Chapter Twenty-Five
Patience
“Kyle and Kennedy, you two go wash your hands for dinner,” I stated, standing at the doorway of the children’s playroom. “Hey, you two, you hear me?” I questioned with a little more force in my voice when neither one of them moved from the children’s table that sat in the center of the room.
I walked over to the table, and wasn’t surprised to find Kennedy with her head in a book. She, like myself, could become so completely absorbed in a book that the people around us disappeared.
“Ken,” I brushed a hand over her shoulder, “go wash your hands for dinner,” I said again, pulling the book from her hands.
“Kyle, you–” I stopped when I realized that he was just as intent on what he’d been doing at the table as Kennedy had been. However, instead of reading, he was actually writing. “What are you making?” I questioned, stooping low next to Kyle.
He looked up at me with the biggest smile on his face. “I’m making Daddy a card for his birthday!” His hazel eyes shone bright with excitement, the type that only occurs when you get to be the one to do something special for your real life superhero.
I wrinkled my brows. “Kyle, it’s not…” I trailed off, trying to remember today’s date in my head.
“November thirteenth,” Kyle and I said together.
I squeezed my eyes tightly, slapping my hand against my forehead. “I’m an idiot!” I gritted out.
“Don’t say that, Mommy! It’s not nice.”
I blinked my eyes open to see a frowning Kennedy standing over me.
I grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry, baby. You’re right. I shouldn’t have called myself that. Mommy just made a mistake.”
“I make mistakes during my studies, too, but Daddy says everyone makes mistakes and that as long as I learn from them, it’s okay,” Kyle informed me.
I tweaked his nose. “Your daddy’s a smart man.”
Kyle nodded in agreement. “That’s why I’m making him the bestest birthday card ever! You like it, Mommy?” He held up the colorful card he’d designed by himself. My heart melted at the sight of the first card my son had ever made. He’d hated writing anything that wasn’t completely pictures.
I went to stand, but something made me stop. “Kyle, how did you know November thirteenth was Daddy’s birthday?” I knew Aaron hadn’t told him.
Kyle shrugged with one shoulder. “A lady told me,” he answered, casually.
“What lady? Your teacher?”
He shook his head. “No. She’s invisible. Only I can see her.”
“Ky–”
“Mooommy, I’m hungry!” Kennedy began whining before I could question her brother any further. I stood, still staring at Kyle finishing up his birthday card.
“Okay, sweetie, give me a minute,” I told Kennedy, who was tugging my hand.
I went to my room to grab my cell phone. I needed to leave the house, but also had to find a sitter for the children. Carter and Michelle were at her mother’s for the evening. Aaron’s parents were out of town, as was Joshua. That left me with only one person left to call.
“Hey, Ty.”
“Patience? What’s up?” my youngest brother-in-law asked.
“Listen, I need you to babysit for a few hours.”
“Woohoo!” I heard his clap through the phone. “’Bout time that brother of mine got off his high horse about me watching the kids.”
“Aaron’s not exactly here right now,” I explained, while bringing the children’s plates to the table.
“Where is he?”
“Out.”
“Out?”
“It’s November thirteenth.”
“Shit!” he cursed. “No wonder Father took Mother on that unexpected trip. She always smothers him on his birthday.”
I bit my lower lip. “Can you be here in fifteen minutes?”
“I’ll be there in ten,” he agreed.
I hung up and impatiently waited for Tyler to arrive. Once he did, I grabbed my bag, the card Kyle made, gave the children each a kiss, and was out the door. I started for my Honda CR-V that I’d had shipped from Oakland—the car I rarely got to drive these days—but was stopped.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, I can’t let you do that.”
I turned to see Daniel staring down at me. “Do what?”
“I’m under strict instructions from Mr. Townsend to take you anywhere you want to go.”
I sighed. “Daniel, this is my car. I don’t need you to–”
He shook his head. “I’m sorry. Boss’ orders.”
“Fine,” I conceded, not wanting to waste any more time arguing. I still couldn’t believe I’d spent the entire day angry at Aaron, forgetting that this was the one day of the year he needed the most support. Even though, he might not realize it. He always was isolated on his birthday. Well, he wasn’t about to do that shit anymore. Like it or not, he had a family now. One that wouldn’t let him run away from his past.
