Chapter 9
9
CONSTANCE
Two weeks later…
“Mom, this is dumb. Why couldn’t we have driven here instead?” Paige huffed impatiently at the airport as Constance was looking at the screens to see which baggage claim she was supposed to go to. The plane had changed gates twice on arrival, and apparently, everything was messed up to the point that the flight attendant said on the intercom, “We promise we’ll get your bags to you – I’m just not sure if it’s baggage claim A or baggage claim D anymore”… and gave a weird ‘ hee hee ’ that made Constance want to stand up and shake the woman.
Hee hee, my butt, she thought, beyond frustrated and tired – and knew the kids had to be feeling the same way.
Keith had said at first that he wanted to fly down to return with them, but then the electrician had to come back out to the house to replace the rest of the light fixtures that had to be ordered. Yet another change, yet another delay in seeing him, and things were getting tough between them. He stopped using Facetime and texted instead, which didn’t seem as personal or intimate between them.
“Mom, can we go?”
“Paige, wait a moment…”
“Momma, I gotta go potty,” Kayla said suddenly, and Constance immediately turned, grabbing Paige’s hand and sprinting for the nearest family bathroom, which thankfully happened to be thirty feet away.
“Kayla, hang on, sweetie,” she rushed, silently begging that she didn’t meet Keith for the first time in two weeks with bodily waste down the side of her shirt from where the toddler was propped on her hip. To Kayla, ‘potty’ meant anything – and it was usually immediate.
Putting the toddler on the potty, Constance glanced down at her shirt and sighed in relief before whispering a ‘Thank you!’ quickly. A few minutes later, they were all washing their hands and singing a ‘ Row, Row, Row Your Boat ’ as the children stood on a metal step stool over the sink. Yeah, this was a blessing for a moment, getting them out of the hustle and bustle of the airport. Wiping Kayla’s hands, she pointed at the trashcan for Paige before holding out her hand again, scooping up the toddler. Everything was checked – and that included her stroller. Carrying forty pounds of child was easier than the stress of trying to hang onto a squirming child who would dart off without a second thought.
“Okay,” Constance said determinedly. “Let’s go find, Keith.”
“Can we not , and pretend that we did?”
“Paige,” she drew up, staring at her daughter in disbelief. “Look, I need your help with this and understanding. Keith is going to live with us. He’s your new stepfather, and while I will never forget your daddy – Keith is my friend. I need you to be nice to him for me. You don’t have to like him, but you do have to be polite.”
“He looks at you weird.”
“How?”
“Like he wants to do this,” Paige uttered, and then to her disbelief, her daughter started mock hugging and kissing herself, sticking out her tongue and almost touching her cheek, chin, and nose, as she tried to literally lick her face all over… and stopped on a dime. “It’s disgusting.”
Constance barked out a laugh – and heard the sweetest sound in the distance, Keith’s laughter. She looked over her shoulder to see him standing there, holding a bouquet of pink roses – and two balloons.
“Ba-wooon, Mama,” Kayla announced, holding up her hand excitedly. “Look, Paige… there’s a ba-wooon!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Paige grumbled, causing Constance to look at her swiftly. “What? I agreed. It’s a dorky pink balloon.”
“Be… nice…” Constance stressed, realizing she was just about fed up with everything with today, with the move, with people, with all of it. “I just want to get to our new home, sit down, and stop moving for a bit. So let’s go see Keith so we can make that happen sometime within the next two hours.”
“What happens if it’s three hours?” Paige mumbled under her breath – and Constance jerked her to a stop, glaring at her child, who looked so much like her. “Sorry, Mom…”
“If it’s three hours, then it’s three hours, but either way – we are going to our new home, keeping an open mind, and on an adventure together. Okay?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Now, let’s try this again,” Constance muttered, trying to be upbeat and hesitated, looking at both kids, realizing that they might be picking up on her own mood and her own attitude toward this whole even. She was frustrated with the move, with Keith, with her marriage-that-wasn’t-a-marriage, and beyond frustrated with herself for being scared to handle the problems herself.
