t wanted to start things off on the wrong foot.
Maybe I had made a mistake. Then again, I was damn good at making mistakes these days.
“Do you want to talk about it?” I asked, my voice gruff.
Was that the right thing to say? Should I let her cry it out?
I wasn’t good at this. How was anybody supposed to be good at this?
What did you do when the daughter that you hadn’t known existed until two months ago starts crying in your arms because she misses her mom.
The woman that I hadn’t seen in years, who had lied to me and everyone else about Bella’s existence.
I couldn’t hate Cassie. I couldn’t even judge her. Not anymore. Not when our daughter cried in my arms.
“No. I don’t.” She buried herself into my chest, and stilled, not sure what to do.
Bella and I were still figuring things out.
It didn’t even feel like we were friends at this point, let alone father and daughter.
She told me about her day when I forced it out of her.
I knew her friends’ names—Wyatt and Natalie—because I pried.
I knew she liked to draw and paint, but she didn’t bring anything home from camp.
Although the Montgomerys said that there would be an art show at the end of the summer where I would be able to see her work. I didn’t feel like enough though.
I didn’t know anything about my kid, but I was trying to learn.
I knew she liked lactose-free milk over regular milk even though she wasn’t lactose intolerant.
I knew she loved all forms of sourdough, and Brooklyn was well on her way to teaching her how to make a starter.
I knew my daughter wanted to learn how to plant flowers, and it was Brooklyn who was teaching her.
I knew my daughter liked English and science but not history or math. I had found that funny because it was usually one or the other not a mix of creative and analytical. Then again, I was a decent mix.
I was learning bits about my daughter, but sometimes it didn’t feel real.
I didn’t know when she would call me Dad or if she ever would.
And I didn’t know what the hell to do about the fact that I was falling in love with Brooklyn Montgomery, and when I fucked that up, it would hurt Bella.
Because somehow the relationship I had formed with my daughter had been irrevocably tied to Brooklyn.
But all of that didn’t matter in this moment, not when my daughter was crying in my arms.
“I’m here if you need me,” I said softly, confused, and feeling helpless.
My mother told me being a parent meant feeling helpless ninety percent of the time, but I didn’t believe her. Maybe I should have.
“Why is she gone?” she asked softly. I swallowed hard. I was afraid to move and startle her. If I did, then maybe she would stop talking to me.
“I’m not good at figuring out why life is the way it is or why sometimes fate is an actual thing.
I will tell you it’s not fair. And I’m sorry.
Your mom should still be here. You should still have her in your life.
But if you think about it, part of her is still here.
She is inside you. You don’t have to not talk about it.
I’d love to hear more about your mom. What she means to you. ”
“If she was alive then I wouldn’t know you. Wouldn’t that make you mad?”
My arms tightened around her for a moment, and I swallowed hard.
“I would like to think that one day you and I would have found a way to each other. I love having you in my life, Bella. But I wish your mom didn’t have to die for that to happen.”
“She was really nice. She baked cookies, but sometimes they were burned. Not like Brooklyn’s. And she liked to sing. I loved her singing.”
I rubbed my cheek over the top of her head. “I remember. She used to sing karaoke. And forced me to go out.”
Bella pulled back, her eyes wide. They were still glistening with tears, but not as puffy. “Really? You sang?”
I nodded, though I cringed. “Your mother could sing. I’m decent at it, but not as good as her. She was the bright light, I usually just growled the bass level.”
“That sounds fun though. I wish I could see.”
I frowned, thought back to any posts we might’ve made. “My brother might have a video on his phone somewhere. He never deletes anything. I’ll check, okay?”
She nodded, her eyes sad. “Okay. Thank you, Reece.”
It was like another kick to the stomach, the fact that she called me Reece. But she wasn’t so angry now. Not so sullen. Maybe she still resented being forced to live here, with things that weren’t her own, but we were trying.
I got her a glass of water and tucked her back in. Thankfully she went right back to sleep.
It wasn’t until I got into bed myself that I realized she hadn’t told me what her dream had been about. Only her mother.
And the fact that she was gone.
“That’s rough, buddy,” Gage said as we looked over yet another set of IKEA instructions.
“Why do you sound like Zuko?” I asked.
“Because he’s the best villain to hero arc out there? And the best animated character ever.” Gage grinned, and I rolled my eyes.
I had known Gage for a while now. Of all our friends that had a connection to the Montgomerys, Gage was actually closer in age to me than the others. We had seen enough shit out there that things got a little hairy.
And of course because it was Denver, the small town that it was—insert sarcasm here—Gage had a connection to the Montgomerys as well. His younger brother Patrick was madly in love with and dating Riley.
I didn’t know Riley well, but she worked one-on-one with my daughter at the art gallery that she ran, and I knew she was one of Brooklyn’s closest cousins.
“Seriously though, she okay?” Gage asked.
That was the thing with Gage. He gave me shit just like I did the same for him, but he was a good man, and really cared about his friends.
He took care of everybody around him, to his own detriment sometimes, and I was grateful I had someone else to talk about this with.
Sure, I had Brooklyn and my family, but my family always thought I was a good guy—even when they were rousing me—and I couldn’t talk about everything with Brooklyn, not when my feelings towards her were complicated enough.
“I think she’s okay. I don’t know. She doesn’t really fucking talk to me.” I kept my voice down since Bella was in her room sketching. She told me she would come back out soon to help with the bookshelves, but I wasn’t going to pressure her. She’d had a rough night after all.
“My brother has the name of a decent family and child therapist. So I figured I’d see if I can get on their books. Or if they have a recommendation.”
Gage nodded solemnly. “It’s a good idea. I mean, I have no idea how to handle kids at all, and I know this is completely new for you. But her having someone to talk to outside of this would be good.”
“She has Brooklyn at least,” I blurted.
Gage raised a brow. “Oh, really. How often is she here?”
I flipped him off. “Stop.”
“No, really. I overheard Riley telling Patrick that Brooklyn was hanging out with you more, but I didn’t hear the details. You and the Montgomery then?”
“Stop eavesdropping on your little brother and his girlfriend.”
“It’s not eavesdropping when they don’t fucking care that I’m in the room.” Gage rolled his eyes. “We were over at the parents’ house, and I can’t seem to get away from the lovebirds.”
“Something wrong there?” I asked, not really that curious about the younger couple. I liked Gage, and he was a good man, but Patrick annoyed the fuck out of me. He was like one of those frat guys who smiled a little too brightly and always got what he wanted.
Sure, the kid worked hard, sometimes, but he went through life pretty easily. Though from what I could tell he treated Riley right, so that was fine with me.
“Don’t get on a new subject. You and Brooklyn?”
I looked down the hallway, grateful that Bella’s door was still closed. “I think we’re seeing each other.”
“You think?”
“I don’t fucking know. We don’t go out, because my nights are now spent with Bella, but Brooklyn comes over here, and we went to that gala together.”