****
It took twenty minutes to get from the house to Townsend Industries. I knew this was where he’d be, working himself to the bone to push out any and all memories. I had Daniel drop me off at the front entrance of the building. Unfortunately, it was close to eight o’clock and the front of the building was locked. I opted to walk to the end of the block where I could enter the building from the garage.
As I rounded the building and made my way into the concrete garage, I saw that most of the spaces were empty. Everyone had obviously gone home for the evening, and the few cars that remained belonged to owners of nearby condos. I walked to the far end of the garage where the elevator stood; my heels against the cement were the only sound that could be heard. Suddenly, my hear rate quickened and an ugly, familiar feeling skittered down my spine. I clutched the bag I carried over my shoulder tighter to my side, and looked around. Again, all I saw were a few cars but nothing out of the ordinary. But that nagging feeling of being watched returned. The same eerie sensation I’d had in that bathroom stall in the park a month earlier returned.
I stopped walking, doing a full three-sixty turn to observe my surroundings. “Hello?” I called out.
“Mrs. Townsend?”
“Ahh!” I screamed. Before I could fumble for my keys that held my pepper spray on the chain, I realized who had called my name. “James!” I breathed, holding my hand to my chest, trying to catch my breath.
“I’m sorry, ma’am. Didn’t mean to frighten you. I was doing my rounds,” the security guard explained.
“No, don’t be sorry. I’m here to see my husband.”
James nodded and walked with me to the elevator, punching in the code that took me directly to the floor of Aaron’s office. Once the doors closed, I inhaled deeply, shaking off that creepy feeling, and forced myself to remember I was safe. The day wasn’t about me. I needed to focus on Aaron.
When the elevator doors opened, I stepped out into the empty lobby. The lights were low but I could see light coming from farther down the hall where Aaron’s office was located. I pushed through the glass doors and walked steadily in the direction of the light. His door was partially ajar, and I pushed my way in.
His head turned in my direction and my heart dropped to my knees. His eyes were dark, but not like when we were intimate, or when he was angry. They were darkened by the memories he’d been trying to fight off.
I chose to leave the lights low. His scowl deepened the closer I moved to his desk. I placed my bag next to his desk on the floor and moved files and papers aside. I pushed up on my arms, planting my bottom on his desk, next to him in his office chair. He sat back, staring at me, wordlessly. Leaning forward, I reached out and ran my fingers through his dark, silky hair.
“Poor you,” I cooed, “you’ve been fighting demons all day.”
****
Aaron
My eyes drifted shut and for the first time that day the memories hadn’t come rushing back. All I felt at that instant was my wife’s hand stroking my hair. I had indeed been fighting demons all day. It was what I did on my birthday. I fought them, alone. Pushing through and using work as a distraction.
“I was so pissed at you this morning. Not for leaving me hanging but for Kyle.”
My eyes sprang open at the mention of Kyle’s name. I knew I was a coward for leaving so early that morning but I had to. I was in no shape to be around my family. A part of me wanted to tell Patience to go back home, to insist on it, but with her hand continuing to stroke my hair, relieving the ache in my soul with each pass, I couldn’t.
“You don’t have to do this alone, you know.”
Finally, I reached for her wrist, halting her actions. “I do. I won’t dump my bullshit on my family.”
She shook her head. “It’s not dumping for a husband to confide in his wife.”
I gritted my teeth, anger suddenly rising in my chest. “You didn’t want to be my wife, remember?”
She pulled her wrist free of my hold, eyes wide, mouth opened.
“You said it yourself. I forced you into this marriage. No need to pretend like you wanted it.” I casually reached for the glass of seltzer water I’d been drinking. “Go home, Patience.”
She turned her head away from me, staring out at the window. “I know what you’re trying to do.” She turned back to me. “Same thing you did back then. Push me away when we get too close.”
My jaw tightened.
She eased off my desk and my gaze lingered on the six inch heels she wore that made her legs look phenomenal, even though they were covered by dark stockings. I would’ve preferred them bare. Slowly she removed the long jacket she wore, exposing the form fitting, white dress that stopped inches above her knees. Though the dress had long sleeves, the black lace detailing showed off the tops of her shoulders and arms.
“I know it’s well past Labor Day, so I’m breaking the no wearing white rule, but I figured I could make an exception for my husband on his birthday.”
My stomach muscles tightened.
She wiggled her hips a little, pulling the sides of the dress a little lower. “After all, it is his favorite color on me.”
