12. Vince
12
VINCE
T he old homestead is gorgeous. A bit overgrown and rundown in places, but the house has good bones, the orchards are lush, the huge gardens are a barely tamed wilderness of heavenly scents and colors, and the very feel of the place warms my heart and my bones.
“It’s beautiful, Freddie.”
She beams at me. “I know. I pinch myself every morning, to believe how lucky I am.”
I follow her to the slanting wooden gate, and she uses what looks like all her strength to heave it upward while she opens it. The upper gudgeon pin is loose, so the opposite bottom corner of the gate digs into the ground if it’s not lifted.
“Close it after yourself,” Fred says, walking on ahead. “There are chickens everywhere, and it’s no joke when they try to cross the road. There was a mass murder by stock-truck last spring, and Morrissey cried every night for a month.”
“Got it.” I lift the gate off its gudgeons, grip the top one, and screw it more deeply into its post before setting the gate back on its hinge pins, to make sure it opens and closes smoothly before I shut it. I turn back up the path and see Fred watching me with a strange look on her face.
“Did you just screw that hinge into a solid-wood post with your bare hands?” Her tone suggests it wasn’t the right thing to do.
“Was that not okay?” I look at my hands. They’re a bit pinker, but I didn’t do any damage. Did she want me to wear gloves to protect my skin? Or is this not about looking after myself the way I’d look after her? Is it something else? Did I overstep? “Should I have asked first?”
Her eyebrows knit together. “Yes. But also” — she looks at me sideways — “what’s it like, being that ridiculously strong?”
My cheeks warm, and I shrug. “I haven’t really known any different. I like to use my strength to be helpful when I can, but I don’t really get to use it much. Unless I’m doing something that warrants muscles, I spend most of the time tempering it. It’s kind of a fun challenge — it keeps me busy and out of trouble. Mostly.” I sweep my gaze over her at a leisurely pace, loving the way she looks in her home environment.
“Huh.” She nods and waves for me to follow her. “It’s good that you like that kind of challenge.”
I take a few longer strides to catch up, and then match her shorter ones. “Why?”
“Because you can’t do anything too strongman-like in front of my mom. It’ll freak her out.”
She doesn’t say more, so I ask again. “Why? ”
She turns to face me and sighs. “My dad used his strength the wrong way, and it left her wary of men. She won’t be excited you’re here.”
I stop where I am. “He hurt her?”
“He did,” she says. “Too many times. And he evaded justice, which is why we’ve had to continually start over in new places. He couldn’t let her go, but moving here, we’ve made it as close to impossible as we can for him to find us. It’s a big country, so hopefully, he never will again, but that hasn’t stopped us from looking over our shoulders for the last nine years.”
A chill runs through my veins.
She heads up the front steps to the house, but I stay where I am, because this all-female family is making a lot more sense now, and I don’t want any of them thinking I’ll do anything but protect them from harm. I wish I’d been there, to…
Another awful feeling creeps over me, and bile burns at the back of my throat. “Fred?”
She pauses with her hand on the door knob.
“Did he hurt you?” The words come out in a growl, and she slowly turns and walks down the steps, until we’re at eye level.
“Vincent Monaghan, if you don’t un-ball your fists and wipe that murderous look off your face this instant, you will not set foot inside this house. What did I just tell you?”
I step back, force my hands to open, and rub my face, to break up whatever vengeful malice may linger in my expression. “That’s not an answer, Freddie.”
“And it’s my choice not to give you one,” she says, advancing. “Do you want to speak to me in that tone again? Is it your way of telling me you’re leaving?”
I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I just… The thought of…” I’ve seen too much violence in my work, not to think of her being hurt, but I do my best to block these kinds of thoughts. They’re not going to help this situation. I will be calm like she needs me to be, until I leave, and then I will find the asshole and make sure my angel will never be at risk from him again.
