CHAPTER SIXTEEN

LYNNE

“Joshua, buddy, slow down. I can’t understand what you’re trying to say,” I encourage around a subdued laugh. Burrowing further into Tyson’s side, I rest my head on his shoulder to hide the big smile etching its way across my face. Joshua is trying so hard to tell me something, but the excitement inside of him is causing his words to jumble altogether. It’s the most adorable thing I’ve seen.

Another two days have gone by with no word from the state, no unwanted visitors. I’m losing my mind over this.

“We’re listening, buddy,” Tyson tosses in. I peer up at him. He’s so content, laid-back when it comes to these boys that it irritates the heck out of me. How the heck he can keep a straight face right now is beyond me. So annoying.

He’s completely infatuated with these kids. I knew he would be. You can’t help but fall for them. They are everything. A bright light, an answer to prayers. Lately, though, I’ve been keeping my guard up. Doing all I can to safeguard my heart, just in case Jacob and Joshua are pulled away from me without a choice from any of us. I’m way over my head, my heart is committed to this, and my gut is telling me something terribly unexpected is about to happen.

I sit up, lay my hand across Tyson’s knee, and give Joshua my undivided attention.

Joshua huffs out a breath, rolls his eyes, and places his cute little face right up to the screen. Gosh, I want to lean in like a blubbering fool and pull him into my arms. Jacob too. If only I could. I miss seeing them in person so much.

“You need to listen to me, Lynne,” he speaks in a growly little voice. “It’s called ‘Milk for Moms.’ Will you come with us?” Oh, my freaking God.

“Really? When is it?” I may have stuttered those words out from the wish galloping through me right now. I want to tell him yes right away. The world suddenly skids to a halt, allowing the word ‘mom’ to catch up. The emotions inside of me are running wild and crazy. I would love nothing more than to do this with them.

The laughter fades away, the tears of joy want to express themselves, and I find myself sinking back into my couch, leaving a little boy waiting for his answer.

“Mrs. Stedman gave us the papers in school. She said it was next month.” Jacob appears on the screen holding two pieces of paper in his hand. He places them up for me to see, and my world fades away. It scrambles around, balancing itself in order for me to think like a normal human instead of someone who has been given a shock to her system.

“She would love to go, guys, what’s the other paper for?” Tyson lifts the laptop off the table and places it on his lap.

I’m flabbergasted. Partially numb and angry. They want me to go with them to this event at their school? Mom. That word is doing somersaults inside of my heart. It’s singing for joy and fist-pumping in the air. The thing is, and there always seems to be a thing, a factor, or a big problem of a certain someone in my way of making this an actuality for me. Right now, that damn factor is the state. There has to be a way to bend the law without necessarily breaking it. When will this end?

“Heck, yeah, I’ll go. We’ll work it all out with Mrs. Hill. Talk to you guys tomorrow.”

He’ll what? My anger erupts. “You’ll go where?” I probe. My own frustration is punching me in the gut.

“Dairy with Dads” He closes the laptop, tosses it on the other side of the couch, and reaches for me.

“No.” I jerk out of his grasp. Push off of the couch and glare at him. “You shouldn’t have told them you would go. We can’t promise them that. They might not even be here in a month. We don’t know what’s going to happen and you can’t go around promising them things that may not come true.”

“I can do whatever the hell I want. There isn’t anyone going to tell me I can’t go with them. No one, Lynne.” Oh, God. Now he’s angry, too. Good. I’m not ignoring how much hearing him say that means to me. My heart is swimming in a pool full of bliss over it. It’s just…we have to be careful, and he knows this.

“Tyson, what is wrong with you?” I snap. The second those words are out of my mouth, I wish I could shove them back and choke on them. Except I can’t. The more I think about it, I shouldn’t have to, and I’m not apologizing for them, either. “You’ve been distant all day. There’s something bothering you other than this, and I want to know what it is.”

He has been. I know him too well. Tyson and I have spent every free moment together these past few weeks. We’ve talked for hours. We’ve made love daily, nightly. Sometimes several times a day. We cannot get enough of each other.