She was right. Aside from seeing her naked, I loved seeing her walnut skin covered in white fabric. The contradiction in color turned me on.
Patience moved closer, removing the glass from my hand and adjusting my arm to make room for her body as she sat in my lap. The irony is that as soon as I felt her weight against my body, the heaviness I’d been carrying all day began to lift.
She placed a quick kiss to my lips but pulled away too quickly for my liking. I was about to pull her back to my arms when she handed me something.
“This is for you.”
I looked down to see a card. Obviously made by a child.
The left side of my mouth curled upwards. “Kennedy is such a sweet child.” She was always leaving her mother and I letters or bringing them home from school thanking us and telling us how much she loved us.
“She is, but this isn’t from Kennedy. It’s from Kyle.”
My eyes widened and Patience looked at me again, urging me to take the card. I did and read the outside.
“Happy Birthday, Daddy,” I read out loud. I flipped the card open and grinned at the drawings of our entire family. “I love you very much,” I finished reading.
“He transposed the I and the R in birthday, and the O and the V in love, but he’s five.” She shrugged. “And he wrote it all by himself.”
I swallowed, still staring at the card.
“He wouldn’t have done that without his hero.”
I peered up at my wife.
“You’re his hero, Aaron…and mine, and Kennedy’s for that matter.” She leaned in to cup my face. “You don’t get to go through this day or any other day alone. I don’t care how painful it is, how upsetting it is, or how vulnerable it makes you feel. You don’t do it alone. Do you understand me?” She shook my face for good measure.
I hesitated and eventually sighed before nodding. “I do.”
“Good.”
Laying my head against her chest, I listened to the sound of her heartbeat. I drew strength from it. I closed my eyes when she began stroking my hair again.
“Tell me about it.”
My hands tightened around her waist. “I’ve already told you.”
“You told me there was an accident and you were seriously injured, your parents killed, and that it was your birthday. But we both know there’s more to it than that. Tell me.”
I pinched the bridge of my nose, hating the feelings of helplessness that washed over me. This was the very reason I avoided my family on this day. But Patience wasn’t my mother, father, or my brothers. They’d been there during that time. She hadn’t. She deserved to know the full story…as much of it as I was willing to give, at least.
“My eighth birthday …” I began.
****
Then …
“Happy Birthday, Aaron!” Aunt Deborah cheered, as she opened the door for the three of us.
A smile sprouted on my face and I went to respond to my aunt, but my father’s greeting behind me, had me clamping down on my tongue.
“Deborah,” he responded in the way that made me uneasy. “Where is Robert?” he questioned, sounding mean to my young ears.
My aunt blinked. “He’s inside, of course. Come in, Jason, Jesse,” she welcomed my mother, father, and myself, stepping aside and widening the door of Townsend Manor.
My father stepped past my mother, and I looked around. “I see you’ve redecorated.”
“Yes, Robert and I decided it was time for a little bit of a change. The children are getting older,” my aunt stated, smiling down at me. “We wanted a more child friendly environment. Aaron, when you come over to play with your cousins, you’ll all have an entertainment room to yourself, and we’ve fixed up a bedroom, just for you.”
My smile was halted by my father’s next words. “You’ve not only changed my family’s home, you think I can’t take care of my son well enough so you have to give him his own room?”
I lowered my eyes to the floor. I’d become used to such scenes, growing up with my father.
“Jason, I’m sure Deborah didn’t me–” My mother’s explanation fell dead on her lips when my father gave her the deadly glare he always gave when she dared speak up in defiance of him.
I swallowed, knowing what that look meant.
Thankfully, my cousins, Carter and Joshua, came running down the stairs, yelling my name. Carter did a jump off the bottom stair, landing in front of me with his hand raised. We did our special handshake, that was only shared between us two.
“Happy Birthday, man!” he greeted.
“Thanks, man. I got that new game we’ve been wanting. We’ll have to play it sometime,” I told him, but looked back over my shoulder when my father cleared his throat.
“You won’t be bringing anything over here.”
“Jason,” My uncle called from the top of the stairs.
I glanced up to see my Uncle Robert, holding baby Tyler in his arms as he moved down the stairs. Carter and I were only a few months apart. He’d turned eight before me. Joshua was younger, at only three, and Tyler was just barely six months.
“Robert.” My father nodded, at his older brother.
“Happy Birthday, sport.”