With that plan in place, it’s much easier to lose the tension in my body, but I can only hope it’s not too late. “I’m sorry you and your mom went through that, Fred.” In a bid to convince her I’m not a threat, I shrink myself as small as possible, but that never fucking works properly for someone my size. “If you think I’m too scary to be here, then I’ll leave. I know I can seem intimidating, and I have wished so many times that I didn’t. I can’t help the way I look, but I’ll do a better job of controlling how deep my voice gets when I’m upset.”
Fred doesn’t look swayed.
I swallow the lump in my throat, because this isn’t how I want to leave things. I wring my hands together, and then fish my pictures out of my back pocket and hold them out to her. “These are for the girls. I um… I did one for Ravee, too.” I hang my head and take another step back. “I know that sounds stupid. She doesn’t know who I am, and she’s too little to understand, but I didn’t want Lulu and Morrissey to think I forgot her or didn’t want to include her, and I—” I shake my head. “If you could tell them I was really looking forward to seeing… That maybe I’ll see theirs…?” I look to her for assistance with finishing my last phrase, terrified she’ll say never .
“Maybe next time,” she says. “Now doesn’t feel right anymore.”
I nod. “I’m sorry I ruined it.”
“Don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s an awkward situation, and I should have prepared you better. I didn’t think you’d enjoy hearing, that if I was ever under threat, my mother guarded my body with hers. There’s nothing to be done to change the past, except move on from it as best we can.” She looks at the folded papers in her hands, opens one, and smiles. “You’re an artist,” she says.
At first, I think she’s only changing the subject, but surprise and curiosity are plain on her face when she looks at me again. My cheeks flush with a more intense heat. “I dabble.”
The door opens behind her, and I try to look as non-threatening as possible when Fred’s mom steps out.
“Frederica? I was about to call the sheriff to send out a search par—” She stops short when she sees me, and then quickly moves in front of Fred. “ No ,” she says, pointing a warning finger at me.
I raise my hands in surrender. “I don’t want any trouble. I was just going.”
“ You’re meant to be leaving town,” she says, trying to herd her daughter inside.
Fred side-steps her corralling hands with a casual ease and comes to stand between us. “Mom, meet Vince.”
“No, thank you.” She looks like she wants to go back inside but doesn’t dare leave her daughter alone with me.
“He fixed the gate,” Fred says.
Her mother frowns. “I was going to fix that this weekend.”
“And now you don’t have to.” Fred’s tone is upbeat, as if she has no intention of letting her mother assume the worst of me. “How are the girls?”
“Fine. Raven’s down for a nap and the other two are dancing, as you can probably hear.”
Fred and I tilt our heads to listen, in time to hear the song end… and then start again.
“They’ve got it on repeat?” Fred asks. “Perfect. That’ll give us time to try these introductions again. What would you like Vince to call you when he visits again?” she says with a smile. “Because if you don’t choose a name, I’ll tell him to call you Mom or Gammy .”
“He can’t call me Mom .” She twists her face in disgust. “He’s the same age as I am.”
“ Gammy seems like a worse name for me to call you by, then,” I say with a wince. “How about I call you, Gail ? Word around town is that’s the name you normally go by.”
“How about don’t call me at all?” She looks at Fred and gestures at me. “If you can’t see what’s wrong with this choice, I don’t know where to start telling you, Frederica. Throw this whopper back and land one of the more reasonably sized fishes in the sea. Did you know he’s the reason you’ve had to start work early enough to bake twice the number of garlic twists?”
“I suspected.” Fred gives me a wink. “It may be the reason I didn’t mind getting up earlier.”
“I appreciate the effort,” I assure them both.
“I’m sure you appreciate more than you should.” Gail’s tone is cutting. “You have no business sniffing around my twenty-four-year-old daughter.”
Fred groans. “He’s allowed to sniff, and he’s allowed to think I smell good. Age isn’t that important, and we want the same things, Mom.”
“Really?” she asks. “He wants to donate his gargantuan sperm, and then disappear? Because the giant is looking at you like he wants to stick around and watch it hatch, child, and every part of that sounds dangerous to your health.”
I reverse a little more, hoping I’ll appear smaller.
