Chapter 11
Used the last of the milk if you don’t mind picking some up.
Get your email on file with the school for Harper. My ass almost missed picture day.
No more fucking glitter.
Park on the other side of the stairs. Blocked me in yesterday.
Porch light is out. Don’t try to change it, I’ll do it.
Forgot your phone again.
Ithumb through my growing stack of nonsensical notes from Greyson. It’s been weeks since he got me my phone and insisted I use it. But the only way he communicates with me is through scrap paper.
His notes are practical, borderline rude, but butterflies dance in my stomach every time I spot one of them on the counter by his coffee pot.
I always write back; and my notes are always gone, replaced by another of his. I’m sure he doesn’t keep mine, but for some asinine reason, I haven’t been brave enough to check the kitchen trash to see if my notes are ever on top of the pile.
I took a zippy bag from the pantry to store his notes in, and I keep it in the top dresser drawer Everly can’t reach.
I finally felt safe enough to unpack—not that there was much to unpack. I went through the bins of Harper’s old clothes and let’s just say Everly’s set with hand-me-downs for eternity. That means I was able to buy myself a few basic items at the consignment shop down the street.
One of the things I bought was a small crossbody purse with a built-in wallet that fits my phone too. I know exactly where our important documents are, I check on them every single day. Everything else I carry with me in that little purse.
Sometimes I forget to take it off when we get home. Home. What a strange concept. I never had a stable home growing up. Carter’s house was never a home, it was a prison. But this small second-story apartment feels more like home after only a few weeks than anywhere else I’ve ever lived.
I’d like to think Everly feels comfortable here as well. I sheltered her from as much as possible at the old house, but she’s an intuitive child, and I’m sure she picked up on more than any child should have to.
Rapid knocking on my bedroom door has me fumbling the notes back into the zippy bag and closing the dresser drawer as quickly and quietly as possible.
“Mama! Are you ready? I wanna go!” Everly hollers through the hollow-core door.
I’ve been getting dressed for far longer than necessary because we’re heading out to Lucky Spurs Ranch for Greyson’s sister’s birthday party. Two of my shirts are drenched with stress-sweat because I’m attending the party as a guest, not as Harper’s nanny.
The Andersens have been nothing short of incredible to me and Everly, but I haven’t really socialized with them.
I haven’t had the same experiences as many people my age have. I didn’t mess around in high school because it was hard enough to graduate when moving schools so often, and because I stopped caring about much at all after Charlie died.
Then I was swept away under Carter, and he didn’t allow me to have any friends. I was permitted to make small talk with his friends’ wives at work events or gatherings, but they were so different from me, as well as older, so I mostly kept quiet by his side.
Instead of answering her, I open the door and sweep her into a hug. “Are you so excited?”
“Yes! Harper said I can pet the horses!”
“That’ll be so fun, baby! Let’s grab you a jacket since it might get chilly outside tonight.”
Following her to the front door, I fight the urge to look over my shoulder but fail. No note on the counter. Disappointment dampens my mood, which is stupid because he hasn’t been home since I’ve been back. The notes don’t appear by magic.
“Well, aren’t you just the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.” Delilah fawns over Everly as soon as we enter the main house at the ranch.
“Isn’t she?” Izzy coos from Everly’s other side.
My daughter may not be used to so much attention but she’s eating it up like candy.
“Is it alright if we take her to see the horses?” Izzy asks me. “Livy got Harper saddled as soon as she got here and they’re walking the south paddock.”
My eyes must widen an inhuman amount because Delilah chimes in, “We won’t let Everly get on a horse, just pet some fuzzy noses and feed some treats.”
Once I can breathe again, I relent and am left in the main house by myself. Wildly uncomfortable and antsy, I explore the front living room.
Family photos pepper the walls, shelves, and mantles across the space. I thought everyone was exaggerating when they said Greyson was like one of the Andersen brothers, but the proof is in the pictures.
He stands beside the three brothers, and if I didn’t know any better, I would’ve assumed there were in fact, four Andersen brothers.
The youngest in the photos is unfamiliar to me, though I’ve barely interacted with the eldest either. As the boys age into men, the youngest brother stops appearing in the pictures. I look a few frames back, and forward again, to make sure I haven’t missed him somewhere.
“He died a couple years ago.” Greyson’s deep voice startles me, hand flying to my chest, backed against the bookcase.
“Didn’t mean to scare you.” He points at the photos I was examining, the loss of the youngest brother in each frame.
“Sam. Miss him every day. Ain’t the same without the bastard.” He chuckles.
I’m no stranger to covering grief with humor, and in a way, I feel more connected with Greyson for it. They may not have shared blood, but he lost a brother the same as I lost my sister.
“I’m sorry for your loss.”
Greyson simply nods in reply. To escape the tension between us, I continue walking the perimeter of the room.
I reach a shelf that pulls a giggle from my throat. “Are these armadillos?”
“That, they are.” He chuckles. “It was a Sam thing.”
It’s strange but equally enchanting.
“Thank you for inviting us to the party,” I say, breaking the comfortable silence.
A nod is all I get in reply, but nothing more is needed.
“You settling in alright?”
I take a deep, cleansing breath. “Yes, I think so.”
“What’s the hesitation?”
Do I tell him? How do I say it without sounding ungrateful?
“I feel like I’m doing everything expected of me as Harper’s nanny.”
“More than what’s expected. You’re a godsend.” His praise sends chills up the back of my neck.