“Hey…” Keith said simply in welcome – and that seemed to say so much. They were friends. No hug, no kiss, no ‘ honey, I missed you’ … but an awkward ‘ hey ’ tossed casually. “Can I help with something? Want me to carry Kayla? I’m parked close by. Hi Paige. I think you’ve grown two inches since I’ve seen you.”
Bless him, he was trying. Maybe it was her?
“Hi, yes, um… can you take Kayla. I’ll get the bag and the stroller…”
“Wait, I can get it,” he interrupted softly, touching her arm. “I didn’t know you checked a bag or a stroller. I’m here ,” he stressed, meeting her gaze. “I’m here. Let me help.”
Yup, she was hitting her breaking point and looked away before she started crying. Nodding, she drew in a shaky breath as they started toward the baggage claim carousel.
“You look great,” he said softly, “I think you’ll really like the house.”
“I’m sure it’s going to be fine, so long as I can sit down for a few,” she hesitated and looked at him. “I’m just really tired and done with people. I’m not a crowd person, and I think thirty to a classroom was my absolute limit.”
“I get it,” he smiled in understanding, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he held out his hands. “Here, Kayla. Let me carry you for a few minutes while your mom takes a break.”
“No,” the little girl said – and Paige gave her a thumbs up happily. Great . The two were conspiring now? And before Constance could say anything,
Keith frowned, looked at Paige, and uttered, “Really?” – before pulling Kayla out of her arms to hold the worn-out toddler.
“Noooo I want Mama,” Kayla immediately squirmed. “Paigie, help meee…”
“Stop it,” Keith said firmly. “I want to help your mama and if you don’t want the tickle monster to hug you then…”
Kayla perked up. “Tickle monster?”
“Rawrrr,” Keith offered and blew raspberries on Kayla’s cheek, causing the little girl to laugh wildly as she struggled to get away. “I would get Paige, but I’m afraid she would glare me to death…”
“Ha ha, funny… Keith .”
“Paige…”
“What? His name is Keith,” Paige snapped, pointing at the man in question. “You call him Keith. Why can’t I?”
“Because if your mother called me ‘Daddy,’ it has a different connotation,” Keith began and then sounded like he was strangling as Constance turned to stare at him in disbelief – along with several other people in the baggage claim area. “You can call me Keith, Paige. Keith is just fine.”
“See, Mom?”
“That’s fine – just keep the tone out of it,” Constance said, picking up the stroller from the baggage claim belt and shaking it out, causing it to pop open easily… and paused. Kayla had her head down on Keith’s shoulder and was sound asleep.
“She’s fine,” he said softly, smiling at her. “This is kinda nice, you know? It really hits a person in the gut.”
“Is that a request?” Paige chimed in, grinning, and Keith laughed in disbelief before looking at her daughter.
“You know what, little tiger? We’ll take it on the ice, and you can take me if you think you can,” Keith smirked as Paige grinned, slapping her hand out to ‘shake’ on it like some bargain was being made. “I’m serious. On the ice, if you are mad at me for who-knows-what reason, and you think you can check me, do it. That’s your time to get it out of your system, but the rest of the time, you must behave for your pretty mama.”
“Deal – and you’re going down… Keith .”
“You can try… Paige ,” he chuckled, grinning at Constance, who was watching the three of them in disbelief. It wasn’t exactly the warm and fuzzy bonding that she hoped for, but it was something. “Let’s go home.”
And she nodded, at a complete loss for words.
T wenty minutes later, Kayla was breathing heavily in her booster seat, completely asleep, and even Paige’s eyelids were getting heavy with exhaustion as they pulled into the U-shaped driveway in front of the house. A new country. A new home. A new life. It was all so much to take in at once, and as much as Constance wanted to hold onto her reservations, she couldn’t deny the small flicker of hope that ignited in her chest when Keith turned to her with that gentle look.
“Welcome home,” Keith said softly, his voice carrying more meaning than just the words. There was warmth there. Reassurance. A silent promise that he would make this transition as easy as possible for her and the girls.
Her lips parted, but no words came. She simply nodded, swallowing back the sudden lump in her throat.
“Let’s get the kids inside, and we can talk,” he continued, already reaching for Kayla’s sleeping form in the booster. “Leave the bag and the stroller. I can come get it in a few minutes.”