“His name is Vince ,” Freddie says firmly. “And I like how big he is. I also enjoy his company and would like to spend more time with him. He’s very kind and sweet. Look what he made for the girls.” She hands her mom the first picture.
Gail looks at it, then at me, and then thrusts the paper back toward Fred. “Tricks and tokens. No .” She scowls at us. “I will not allow you to be seduced by this man. Art is just one of his weapons.”
Fred presses her hand to her head and closes her eyes. “A person’s inherent gifts are not their weapons, Mom.”
“His are,” Gail says, adamant. “I promise you. Go inside and check on your children.”
“ Mom .”
“I want to talk to this man alone,” she says, coming toward me. “If he can’t handle that, then he’s definitely up to something, so you’ll be wiser for it either way.”
Fred purses her lips and looks to me .
I give her a nod. “It’s okay,” I assure her. “I’ll be brave.”
She quirks her lips in an almost-smile before she sighs. “I’ll be back the second I hear something I don’t like,” she says and heads inside.
“What in the world do you want with my daughter?” Gail demands to know.
“Love. Acceptance. A family. To live happily ever after.” The words are automatic and true, but Gail snorts, and I frown.
“Why is that so funny?” I ask. “Is it so hard to believe that I adore your daughter? That I’d love to be with her and help her raise a bunch of kids? She’s amazing.”
“I know how amazing she is.” Gail sets her feet in a defensive stance. “I doubt you’ve had long enough to have any clue at all.”
“I would like to know her better,” I admit. “But I know how I feel about her. I knew within five minutes. Could feel it in my bones. We’re meant for each other.”
She rolls her eyes and scoffs. “Do you think I was born yesterday? I’m not falling for that fake-love, romantic bullshit, and if Fred’s so gullible she’s fallen for it, we’ll be having words. I taught her better than that.”
“It’s not fake or bullshit.” I’m offended she’d think I’m lying. “I’ve been looking for her all my life. I know what she is.”
“And what’s that?”
Mine .
I think it, but I don’t say it. A young woman’s mother may be about the worst person to make that claim to. It should be reserved for the bedroom and for making sure other men understand there’ll be repercussions for any inappropriate attention.
“ The One ,” I say instead, which is the same thing but less growly and possessive.
Gail snorts again. “Where in the world did she find you? You actually sound like you believe it.”
“Because I do,” I say as calmly as I can.
Is she trying to rile me? Hoping to prove a point? She thinks I’ll lose my cool and become dangerous? I sigh and lower my gaze, so she won’t feel threatened. “Gail, I understand why you may feel defensive, but I promise you, I have nothing but good intentions toward your daughter and her family — including you.”
“So what’s your plan?” she asks, ignoring my declaration. “You’re going to move in here with us? Raise some giant kids? Probably kill her in the process? Are you hoping to inherit the land when that happens? Because it’s in Morrissey’s name, and I’ll be making damned sure you never get your hands on any kind of adoption papers or whatever you’d need to steal it out from under her.”
I raise my palms in an attempt to stop her line of thought. “ Whoa . Hang on a second there, Gail.” I step forward, and she moves back. “The last thing I want is for these girls to be without their mama or their livelihood. I’m not a monster, and this isn’t about money. I have a ton already. I’ve been saving for the life I want to live since I was a teen. I have a lucrative business, and when you’re childless and have basically been single for as long as I have, it builds up pretty fast. I’m not trying to do anything immoral; I just found a beautiful girl who’s not scared of my size — or of speaking her mind — and I want a chance to prove to her that I’m worth her time.”
Gail narrows her eyes. “What kind of work do you do?”
“I’m a private investigator.”
Her eyes fly wide. “Get out .”
Fred bursts onto the porch, her expression one of shock and concern. “ Mom , what?—”
Gail points at me and addresses Fred in a harsh tone. “Where did he find you?”
Fred plunges her eyebrows downward and flinches. “It’s more like I found him. Why are you yelling?”
Gail shakes her head. “A private investigator just happened to fall in your path? Uh-uh. I forbid this, Frederica.”
Fred’s confused expression intensifies, and she looks at me. “He does research , Mom.”