At first, I thought it might have something to do with his job. He doesn’t tell me much about it because he can’t. I understand all too well the confidentiality he has to keep. I’m not allowed to tell him certain things, either. But this, whatever it is that’s bothering him, has nothing to do with his job. It has to do with me. With this case. And I’m going out of my mind trying to figure it out.

“Lynne, come here.”

“No. I’m not giving in to your bossiness this time, Tyson. It’s been two weeks and not a word from the state. My family has quit calling the office. They haven’t unexpectedly stopped by, and I know my father better than anyone. They’ve contacted him by now; I know they have.” Oh, God. I have too much going on in my head again. I’m drowning in it, and I can’t take it anymore.

Since we started this process, I’ve been waiting for the shoe not only to drop; I’ve been waiting for the damn thing to start beating me in the head. I’m worried, frustrated, and angry, eager. Most of all, I’m afraid my father really hates me that much that he’ll do whatever it takes to knock me down until I can’t get up.

Silence from a man like my father is more harming to me that his constant meddling in my life. It’s scaring the shit out of me.

“You need to calm the hell down. I’m on your side, baby. Not his. Yours, the boys’. Taking your aggravation out on me is only going to lead to us fighting, and I refuse to let that happen. Is that what you want? To argue, lash out at me? If it is, then you can have at it with the four walls in this house, because I’m not going to be a part of it.” He shoves off the couch, grabs his bottle of water, and storms out the door. I stand there with my mouth hanging open, wondering what in the hell just happened. How did we go from our usual conversation with the kids to engaging in a battle on opposite sides?

“Hello.” I close my mouth up and turn my head to see Maggie, Vivian, and Cora at my door. Even though I love them all dearly, the idea of having company right now is low on my feel-sorry-for-myself scale.

“What are you three up to?” I ask, putting on my usual mask of normalcy. These no-bullshit ladies see through it every damn time, though. Each one of them calls me out when I sink back into myself. I love them. My sisters. My family.

I push the screen door open for them to enter and stand there staring blankly at the screen when it closes behind them. Wishing Tyson would come back. And then it all hits me at once. The gloominess is gone. The sky a bright blue. Tyson put this screen door on; he put one on each of the French doors, so the breeze would flow through the house. He’s done so much in such a short period of time. Not only to this house but for me. He’s been by my side; he’s called the state. Went above and beyond to try and push things ahead for me, and I just dumped it all over his head as if none of it mattered.

“Hey, what’s going on, honey?” Maggie asks, amusement dancing in her eyes. It’s not funny. If I hadn’t somehow found my strength through all of this, I would break down and cry right now. I have found it. It’s such a fulfillment. I’ve learned to love myself, forgive and shove it all behind me. Just like Tyson suggested I do. And even though it was me making up my own mind to do it, he gave me that push I needed to shove me in the direction I desperately needed to go.

“I think we had our first fight,” I mutter.

“I see. And what? You’re standing here blaming yourself?” I circle around to face them all. Of course, Vivian would be the one with her hip jutted out, her eyes rolling after her little ball of information. Cora looks a tad bit sympathetic, and Maggie is now smirking.

“Well, yeah. It was me who started it.” I shrug, narrow my eyes at Vivian. She’s far from done with expressing herself. This woman is a handful for me to keep up with. Even though she’s partially right. I shouldn’t blame myself. It takes two to argue. It only takes one to admit they were wrong. To end it and move on. Not sure if that makes sense, but I’m going with it.

“So what? Make it you who finishes it. Give him time to cool off and then apologize. Tell him you love him and then fuck his brains out. Works for me every time.” My thoughts exactly, Vivian, as soon as I figure out a way to apologize.

“Vivian. Not everyone is like you. We don’t know what they argued about.” Cora understands my past more than anyone. We have talked, and as a result of our many talks, she has become extremely dear to me. I fit in with all of them, really. We shop, we get pedicures, and we laugh, drink, and enjoy each other’s company so much that my family really ceases to exist. Except they don’t. They are all waiting with pitchforks and shovels in their bloody little hands, just holding up on the edge of the hole to bury me. I know they are.

