Chapter 32 Everly
EVERLY
The following weeks pass with daily hikes, a couple of kayaking trips, and Grey drafting plans to build a play structure for Sonny, teaching him to swim, and the two of them puttering around the garden.
That kid loves blueberries and I love him and his father.
We spend Sundays on the mainland and visiting Grey’s mom. He says that she adores me, and maybe that does have something to do with my deluxe double-chip cookie recipe.
As days go by, it’s hard not to look at the horizon. Will I spend the football season in Concordia? Michigan? In hotels, traversing the country with Grey and the rest of the team?
Every morning, he leaves me a word puzzle, but in Norwegian. He’s helping me learn some basic words, including practical and romantical ones alike. Every night, we read to Sonny, one book in English and the same one in Norwegian.
I’ve also perfected my pronunciation of jeg elsker deg ogs?. I love you too.
As Grey, Sonny, and I get to know each other and form relationships—husband and wife, father and son, mother and son, it’s interesting to think about how we all got a chance to start over.
With each passing day, although Grey and I are officially married, it’s like we’re in the early stages of dating.
It makes me a little nervous and a lot excited.
One cloudy afternoon, we spend in the game room playing billiards, watching movies, and occupying the coolest pillow fort ever. Sonny and I make sugar cookies that we shape to look like two-bite blueberries, using juice from the latest collection to color them.
My mind skips and hops from family traditions like Easter and egg dying, Fourth of July cookouts, the first days of school, and Christmas.
Interrupting my daydreaming while I clean up our cookie-mixing mess, Grey comes in from splitting wood, shirtless and smelling like him.
“I was going to jump in the lake, but it started drizzling. Glad for it, too, because it smells like sugar cookie sunshine in here.” He peeks in the oven and then kisses me on the head while I pass him a tall glass of water.
Grey sits on the floor for a few minutes with Sonny while he plays with his toy cars.
When the oven timer dings, Grey peeks out the window. “Still raining.”
“I was hoping for sunshine today. A dip in the lake sounds good.”
“You’re as bright and sweet as can be. Where do you get your endurance? Your sunshine on cloudy days? You’ve been through so much.”
My shoulders bounce because I’m not entirely sure, and when I speak, my answer is almost in the form of a question.
“Grace. The desire to do the right thing. To give. The diagnosis put things in perspective. I could’ve let the distress and fear consume me.
Some nights when I was alone and waiting for test results, it did.
But the sun came up the next morning. I carried on.
” I glance at Sonny. “Plus, this life isn’t only about me, me, me.
It’s about you, us, neighbors, well, if we had any.
Friends. Family. Strangers on the street who need a smile and a kind word. ”
My phone beeps, interrupting my stream of thought.
Likely, it’s Todd, so I ignore it. He mentioned settling some debt recently, and all I have is a little bit of money left from my Blancbourg paychecks.
He can’t get blood from a stone. Then again, he has enough money to never work another day in his life.
No, this is about power, control, and my connection to my father.
Grey nods in response to my answer. “And maybe cookies too, because if so, I’m going to form a new habit.”
“A cookie habit?” I ask, playfully.
“That and a you habit. I was thinking, I haven’t been on a proper vacation in years and even though technically the cabin is home, I feel more relaxed than I have in a long time. I think you’re wearing off on me, Everly.”
“That’s better than wearing you out.” Because that’s about where I am with Todd. My stomach knots when my phone beeps again. I should just block him, but then I’d have to hire a lawyer to do the communicating and although he might be able to afford the hourly rate, I cannot.
All the same, I power down my phone and leave it off for the night. Slowly, the knots inside untangle, easy enough with my thankful three: Grey, Sonny, and cookies. At last, I relax while Grey and I play cards by candlelight.
And fine, I admit it. We make out too.
The next morning, I wake to fresh flowers, a word puzzle I solve before getting out of bed, quickly recognizing the words for car, truck, and blueberry—Sonny’s favorites as well as learning some new ones: cookie, dough, and hug.
When I get downstairs, I kiss Grey on the cheek and nab a piece of bacon from the skillet.
“Good morning, gorgeous,” he says.
“Good morning, handsome,” I reply.
Sonny replies with the same in Norwegian and we all laugh.
“I’m sorry I’m not more of a morning person,” I say.
“What do you mean? You’re not grouchy. Upon waking, the PS ladies would say you’re as pleasant as pie.”
“No, I mean, I’m sorry that I don’t get up earlier. I think it’s because, for the first half of my life, I had to get up well before the sun. Usually, at four a.m. and I’m making up for the lost time.”
“That’s harsh but relatable. I’ve been doing my workouts well before you and Sonny get up. But I can understand why you’d want to sleep in a bit.” Grey glances at the clock. “It’s only eight. This still counts as the morning.”
I wrap my arms around him, not even coming close to clasping my fingers. “I guess I don’t want to miss anything.”
“I don’t mind at all that you get a little extra beauty sleep,” Grey says, pecking me on the cheek when I steal another piece of bacon.
I share it with Sonny and kiss the top of his head.
“Even though Bran was the one who joined the military, Dad drilled an early morning wake-up call into us early on. We were up with the sun, spent time in prayer, and then did a workout. Not much has changed.” A lopsided smile slides onto his face. “Actually, everything has, and I’m here for it.”
“And I’m here for breakfast,” I say, joking. “What do we have on the menu this morning, Chef Adams?”