I wince, and her eyes grow rounder than her mothers. “You’re a P.I. ?” She ushers her mom toward the door. “Did he send you?”
“What?” I look around for answers, as I follow. “Who?”
“My father ,” she practically snarls.
I stop in my tracks. She thinks I’d help a wife-beater find his victims? How badly did he treat them if they’d assume such a thing? I shake my head. “Nobody sent me, Fred,” I say calmly, hoping to ease their panic. “I don’t know your father. I don’t even know his name.”
“Don’t play dumb. I already know you’re a frickin’ genius.” She places her body in front of the door, as if to shield her mom from me. “The library. The research you were doing was about me , Vince. My family.”
“Because I was curious ,” I explain. “I wasn’t ready to talk to you, because I didn’t want to say the wrong thing and scare you off. I was searching for the truth in the town rumors about this beautiful babymaker, but I was also looking for clues, because I was already falling for you and imagining the family we could have together. I needed all the help I could get if I was going to impress you, so you’d give me a shot. It’s like your mom said — I’m hardly a catch, Fred. I’ve been thrown back enough times to know it. I didn’t keep anything from you intentionally; we just haven’t done a lot of talking.”
Her hard expression doesn’t soften. “Tell me why you’re in town in the first place.”
“I’m visiting Daryl. He’s one of my oldest friends, and the only one who isn’t settled with a family, so I feel less pathetic when we hang out. I don’t get out of the city a lot, but sometimes, I just… need to. My brain works better in the country, and Daz said he wanted to hang out more, and he moved here a while ago, but I hadn’t seen his place, and I miss the countryside and the peace, and then I met you, and I fell in love .”
Her eyes grow even wider, and not in the excited way I would hope for. Maybe Daryl was right, to ban me from telling her I’ve fallen so hard and so fast, but she wants honesty, and there’s no way I can hide anything from her when she’s looking for any reason not to trust me.
“I’m only going back to quit my job, so I can move here to be closer to you,” I blurt out. “So I can do everything in my power to make you happy. Because I am desperate for you to love me back, Frederica.” I sink to my knees before her. “You feel like home, and I don’t fit anywhere else.” I wipe my brow and try to get my breathing under control.
Her eyes ignite with a glare so startling, I get to my feet and hurry backward.
She marches right at me. “Are you talking about your penis?” she whisper-growls.
“No . I’m… I have a heart , Frederica.” I stumble over a big potted plant on the edge of the path, fall, and crack the thing in half when it topples and hits the paving stones. I rush to salvage the thing, putting pieces back together, as if I can fix this terrible, shattered attempt at making a good impression on Fred and her family.
Gail storms out of the front door, wielding a baseball bat. “You broke my pot?”
I raise my hands defensively, and all the pieces I was trying to fit back around the roots of the big lavender plant crash onto the stone path again and break into even smaller pieces. “It was an accident.”
“That’s what they all say,” she says, still coming for me.
Fred steps between us. “It was an accident. He tripped.” She yanks the bat from her mother’s hand, rubs her face, and sighs. She cranes her neck to look toward the house. “Mom, please go back inside and make sure the girls can’t hear any of this,” she says, before she turns her attention back to me. “Vince, I think you should leave before this situation gets any worse.”
I hang my head, slowly get to my feet, and nod. “I swear I was trying to be likable, Fred.” I look around and see all the elements of the beautiful life I wanted, and then have to turn my back on it all. “I’m sorry I let you down.”
“I didn’t say you did.” She follows me to the gate. “And I don’t like you less. I would have preferred if things had gone differently, but there isn’t anything that can be done about it today. This will take some time to smooth over, but you’re going to call me when you get home, and we’ll talk more about it then. Travel safely, Vincent Monaghan. And thank you for fixing the gate,” she says, testing its swing.
I search her face. “It’s not over? I didn’t ruin everything?”
“I have a heart too” — a half-shrug accompanies her half-smile — “and it would hurt if I never saw you again.” She rests her hands on her belly and drums her fingers against the fabric of her dress. “I think the universe brought us together for a reason, and I’m still hopeful that things will work out for the best.”