Too exhausted to argue, she let him take charge, watching as he effortlessly cradled her daughter in his arms. She hadn’t expected it to feel so natural—to see him like this, carrying Kayla as if he’d done it a hundred times before. It struck her deep in her soul, a tenderness she hadn’t quite prepared for.
As they walked inside, the warmth of the house wrapped around her like a long-lost embrace, making her sigh in relief. The house smelled fresh, clean, yet distinctly unfamiliar. It wasn’t home yet, but it was a start.
Keith led the way to one of the bedrooms, his steps careful, mindful of the small bundle sleeping against his chest. Constance followed close behind, her gaze darting around as she took in the details of the house. She barely had time to process the layout before they reached Kayla’s room, and the moment she stepped inside, her breath hitched in disbelief.
Against the wall was a delicate little white four-poster twin bed, perfectly sized for her little girl. A net railing lined one side, ensuring she wouldn’t fall out, and the entire thing was draped in the softest white eyelet sheets and a matching topper. It looked like something out of a fairytale, a princess bed fit for a child who had endured far too much change in such a short amount of time. And in the corner, as if waiting for Kayla to wake up and discover it, was a Barbie castle, perfectly set up and ready to be played with.
“Oh, Keith…”
The words barely left her lips, choked with emotion as tears pricked her eyes. She hadn’t expected this. Hadn’t expected him to think of something so personal, so intimate. It was more than just a bed. It was a gesture—a statement—that Kayla belonged here.
Keith laid Kayla down carefully, his large hands surprisingly gentle as he pulled off her tiny shoes. He looked up at Constance then, helplessness written all over his face. “I don’t know what else to do,” he admitted with a sheepish shrug. “Do I take off her socks? That’s about all I’m comfortable with.”
A soft laugh bubbled up inside her as she shook her head, stepping forward to take over. “I’ve got it,” she murmured, easily slipping off Kayla’s leggings and tucking the comforter around her small body. She smoothed a hand over her daughter’s hair, brushing away a stray curl, and took a steadying breath before turning back around—only to find that Keith had already disappeared.
Frowning, she stepped out into the hallway, following the quiet murmur of voices down the hall. She stopped short just outside another bedroom, pressing a hand to the doorframe as she listened.
“I’m sorry they painted over the Mario stuff,” Keith was saying, his voice steady yet tinged with something careful, as if he were treading lightly. “But I hope you like this. If you don’t, all you have to do is tell me what you want, and we’ll figure it out.”
“This is… for me?” Paige’s voice was laced with skepticism, disbelief hanging in the air between them.
“Yeah,” Keith answered, and Constance could hear the smile in his voice. “My cool new daughter needs a wicked room, you know? It’s bragging rights on the ice…”
“I can’t believe this.”
Constance peered inside, her heart squeezing at the sight of her eldest standing in the middle of the room, eyes wide as she took in her new space. It wasn’t just a bedroom—it was an experience. A hockey-themed sanctuary with a sleek new bed and custom wall art that screamed personality. It was undeniably cool, and the fact that Keith had thought to put this together for her daughter… it was overwhelming.
“Look, I don’t mind you calling me Keith—and I think it’s cool that you want to learn hockey, but no one is forcing you to like it,” Keith continued, his tone easy, patient. “If you’d prefer something else, that’s fine with me… but I thought this would be neat to show you what it could look like in here.”
Paige was silent for a beat, processing, before she finally relented. “I like it… a lot—and I can’t believe you thought of this,” she said, though her tone was just shy of snide. Constance pressed a hand over her mouth, smothering her laugh. Her daughter had perfected the art of sarcasm, and she wasn’t holding back now.
“Yeah, well, I wish I could take credit for it,” Keith admitted, “but my friend Kenneth suggested it. His son, Zachary, is five and really little, so they have a net in place to keep him from falling out of his bed—but you’re much older and don’t need that. But it still has a certain ‘cool’ factor, doesn’t it?”
Paige huffed. “As much as I hate to admit it… it is cool.”
Keith grinned. “Then that works for me.”
“Aren’t you expecting me to say ‘thank you’?” Paige asked eyebrow arched.