“Your standard bacon and eggs plus a blackberry, sweet potato, and fresh greens salad.” He sprinkles a bit of granola over the top. “And when I say fresh, I mean it. Sonny and I picked everything twenty minutes ago.”
I wander over to the back window overlooking the garden. “A chef and a farmer. I’m impressed and lucky.”
“Don’t forget football player,” he adds. “I know a salad in the morning is a bit unusual, but I work closely with a nutritionist to keep me in top form. He says protein and greens are the way to go.”
“And blueberries,” Sonny says.
We chuckle and then sit down to eat breakfast.
After a blessing, I take a bite. “No complaints here. This is delicious. What else do you have growing out there?”
Grey and Sonny take turns listing what they have in the garden, including tomatoes, hot peppers, herbs, squash, and of course, blueberries.
A thought has been nagging the back of my mind for days now, but I’ve been trying to remain in the present moment, yet it repeatedly tries to find a way out. “How do you take care of it when you’re not here?”
“Mrs. Hancook’s daughter and her family come out a couple of times a week and tend to things. But I hope that when I retire, I can do it myself, expand it to include corn, potatoes, and even pumpkins.” Grey leans back in the chair, cradling his head in his hands as if envisioning the future.
And there it is...my question and thought and fear and doubt all rolled into one.
“You’ll just putter around in the garden and—?”
“And cook,” he says, sitting up.
“I have to admit, I really love this hidden talent of yours, but it surprises me.”
“Because I’m a big, grunty, football player?”
“You haven’t grunted in days.”
Wearing a lopsided grin, he says, “I like to garden and cook. You like to draw and ice skate. Any other secret talents?”
“I’ll tell you what I don’t know how to do—keep anything green and growing in dirt alive...or cook, though I’m not bad at baking.”
“We make a good team.”
“I agree, but I hardly know how to boil water.”
“How do you eat? What do you eat? When I’m not cooking, that is.”
“If it weren’t for the freezer section at the grocery store, microwave, and takeout, I’d starve to death.”
He taps the air. “Don’t forget the cookie dough.”
“Never.”
“I’m very happy to spend the rest of our lives cooking for you, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t pass along some of my skills. Plus, Sonny is a great helper. We’ll start cooking lessons this afternoon. But first, we have to go scout a spot for the new swing set.”
The three of us roam the property where Grey identifies wild plants, names trees, and points out animals and birds, including a falcon, which he said is relatively rare to see.
Later, while Sonny “reads” to himself from a board book, Grey makes good on his promise to teach me how to cook. He opens the pantry closet and gets out an apron. “Here, put this on.”
I bump him with my hip. “Only if you wear one.”
His lips quirk. “This one?” It says, Kiss the cook. He pulls it over his head and then pushes up his sleeves, exposing his forearms.
I fan my eyeballs.
Is it hot in here? The oven isn’t even on yet.
Who knew forearms could be so attractive? They’re strong and tan and make me feel secure. Like he can handle heavy things, including the burden of my past.
“Bran got it as a gag gift for Christmas one year. We had a tradition where we had to get each other one funny item.”
“I bet there was a lot of laughter in your house.”
Sonny starts giggling and then snorts.
We both turn to face him. Something blueish purple rockets out of his nose and bonks me on the head.
My eyes widen and Grey rushes over as we both realize what it was at the same time.
“Don’t put blueberries in your nose,” he says, reverting to Norwegian in his panic. At least I think that’s what he says because I recognize the words blueberries and nose.
Sonny’s little face crumbles and Grey hugs him, explaining why that’s dangerous.
We have a family hug and then spend the rest of the afternoon preparing a delicious dinner.
My heart trips at the sight of the football player and former single father doing domestic things, thoughtful things, and delicate things with his big hands. Hands that find their way to me while Sonny watches Biler og Lastebiler and we clean up.
A piece of my hair comes loose from my scrunchie and I repeatedly try to blow it out of the way since my hands are wet. Grey tucks it behind my ear and then kisses me on the cheek. He wraps his arms around from behind.
“That piece just doesn’t want to grow,” I say absently.
“Was your hair shorter before?” Grey asks. “I can’t picture that, or did it have something to do with your treatment?”
I turn around and his look is so tender, it soothes my heart.
I meet his crystal-clear grey eyes and take a deep breath.
“Marriage Club rule number one. We always tell each other the truth. It used to be a lot shorter. But before that, it was a lot longer. Down my back.” I use the edge of my hand to demonstrate.
“Todd and I were at a birthday party for someone I worked with. A guy there started flirting with me. I informed him that I was engaged. Todd must have witnessed it because the next day, when I met him at his house after visiting the gym, he cut it off.” My voice shakes.
“Todd cut off your hair?”
“It was in a ponytail and he just cut it. He said that he didn’t want other men to look at it, admire it, or want me for it.”
Grey scowls and pulls me into a protective hug. “That guy was slime.”
“There were red flags. I should’ve gotten out sooner.
Never should have accepted his proposal in the first place.
Looking back, this is super embarrassing to admit, but I just wanted to do something that would make my father happy.
I figured Todd got tense and acted that way because of work stress.
I made a mistake trying to see the best in him. ”
Grey listens and holds me close, letting me pour my sadness and anger into him.
His tone is almost a growl when he says, “It wasn’t your fault, Everly. And I won’t ever let him hurt you again.”
Todd is a dull memory from that night in Concordia, but I trust that Grey will keep that promise no matter what.
But he should also know that Todd has been texting me again, though it’s not an official Marriage Club rule, and given Grey’s tendency to Hulk out, I’m hesitant to tell him.