“Don’t call him that. Aaron hates sports. He’s nobody’s jock, unlike your children. He will be running Townsend Industries someday,” my father stated with his chin lifted.
Aunt Deborah quickly stepped in, directing us to the dining area where my birthday dinner was being held. Unfortunately, it was uncomfortable from the beginning. None of my birthdays were fun events…none of my days were as long as my father was around. He was always so mean to my Aunt and Uncle, when they were always so nice to me. I never understood it. I hated that as much as I hated the way he treated my mother and I behind closed doors.
Thankfully, the adults let my cousins and I leave the table after dinner so we could play a little bit before we cut my birthday cake. Carter and I raced up the stairs to the new entertainment room.
“Whoa!” I breathed out as soon as he pushed the door open. The room was huge with a movie theater screen along the front wall, a video game console that played any type of game we wanted, and a number of toy chests throughout the room.
“Here, dude. I’ll let you be Goku since it’s your birthday,” Carter stated, handing me one of the controllers.
“Thanks, man.”
We played for a while, both of us getting our turns at winning round after round.
“Aw, man!” Carter shouted, shoving me when he lost the last round. It was meant to be playful but it hurt like hell.
“Ouch!” I squealed, my hand going to my side.
Carter looked at me in confusion. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I lied.
“It was just a playful push. It didn’t hurt that much,” he explained, his eyes looking at the hand that still rested against my rib.
“It’s no big deal, man.”
But Carter was smart. “Lemme see.” He pushed my hand away, lifting my shirt, revealing the large purple and yellow bruise that was a few days old.
“What’s this?”
“Nothing, I fell at school.”
Carter didn’t bother waiting for me to explain. He was already running out of the room yelling for his mom and dad. I chased after him, calling his name, telling him to leave it alone. I didn’t need anymore trouble, but he refused to listen.
“Son, what’s the matter?” Uncle Robert emerged from the living room, looking concerned.
“Look!” Carter shouted, grabbing my arm and lifting my shirt to reveal the bruise to all four adults and my younger cousins. Everyone now stood in the foyer.
My aunt gasped and out of the corner of my eye I saw my mother drop her head.
I snatched my arm out of Carter’s grip, quickly lowering my shirt to cover the bruise, but it was too late.
“You son of a bitch!” Uncle Robert shouted, grabbing my father by his shirt.
Chaos broke out as both men began shouting at one another.
“I should’ve never trusted you!” Robert yelled. “You said it was one time. You’d lost your temper one time. That it’d never happen again!”
Tears sprang to my eyes as I begged and pleaded for my uncle and father to stop fighting.
“And you!” Uncle Robert rounded on my mother. “What kind of mother lets that happen to her son?”
“Robert, stop it!” Aunt Deborah admonished, but he was relentless.
“I’m calling the police!”
“No!” my mother shouted. “Deborah, do something. He didn’t mean it,” she pleaded, lying to cover for my father yet again.
Tears were streaming down my face and my throat hurt from yelling at them both to stop.
“I’m calling the judge in the morning!” Robert insisted. “He will be removed from your custody immediately. Jesse, you want to be used as a punching bag, that’s on you, but I will not allow my nephew to be treated this way by that…that buffoon!”
“Buffoon?” my father shrieked, going after Uncle Robert again.
I watched as my father missed and nearly landed on his face, stumbling into the railing of the staircase instead. He’d been drinking even before we arrived at my Aunt and Uncle’s.
“I always knew you’d end up a failure, but to take your shortcomings out on a defenseless child is sick!” Uncle Robert continued.
“Jason, let’s just go,” my mother insisted, grabbing my father’s arm.
“You can go, but you’re not taking Aaron with you! Deborah, take the children upstairs,” he ordered.
“You’re not taking my goddamn kid!” My father pulled me, none too gently, from my Aunt Deborah’s hand, pushing both my mother and I toward the front door.
“You son of a bi–Bring him back.” Uncle Robert started for us but Aunt Deborah grabbed him.
“Robert, don’t. We’ll only make matters worse tonight.”
“Listen to your wife, Robert!” my father taunted.
“We will be calling that judge in the morning,” my aunt continued, giving my father the same look my uncle was giving him. Her eyes moved to me and I saw the water that filled her blue eyes. “Aaron, we will be there tomorrow to come get you,” she promised.