Keith just chuckled. “No, because you’re part of my family now, and I want you to be happy here. If you want to say thank you, that’s up to you, but it doesn’t change the fact that I think you’re an incredible kid.”
Constance’s throat tightened at his words. He meant it. Every single one of them said effortlessly to the little girl. Paige hesitated, her walls cracking, though her stubborn daughter refused to let them crumble completely.
“The team sent you a Wolverines jersey, too,” Keith added, holding it up for her to see. “With my number on it—because our family is number one.”
To Constance’s utter disbelief, Paige laughed.
A real, genuine laugh.
“You’re a dork,” Paige quipped, arms crossing. “But an okay dork, I guess.”
“I’ll take it,” Keith replied, clearly pleased. “I’ll send your mom in to tuck you in.”
As he stepped into the hallway, he nearly ran into Constance, who had been standing there the whole time, silently witnessing the moment unfold. Her heart swelled in her chest, full and aching.
“You’re up, Mama Bear…” he said softly, touching her hand, his fingers brushing against hers. “I’ll meet ya’ in the living room.”
Her heart wobbled precariously in her chest as she looked at Paige, who was watching them with a sharp eye. Stepping into the room, she saw that there was a goalie mask on the ceiling fan protecting the lights, a stick and a puck hanging from the chains, and two hockey sticks mounted on the walls as decoration. The room was painted cream-colored with blue and red bold stripes, reminding her of his uniform accents. Keeping it a cream color made sure it wasn’t overwhelming, and all the hockey stuff stood out. There was even a license plate over the door that said ‘Wolverines’ on it – and one over the closet door that said ‘Paige’. It was such a thoughtful room – from a guy who simply wanted to make them feel welcome.
“Do you like it?” she asked softly, whispering to her daughter to keep the conversation between them. “It seems like he put a lot of thought into making this room special for you.”
“Yeah… it’s nice,” Paige hesitated. “Mom, he’s nice sometimes, even if he can be weird – but he’s not Daddy.”
“No, he’s not – and he never will be,” Constance said softly, tucking a curl behind her daughter’s ear. “No one can replace your dad, but there is no reason that Keith can’t be your friend… and I think that is all he is hoping for.”
“I hope so because I don’t think I can call him ‘daddy’…”
“He never asked you to either – did he?”
“No.”
“Then focus on being happy and don’t worry about things like that when it’s not even a problem. If you are happy calling him Keith – and Keith is happy with it, then that is all that matters, right?”
“Are you sure?”
“Honey, I’m positive. There are all sorts of names in this world and they fit all sorts of people differently. Can you imagine calling me Janet when Constance is my name?”
“No,” her daughter chuckled. “But you’re Mom to me – not Constance.”
“And I’m Mama to Kayla,” she paused tenderly, smiling. “I could be called Momma, Mommy, Mother, Mamacita, and so many other terms – but Mom is the one you address me because you are comfortable with it, and it’s a title given to me with love.”
“But I don’t love Keith,” Paige whispered in a hushed voice. “That’s weird stuff adults do.”
“Then maybe someday you’ll have a title for him that feels comfortable for the both of you – and until then – Keith works because it’s his name.”
“You have a weird way of explaining stuff,” her daughter chuckled, hugging her tightly. “But it works.”
“That’s all that matters,” Constance said tenderly. “I love you, pumpkin. Now, get ready for bed. It’s been a long day, and we have too much to look at tomorrow exploring our new home, the yard, and maybe we’ll go look at the town.”
“Or get a cat.”
“We’ll see…”
“But Keith said…”
“Then we’ll talk to Keith and make a family decision. Now, bedtime,” she urged again softly, smoothing back her hair tenderly. “Love you.”
“Love you too – and can you tell Keith I said ‘good night’?”
“Will do.”
Tucking her daughter in, Constance stepped into the hallway and looked around with wide-eyed fascination. This place was gorgeous with sweeping ceilings, large windows, warm recessed lights everywhere, and as she continued down the hallway to take a peek at their room – she paused in the doorway, stunned.
There was a game room.