I let relief wash over me, and then I blow her a kiss. “So am I. I’ll keep trying, Angel.”
The local stores didn’t have a suitable terracotta planter replacement, so I stole the big one from the pretty centerpiece-like display in Daryl’s garden. Its absence ruins the whole effect he was going for, but he won’t mind donating the large urn for the sake of love. Not this time. This time it’s the real thing — I know this, because I am about to approach possibly the fiercest, most Vincent-hating woman I have ever met and attempt to win her over.
Well, to smooth the waters, at least. It won’t be easy, but it must be done if I’m going to be a part of Fred’s life.
The bell above the bakery door jingles multiple times, as I navigate the inadequately sized opening, encumbered by my awkward cargo.
I’m barely halfway in when Gail sets her boundary. “ No .”
“C’mon, Gail. Is this any way to greet your best customer?” I ask lightly, with what I hope is a warm and inoffensive smile.
“No. It’s the way I greet the middle-aged giant trying to impregnate my much younger and much smaller daughter.”
I take a steeling breath and set the large pot on the ground. “Size and age don’t matter when souls find their mates.”
“There will be no mating ,” she says through her teeth. “And you can’t leave that pot there. What were you even thinking? It’s ginormous. You’re clearly not the sharpest tool in the shed if you think I would accept this pathetic offering of God only knows what. An apology? A bribe? A dowry ? In what world would I accept that and pedal it home on my bicycle?”
I frown. “It’s a gesture. A sign that I’m hoping to make amends. That I will face your terrifying wrath, because I love your daughter, and I want her life to be happy and peaceful — which it won’t be, unless you and I can get along, because we are going to be a family one day. With any luck, there’s already a baby on the way. And I didn’t expect you’d be able to lift this thing, let alone move it anywhere. I’ll deliver it before I leave today, but I came with it, to show you that I may be large and terrible at making good first impressions, but I’m not a bad man. I mean well, and I’m sorry for the way our proper introduction went this morning. Can we please try again, in a more civilized manner?”
She looks me over and shakes her head. “Nothing changes the fact that you’re too big and too old for her. You’re twice her age and twice her size — maybe thrice .”
“At least I’m not seventy-something, like Paul was,” I argue. “I don’t have a comeback for the size thing. Your ratio seems pretty accurate. I am big. I can’t help that. But if Frederica’s not bothered by it, I don’t see why it should matter to you. It can be quite helpful in certain situations.” I nudge the huge urn with my foot as proof of what I can do that others cannot.
“I know all about situations in which brute strength is essential.” She tilts her head toward the light and traces a faded scar along her jaw — her crooked jaw.
Careful not to let my anger at her injury curl my hands into fists, I intentionally stretch and wiggle my fingers. “I’m sorry for your experience. I would never?—”
“That’s what they always say.” Gail squints at me, her eyes beady and sharp. “There’s no way we’ll ever trust you.”
“I’ll earn it. And I will keep you all safe.”
“From yourself?”
“You aren’t in any danger from me,” I assure her — not that my assurances seem to be making any difference. “ How can I prove to you that I’m harmless, if you remain unconvinced of it, despite all absence of harm?”
She nods. “Exactly. You’re a little dim, but you’re getting it now. I’ll say it again for you, more slowly. We will never trust another man.”
“Then that’s the first thing I’ll have to remedy.” And I have no idea how to do that. “May I please have all the remaining garlic twists, two cream buns, and two of the larger cookies?” She looks at me as if I’m asking for half the store, and I sort of am, I guess. “Food helps me think,” I say with a shrug, as I put a fifty-dollar bill on the counter.
Gail glares at the money, and then at me. “You think you can buy my approval?”
On the verge of exasperation, I do my best not to roll my eyes. “No, Gail. I just eat a lot, and Fred’s a damned fine baker. I can’t get enough, and when I get a chance, I’m going to marry her.”
She snorts and her follow-up laugh is cold. Almost cruel. “She doesn’t believe in marriage, you big fool.”