“Whatever, Cora. Look, Lynne. It is none of our business what you argued about. I’m not suggesting you tell us. What I should have said is, everyone argues. It’s healthy. At least I think it is. Arguing means there is communication. It shows you both have your opinions. Don’t fault yourself for that. If you feel it was your fault, then tell him that. Ask him to forgive you and move on.”

“Wow. If you ever lose your job at the hospital, you can come work for me.” I smile jokingly.

“Maybe I will. Seriously, though. You’ll find it makes the bond the two of you have stronger.”

“Things will work out, Lynne. You two have come back to one another. Fights are going to happen. Here, this should make you happy.” Maggie pulls a small little box out of her beach bag. It’s wrapped in the prettiest shade of pink paper with a tiny little white bow on top. It reminds me of the pink box that I stored my engagement ring from Tyson in. I have it in a box under my bed. The blanket, my ring, and pictures of the two of us were the only things I took with me when I left for my surgery and chemotherapy. Tyson didn’t have much money to buy me things. Not that I complained. Our love is true, and to me, that means more than anything money can buy.

“You didn’t have to buy me anything. Your friendship is all I need,” I say excitedly.

“We didn’t buy it. Well, that’s partially true. Maggie made it. Vivian, our mom, and I added to it. Open it. I think it will make you feel better. Give you the courage to go make up with your man.” Cora lifts her brows. I smile, tentative at first. My head is reeling with the possibilities of what could possibly be inside. I slide the bow off, lift up the lid, and gasp.

“This is… it’s perfect.” I hold up the silver bracelet similar to another one Maggie gave me for my birthday shortly after we met. She makes them. How she does it I will never know. It’s her special design, she calls it. A hidden talent. The one she gave me has a little seashell dangling where this one has two hearts soldered together.

“Read them,” Cora pushes, the three of them circling around me. I squint my eyes, let out a noise somewhere between a cry and an all-out sob when I read the word ‘family’ on both sides. I flip them over, revealing ‘sister’ on one and ‘daughter’ on the other. I don’t know what to say. All my words are lost to me now. The last time I received a gift that meant so much to me was the engagement ring from Tyson. Blood doesn’t mean family. And it sure as hell might be thicker than water but it thins out the minute it leaves our veins.

“No tears, damn it. You’ve cried enough. Here.” Maggie takes the bracelet, outstretches my hand, and guides it up to settle comfortably right next to the other.

“Thank you,” I acknowledge, finally finding my voice.

These women get me. They find me at my weakest and literally smack me over the head with kindness. I felt so alone before they all came into my life and now I feel stronger. Like I could do anything I set my heart on. I’ve always considered myself to be a weak woman when the truth is, I’ve never been. I’m strong. Worth so much more than I’ve believed I deserved.

“You’re welcome. We mean this. You are part of the family. No matter what, Lynne. Always remember that.”

***

“I’m sorry, Tyson. It wasn’t fair of me to take my emotions out on you.” I sit down next to him on the beach. The water is lapping inches away from our toes.

“We’re going to argue, Lynne. Hell, you’ll probably want to punch me most of the time. This is us getting to know each other again. It’s me and you figuring out how to make a life for ourselves. It’s us finally being happy. To wash away a tainted past that we both thought would eventually be the death of us. This is all getting to me, too. I’m not mad at you. It’s this whole fucked-up situation that has me pissed off. We all handle our shit differently. You’ve been through so much of it. It’s my right to protect you from not dealing with any more. I do have something to share with you. It’s been eating away at me for two days.”

My heart is not a fan of the torment behind his eyes. I gulp, fear rioting with pain over which one is going to win out when he reveals what’s obvious to see is killing him.

I link out hands together. Prepared to protect him in the same way he does me. Love brings that out in a person. It shields, it defends. Even though my insides are quivering and the notion I had earlier of something brewing on the horizon is hanging on the words he has yet to speak, I can handle it. For there is nothing in this world I won’t do to save our souls from drifting apart again.