Keith had put a game room in the house for them to use as a family. There were shelves that had several boxes of games waiting, a cork panel along the wall with a dartboard that made her roll her eyes – not very safe – and a shuffleboard table, plus two video game cabinets in the corner. A large toybox sat nearby with a few things inside, such as a ball, a plastic bat, and two Raggedy Ann dolls.
He was extremely sweet to the children, and she couldn’t be more touched by the volume of patience he’d shown to the kids – or how much he was trying.
The man was truly trying.
As she turned to check the other door, it was a bathroom done in various shades of pink for the two girls, and beside it an empty bedroom. She spotted another door in the distance and paused.
It wasn’t the garage. The sign said ‘ Now Playing ’ and looked like a marquis. Smiling, she took a peek in the doorway and saw ambient lights turn on immediately in the stairwell, revealing a dark paint job that would truly make it feel like a theater room.
Shutting the door silently, she turned and nearly collided with Keith.
“Sorry,” he said softly. “I was going to ask if you wanted some tea, coffee, water, or a glass of wine.”
“Red wine, if we have it.”
“I bought both, just in case,” he smiled easily. “Red wine it is. Look around and make yourself at home.”
“Where’s our… our room?” she paused, watching him carefully as he pointed to the other end of the house.
“The master suite is over there – and I think you’ll like it.”
“Oh?”
“Go look,” he chuckled, shaking his head and peered at her. “The photos online didn’t do this place justice.”
“Well, they sure weren’t accurate,” she retorted, remembering that phone call about the sink being missing – only to see a secretive smile on his face.
“No, they weren’t in the slightest,” he said softly and immediately she knew something was up. Holding his gaze, she walked pointedly toward the other end of the house, not breaking eye contact as he simply smirked and waved her off, moving into the open kitchen and pulling out two glasses from the cabinet.
The moment he was out of sight, Constance really began to look around. There was a door for a hot water heater, another that had the furnace inside, yet another that was a small empty room that could be used for an office or a nursery and finally, she opened the master bedroom – and sighed.
It looked like something out of a spa.
Pale ivory, green, and gray colors made it feel serene, and she noticed the small faint swirls on the tray ceiling, giving it a regal touch. There was a set of doors in the distance beside an alcove that had the light on and waiting. Stepping farther into the room, she stopped. Her hand drifted up to cover her mouth as her eyes climbed upward, stunned.
The alcove was a library in the shape of a castle turret. Rows and rows of deep polished wood encircled the walls as it carried upward to a small chandelier that glowed about five feet above her head. Stepping inside the alcove, she saw the ladder rolled to the side, and the tracks inlaid in the flooring to keep from scratching it – and stared. It had to be almost fifteen feet high, with one small circular window at the top.
“Do you know how many twist ties I removed last weekend unpacking all those toys?” Keith’s voice said gently behind her, and Constance turned, laughing, to look at his wry smile. “I don’t know how people do it. In my opinion, which amounts to a hill of beans, twist ties should be outlawed.”
“They really should,” she smiled, waving a hand as if to gesture or point at everything. “This is more than I ever imagined… and incredible.”
“Well, it just didn’t feel right dragging you across the country with the kids to some dump or fixer-upper,” he chuckled, handing her a glass of wine – which she accepted gratefully. She was exhausted, nervous, and a little overwhelmed.
“Did you see the deck?”
“No,” she scoffed in disbelief, looking at him in surprise. “I kind of fell in love with this alcove. You know it’s going to be filled with books in no time.”
“I hope so,” he smiled easily. “Books, trinkets, things that make you happy or feel at home.”
“I can’t believe this…” she admitted, her voice stunned and wavering slightly because this all felt like a dream. To go from a small two-bedroom apartment in a not-so-great part of town to this massive home, knowing she was being encouraged and welcomed to stay home with the children to take care of them, and his promises to provide just seemed like a far-off fantasy because it had been ripped from her before, and that made her pause. “Am I on the house deed?”
“Oh shoot,” Keith exclaimed softly – and her heart sank. He shut the door he was opening nearby and moved to the dresser quickly, yanking open the top drawer. He withdrew a manila folder, and she sucked in her breath as he looked at her. “Do you have a pen?”