“But I have a lot of downtime when the girls are in school. I was wondering…would you consider letting me help at the hardware store?”
His grimace socks me in the gut. I thought he’d be taken aback but not horrified.
“I know I don’t have retail experience, but I just want to stay busy and feel useful,” I say pitifully.
“I don’t have anything for you at the hardware store. Me and a weekend employee have always been enough to keep the place running.” Well, there goes that idea. “What if you linked up with Delilah and work with the therapy horses?”
“The what?”
“Delilah runs an equine-assisted learning program here at the ranch. She’s got a background in psychology and works with the horses to help people work through all sorts of things.
She has school kids come out for field trips, veterans with PTSD, a really popular women’s group, and folks with anxiety and depression. ”
I’m too quick to protest. “I don’t have anxiety or depression.”
Greyson holds his hands up as a sign of peace. “Not sayin’ you do. I more so meant, she can always use help. Maybe you could spend some time at the stables and see if it’s something you could fill some time with.”
“Try what?” A feminine voice pulls my attention from Greyson.
“Mia might spend some time at the stables with Delilah,” he answers his sister.
Olivia looks like the girls I avoided in school: impossibly beautiful, outgoing, graceful, and beloved. The difference is that the girls I hid from were judgmental and cruel. Olivia on the other hand, might be one of the kindest souls I’ll ever meet.
“Oh my god, that’s amazing! Mia—can I call you Mia? You’re going to love it. Ooo!” Her gleeful clap startles both me and Greyson. “Izzy and I could come and have a girls day!”
“You’re gonna scare her off,” Greyson huffs.
“You hush,” Olivia snips.
I never had many friends, moving around so often, let alone a girl group. All I had was Charlie. Part of me wants to curl in on myself and hide; but a bigger part wants to embrace this new life I’ve found myself in.
“I’d really like that.”
“Eeeee!” Olivia jumps in place, squealing. “Come!” She takes me by the hand and drags me stumbling from the living room.
I chance a look over my shoulder, and the bemused affection on Greyson’s face warms my heart for more reason than one.
“Mama, you’re so pretty!”
“Thank you, baby!” I thought I’d be more self-conscious, but this is the most fun I’ve had in a long time.
After Olivia, who immediately insisted I call her Livy or Liv, gave me a tour of the stables, we linked up with Izzy and Delilah and the kiddos. She declared it was “girl time” and that the rest of the family was on their own, but everyone laughed it off, as if it was quintessential Livy.
I’m not sure what I expected when she pulled me into one of the guest bedrooms in the main house—but it wasn’t getting dressed up like a Barbie for two hours. These incredible women collectively shopped for me from their closets, and I’m speechless.
“I want to look like a princess too!” Everly playfully whines.
“Me too!” Harper piles on.
“Miss Livy is sooooo beautiful. She looks just like Ariel,” Everly declares.
“Ooo! Auntie Izzy and Auntie Delilah look like Cinderella and Rapunzel!” Harper’s observation is spot on. Delilah’s hair flows far down her back, carefree and natural, and Izzy could 100 percent pass for a modern-day Cinderella.
“Mama, you look like Sleeping Beauty!” Everly exclaims.
“Aurora!” Harper adds.
“Who?”
“Aurora is Sleeping Beauty’s real name,” Harper explains.
“Ohhhhh.” Everly nods as if Harper’s solved the world’s greatest mystery.
I’m honored my daughter thinks I look like a princess. I hope she always keeps that magic in her spirit, and also that she might look up to me long after she doesn’t need me anymore.
I want to be the mother I wished I’d had, the best possible mother to my little girl.
“That’s perfect! Because Aurora gets rescued by the prince—” Everly starts but is interrupted by Harper.
“Prince Philip!”
“Yea, him! Mama I wish we could get rescued by a prince.”
The room freezes. The girls are playing with the clothes and shoes as if a bomb wasn’t just dropped.
“What do you mean, baby? We don’t need rescued, we’re doing just fine.”
“But what if Daddy finds us?”
My heart stops. I have no idea how much she knows or has picked up on, but it’s the first time since we left she’s asked about Carter at all. I should’ve addressed it with her sooner, but I was selfishly glad to float in this world where he didn’t exist.
“Why don’t you girls go find Cecelia and see if she has any dessert for you?” Livy suggests, and ushers the skipping children from the room, shutting the door behind them.
I sink onto the clothes-covered bed.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Izzy asks at the same time Delilah says, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
Livy sits beside me and rubs soft circles on my back.
“It’s okay. You all deserve to know, especially since my problems could come knocking at your door.”
The women wait, giving me the time and space I need to gather myself.
“Everly’s dad, Carter, is my husband. It wasn’t a…safe environment, which is why we ended up on a bus that landed us here.”
“Are you in immediate danger?” Izzy asks.
“I wish I could say no, but I honestly don’t know what’s going through his head. Part of me thinks if he hasn’t come looking yet, he might just let us go. But there’s also a chance he won’t stop until he finds us.”
The ugly truth tastes like ash on my tongue, but getting the poison out of my body is cathartic.
“Does my brother know all of this?” Livy asks tentatively.
“I think he suspects, but we haven’t talked about it.”
The girls nod, mulling over the information I’ve vomited in their unexpecting laps.
“If there’s anyone on this planet who can keep you safe, it’s Greyson.” Livy’s tone is grave but confident. Izzy and Delilah enthusiastically nod their agreement.
The funny thing is, I think my heart already knew that.