“She doesn’t?” I hate how surprised and pathetically heartbroken I sound. I also hate that Gail seems emboldened by it.
She stands taller and steps closer, like a clear victor coming to deliver the final blow. “You obviously don’t know her well enough, Vincent. But I do. I know exactly how wonderful and magnetic that girl is. She draws male gazes like nobody else and they always desire to master her free spirit. I’ve protected her from every kind of man you can imagine for longer than you’d care to think about. Don’t take it personally that I despise intimidatingly large men, wanting to hang around and fuck my daughter. Just know that she isn’t for you, and you aren’t welcome in our family. We have a male-less system that works, so go swing your big dick in another direction.”
My mind sorts through her words at lightning speed. Protecting Freddie from men? For longer than…?
“I need a list.” I didn’t mean to growl the words. I’m really going to have to work on that, because Gail looks far less fierce than she did a second ago.
She holds a hand to her chest and looks almost fragile. “Excuse me?”
“A list,” I say more softly and with greater attention to my tone. “Every man who ever thought to harm or touch either of you against your wishes. I want them all, but I’ll prioritize the worst. Is her father as much of a risk of coming after you both as your fear this morning implied?”
She looks me over, easing away. “Why?”
“Because I specialize in tracking perpetrators of crimes against vulnerable people — particularly women and children — and I would like to pursue said predators and ensure that all risk is nullified and adequate justice is delivered. It’s my job. As an investigator, and as the man in love with you daughter.”
Her hands tremble a little, and she takes another step back. “Please stay away from my daughter.”
I drag my hands down my face and nod. “Gail, I understand your wariness. I’m male. I’m big. I’m a stranger in town. These are scary things for anyone, let alone someone with your traumatic experiences. You love your daughter, and you want what’s best for her and her family.” I hold my hand over my heart. “I want that too. If I’m ever not the best thing for Fred, I promise you, I will walk away. But I don’t see how it wouldn’t be in her best interest to have someone who loves and adores her dedicate his life to protecting her and providing her with everything she could hope to dream of, so I don’t like your chances of me disappearing anytime soon.”
Gale’s expression turns thoughtful. “Well, you’ll be absent for quite some time, if you dedicate as much time to tracking down predators and delivering justice as you do to seducing my child.” She pulls a pen and notepad out from under the counter and rips the grocery list off the top. “It’s a long list. It’ll keep you busy for a while. We’ve moved around a lot, so these men are scattered across the country. I’ll give you the states they’re most likely in, but they’ve undoubtedly moved along. Skipping town is all the rage for criminals, as you must know. Good luck on your travels, Mr. Monaghan. I doubt you’ll have time to return here, but we’ll sleep easier, knowing you’ve dedicated your life to protecting Frederica, as you so desire.”
She tears off the notepaper and hands it to me.
I stare at the many outlandish or overly-common names she’s written. “I’m assuming most, if not all, of these names are bogus, and you’re seeking to keep me occupied elsewhere?”
“ Oh no .” She gives me a flat stare. “They’re all very real names. You’ll find them in a number of phone directories. This man here is very nasty and has evaded justice so many times you wouldn’t believe.” She reaches across, to tap the tip of her pen at the name John Smith . “A real Houdini, that one. Good luck with your research. Frederica tells me you’re good at it — another reason I’m disconcerted by your presence. It doesn’t seem right to investigate the woman you claim to love. It’s a form of stalking, if you ask me. A glaring sign of clear and present danger. Good day.”
I meet her challenging stare, and then give up with a sigh. There’s no point in trying to sway her further today. I’ll have to chalk it up to a work in progress and do more research — which I’m sure will be used against me again at some stage. I bend my knees and pick up the big urn. “I wasn’t stalking her. I only wanted a better idea of her situation, so I wouldn’t get my heart broken.”
“And luckily for you, your research has finally proved you have no chance with her, so if you leave now, you should avoid any heartbreak,” she says, waving me out.
She locks the door after I exit, and waits on the other side of the window with her arms folded until I walk away.
I do so. Slowly and awkwardly.