I swallowed the sadness, fear, and confusion down. I would’ve loved nothing more to go live with my aunt and uncle but I couldn’t leave my mother. I looked to Carter who stood at the middle of the staircase, continuing to watch everything. My eyes narrowed. I hated him for this. It was all his damn fault. He should’ve just listened to me and left it alone!
“You two aren’t taking my son!” my father shouted one last time, as he pushed my mother and I out the door, slamming it shut behind him. He hustled us to his Lexus, forcing my mother inside the passenger seat by her head, and then pushing me in the back. He peeled out of the driveway and sped up even more once we got to the main road.
“Jason, slow down!”
I flinched at the sound of cracking bones as my father punched my mother directly in her face.
“Don’t you ever fucking tell me what to do, bitch!” He punched her again. “How could you just stand there and let him berate me like that!”
He swerved, nearly hitting an oncoming car. He grabbed the steering wheel with both hands.
“They’re not taking my fucking son! Violent? I got his violence. You saw how he charged me. I’ll tell any fucking judge what happened. He’s lucky his kids don’t get fucking taken away!” my father continued ranting.
I dug my fingers into the leather seats, holding on for dear life every time he took a turn. Cars were honking at us left and right as he raced past them.
“Jason, you’re going to get us killed!” my mother yelled. “Please, just, slow down.” She cried and begged.
“Please, Dad!” I yelled, speaking up for the first time. My heart pounded in my chest when I heard the loud sounds of another car horn.
“Fuck that! He wants to take my kid? Over my dead body! I’ll take us all out!”
****
“Those were the last words he ever spoke. Everything went black after that. The next thing I remember was waking up in a hospital bed, Aunt Deborah and Uncle Robert by my side.”
That last part wasn’t the complete truth. I remembered more after that. It was the more that’d continued to leave me bitter and angry at the world around me. It was the rest of what happened that night that taught me, not only was my father a monster, but there were more people out there nearly as bad as him.
“Baby,” Patience whispered, pulling me into her. She cried. I could feel her tears as they coated my neck. When she pulled back, she quickly wiped her eyes before cupping my face.
“Is that why you’re closer to Joshua than Carter even though you two are closer in age?”
Furrowing my brows, I stared up at her. “I guess. We were never really close after that, even though he tried. I was too angry for years. Then he went away to join the military. We grew apart even more.”
“Until now.”
I cocked my head to the side.
“We live right next to him. I know how loyal you are to him, to all your family. You both are married fathers now. Maybe you two can grow closer.”
I shrugged and blew out a breath. “Maybe,” I murmured.
The room grew silent for a few heartbeats.
“He was a sick man,” Patience stated just above a whisper. “Your father,” she said for clarity.
“I know.”
She shook her head. “No. You don’t know. He was sick. So sick, he couldn’t put his own jealousy and bitterness aside for his family. You’re nothing like him.”
I swallowed, my jaw tightening.
She cupped my face. “Look at me.”
I let my eyes linger at the corner of the room for a minute before finally pinning her with my gaze.
“I know why you left so early and stayed away all day. You wanted to protect us from you. From these feelings. But you’re not Jason Townsend. He’s dead and he can’t hurt you anymore, if you don’t let him.”
“H–” I hesitated, pushing out a breath, unfamiliar with the feeling of asking for help. “How do I stop letting him?”
She lowered her head, pressing her lips to mine before moving back. “You build new memories, better memories with us. Come home with me.” Her voice was so soft, so full of want and love.
I stood, placing her on my desk, and stepping into between her parted thighs. “I’ll go, but I need you first.” Reaching my hand under her dress, I tugged at the panties and stockings.
“You can have me,” she responded, her voice breathless. Just the way I liked it.
A while later we entered our house. I expected the children to be asleep, as either Michelle or Carter waited for us to arrive home. Instead, I entered my home to find my youngest brother with his bare feet kicked up on top of the glass coffee table that sat in our living room while Kennedy sat on one side of him painting the nails of his left hand and Kyle sat to the right, playing on his tablet.
“Daddy!” Kennedy, exclaimed, seeing me first.
I tore my angry gaze away from my shithead brother to my baby girl, scooping her up in my arms as she ran to me.
“Dad!” Kyle stated, tossing his tablet down and following his sister.
“It’s after nine o’clock. You two should be in bed.” I glared over their shoulders to Tyler who was just now rising from the couch.
“We were having way too much fun to go to bed, right, kids?” he moved closer to us, asking the twins.