“You’re kidding…”
“What? It’s our house but I told them that I would be late in filing the deed because I needed your signature.”
“You did?” she whispered, stunned and felt like she could cry.
He was setting her up and making sure she had a roof over her head if something should happen – which was something that she and Robert had never done. They never thought about the future, but Keith seemed to think differently, always worried, always wondering, always planning.
“Yeah, Constance,” he began nervously, waving her over. “I shoved all this junk in here because I didn’t want it to look messy when you saw the place, but there’s a lot of paperwork in this drawer. Checks are arriving at the house next week. Here’s your debit card, there are accounts for Paige and Kayla, and…”
“Stop,” she whispered, staring at him – and his nervous gaze met hers as he slowly turned to look at her.
“Did I forget something or do something wrong?”
“It’s perfect,” she admitted, wiping her eyes and looking at him. “I just don’t have a pen, and I’m so tired that none of this will stick in my head. I feel like Cinderella and keep expecting the clock to strike twelve.”
And Keith hung his head, letting out a soft curse as he chuckled.
“What?”
He looked up at her, his eyes touching hers.
“I forgot to buy a wall clock for the house. I’ve been using the one on the microwave…” and a small warm smile touched his lips as she stared at him in awareness, feeling something blossom in her chest, tender and real, as they both laughed nervously. “It’s a lot to take in – and overwhelming. I was freaking out when I saw how much stuff was removed.”
“I could tell when you called.”
“That was the mild version,” he grimaced. “I yelled at our realtor – and sent him a massive gift basket as an apology.”
“It’s stressful moving.”
“You can say that again.”
They both stood there, looking at each other, before he looked away, nodding. He set the folder down on the dresser and then took her hand, pulling her forward.
“We’ve got our own private deck over here,” he began and smiled at her. “Maybe we can have coffee together sometime, but we’ll need to get some chairs…”
“This is so beautiful, Keith.”
“I hope you are happy here, Constance,” he said softly, hesitating. “I know we’ve done things in a strange, unexpected order, but it’s because I wanted to make a grand first impression on someone who knocks my socks off.”
And she laughed softly, shaking her head.
“I’m nobody.”
“Not to me. I want us to be friends,” he whispered – and her eyes met his. She could see the fear in his eyes, the worry, and a part of her wanted to wipe it all away, to show him how much she appreciated him, how much she wanted things to work out in their budding relationship, and she put her wine on the railing of the deck.
“Kiss me,” she said, taking a step toward him – only to see him take a step back and look away.
“No,” he uttered in a raw, hoarse voice, almost like he was frightened or ashamed of something – and she was shocked. They were finally together, and he was pushing her away again?
She was so confused.
“I picked you up a few things, and they are in the bathroom,” he began, drawing in his breath, but his voice warbled slightly as he continued to stare off into the darkness. “It should be enough for you to get ready for bed until you get your things unpacked. I’m sure the kids will be up early, and there is still a lot to explore – oh – and we’re meeting the team tomorrow afternoon at an event for the families, so the kids can make some friends.”
“I see,” she replied, feeling a wave of embarrassment and rejection wash over her again. “Thank you.”
“I’ll make this right for you – I promise,” he said but she had no words.
T wenty minutes later, Constance lay on her side, opposite Keith, on the large bed, listening to the silence. She could hear his uneven breathing and knew he was awake, facing away from her and about as far as a human could be on the opposite side. Neither spoke, they sure didn’t touch, no snuggling or even a kiss good night.
Nothing.
This was so far from anything she had hoped for or expected – and she had no idea what sort of mental torture was going to come next. Having her husband reject her twice on what should have been a bonding moment just seemed so… terrible. Was it her? Was there someone else, and he didn’t tell her? Was he so determined for ‘perfection’ that he wasn’t willing to try? It wasn’t like she was expecting love or some mind-blowing frolicking between them… but this?
This was certainly not what she anticipated.
Ever.
“Good night,” he whispered in the darkness – and she just closed her eyes, fighting back the tears, and praying the wine, combined with her exhaustion, could make her sleep over her racing thoughts. It was going to be a long night if it didn’t work.
“Good night.”