“Yeah! Uncle Ty let me paint his nails when I told him you never let me do yours,” Kennedy stated, giving me the biggest puppy dog eyes.
My heart lurched against my ribcage. She’d inherited the same sepia eyes from her mother, and I was a sucker for both. I turned to Patience who stood at my right, smirking at me. These women would be the death of me…and the rebirth.
“Thanks for watching them, Ty,” Patience began, giving my brother a hug.
I grunted at the physical contact. Ty winked at me over her shoulder. I swear if I hadn’t been holding my daughter in my arms I would’ve punched the hell out of him.
“Well, it’s been a good night, kiddos. But Uncle Ty has to be at the field early tomorrow morning.” He gave the children a kiss each but I pulled Patience away from him with one arm when he went in for another hug.
“Dad, did you get my card?” Kyle questioned.
I stooped low, still holding Kennedy who was now drifting off to sleep on my shoulder.
“I sure did. I’m going to display it on my desk at the office, right next to the picture I have of the three of you.”
His face beamed with pride.
“Come on, buddy, it’s time for bed.” I took him by the hand and gestured with my head for Patience to walk ahead while I followed her up the stairs. “Hey,” I called when she went to open the room to Kyle’s door. I gestured again to our bedroom, leading her in.
She gave me a confused look.
“I want them with us tonight.”
Her eyebrows rose. “With the way this one sleeps?” she questioned, rubbing Kennedy’s back.
“I sleep with you every night and live to tell about it.”
“Haha, you’re so funny.”
“I’m not joking. I wake up with a knee or foot in my rib almost every morning.”
She rolled her eyes, turning to the bed. “Whatever, Aaron,” she whispered.
We placed both children, who at least had been put in their pajamas by their Uncle Ty, into the bed. Patience changed into a pair of long flannel pajama bottoms, similar to the ones I often wore, and a sleeveless T-shirt. I put on a pair of my own flannels before doing my nightly routine. Right before crawling into bed, I went to Kennedy’s room to grab a book from one of her shelves.
“Can’t have bedtime without story time,” I told Patience.
She grinned and crawled into bed. Kyle moved to lay his head on her belly. She began stroking his hair the same way she often did mine. Kennedy crawled up and laid on my stomach, as I began reading Last Stop on Market Street to the children. By the time I read the final words, their light snores could be heard. Laying my head back against the pillow, I stared down at the two creations the woman I love and I made together.
“Tell me about your pregnancy.”
Patience lifted her head. Our eyes met.
“Were you sick a lot? Like Michelle?”
Her eyes widened. “You know?”
“I saw you exchange her champagne for sparkling cider the other week at Mother and Father’s. Carter mentioned her not feeling too well that night.”
She laid her head back down, still stroking Kyle’s hair, smiling. “I was very sick the first trimester. Once, I had to go to the hospital for fluids because I was so dehydrated. That’s when I found out they were twins. I wanted to wait until they were born to find out their genders but the ultrasound tech messed up and told me.”
“Do you have pictures? Of being pregnant?”
“I didn’t take many. It wasn’t exactly the happiest time for me. But I have a few.” She lifted slowly, being mindful of Kyle, to turn to the nightstand and open the top drawer. She pulled out a small photo binder.
My breath caught as soon as she opened it. The first picture was of her, six months pregnant.
“My friend, Judy, took this picture a few months after we started working at the library together.”
“Judy. You were at The Cage with her,” I stated, still staring at the picture but I felt her eyes on me.
“You remember her from that night?”
I looked from the picture to Patience. “I remember everything.”
Her lashes lowered but she remained silent, flipping to the next picture. My heart muscles squeezed yet again at the sight of the newborns nestled side-by-side in an incubator.
“I was about thirty-five weeks when they were born. Kennedy was fussy and wasn’t responding well to the medicine they were giving her to develop her lungs. They put them together and it helped. She calmed down next to her big brother.”
She continued to flip the pages and aside from my having to dodge one of Kennedy’s flailing limbs every so often, I listened intently. I enjoyed listening to story after story about the twins. The way Patience’s face lit up as she talked about them as babies and toddlers drew me in. I looked down and found myself stroking Kennedy’s hair. That seemed to relax her restlessness a little. A lump formed in my throat when I stared at them both. I regretted every moment I’d lost with them, but the gratefulness of them coming back to me was immense. It nearly overshadowed the constant cynicism I held for the world around me. Almost.