Page 56 of Secrets That Bind Us
my phone goes off. I look down at the screen and see Verity’s picture pop up. I don’t hesitate to answer. “Ver?”
I can hear commotion going on in the background, and she soundsstressed. “You want to know what my life is like? Come on over. You’re not going to meet my kids when they’re on their best behavior, the sun is shining, and unicorns are dancing. You wanted the bad and ugly? You want to show me you’re serious? Come on, then. Bring some Pedialyte, ginger ale, and crackers. Door’s open.” And she hangs up.
I get my ass in gear, give Bear a pat on the head, hop onto my Harley, stop at the Dollar store in town, drive past all of Adelaide’s landmarks, down the two-lane country road, and make it to her house in less than thirty minutes.
To say I walk into a shit show– supplies in tow– is almost too accurate. Noah is holding a Halloween trick-or-treat bucket, vomiting into it. Verity is behind Savannah, holding her hair back as she pukes on theexpensive looking white-as-snow rug. Verity is calm– even though she looks like she’s in pain, but not for herself. For her kids. And in full mom mode.
I should not be attracted to her right now. I know I shouldn’t.
It’s fucking sexy.
But then I hear a trembling, hoarse– “Mommy I think I sharted.” Noah says from his bucket.
I cover my mouth, so she doesn’t see me crack a smile behind my fingers. Fuck, that’s hilarious. It’s horrible… but fuck, that’s funny.
Verity’s eyes shoot up to mine in a death glare I feel in my bones, and I have to remind myself this isn’t the right time to be attracted to her– but goddamn, I’m attracted to her all the time.
After heaving a final time, Savannah stands slightly, still bent, holding her middle. Tears in her eyes, teeth chattering. “Mom, I’m so sorry. I couldn’t hold it. I tried to make it, I swear.”
Her eyes soften at our daughter. "It's just a rug, Savvy honey. Not more important than you. I didn’t really like it anyway.” It’s a lie. Savannah’s brows bunch up together like she knows this, and she holds her stomach, a tear rolling down her face. A tear I want to wipe away– but I don’t have that liberty yet. Because I don’t know my own daughter. “Do you feel better at least? Letting it go?”
Sav nods.
“Good. Hopefully the worst part is over. Go get in bed. I’ll be up in a bit to check your temperature.”
Big, blue, watery eyes glance at the staircase, and she shakes her head. “Mom, I don’t think I can make it. My legs hurt. My muscles are sore. I hurt all over.”
Jesus.
“Go get in my bed then. Here, take a bucket.” She grabs one from under the kitchen sink and hands it to our daughter. “Place a towel under it to catch anything that doesn’t make it in. Okay? I gotta make sure your brother didn’t…shart,” she sighs softly. “And if he did I’ll be in after I clean him up.”
“I can do that,” I reply. “The… bucket and towel thing.” I offer. Savannah finally seems to notice I’m here and our blue eyes connect.
Recognition flashes in her eyes. “Sheriff?”
“Hey Sunshine. Your Mama called reinforcements.” I lift the plastic bag in my hand.
Savannah nods weakly, and the pain etched on her face makes me sad. She shuffles past me, and I follow, grabbing the black, empty bucket Verity is offering, then stop by the linen closet on my way to the newly built primary bedroom on the first floor. The huge suite with lavish furniture fit forroyalty– complete with a king-sized sleigh bed, a chest at the foot of the bed to hold blankets, two grey nightstands on each side, a grey chest of drawers, and a full-length mirror in a corner of the room. The door at the far end of the room I already know connects to the study that has floor to ceiling bookshelves.
It's exactly what I imagined our bedroom would look like when we were younger. ExceptWillbuilt these, and because of that simple fact- Iloathethem. In every single one of my daydreams, I built her the library of her dreams. Me. I got a whole mind to tear the fucking things down and build them all over again.
Savannah goes to her mom’s drawers and pulls out what looks to be pajama bottoms and an old, ratty t-shirt and heads to the ensuite bathroom. I lay the towel down on the ground and place the bucket on top. I grab a Pedialyte and a ginger ale from the bag still in my hand and place them on the nightstand. I hear the door open behind me, and Savannah strides out– pale, and sickly. I hold back a smirk.
Because she’s wearing my old Adelaide High Panther’s shirt. Which means Verity kept it after all this time. Wore it until almost everything but my jersey number faded, and I hope that shit pissed Micah off.
She eyes me wearily as if she doesn’t trust me– and again, I push back my grin. “So, you're my mom’s friend,huh?”
I grin inwardly. Yeah, she’s mine.
I uncap the bottle and have her take a few sips of the electrolytes. “That’s what she calls me.”
Handing me back the bottle, she climbs into bed, but I don’t miss the way she shivers from a fever– her freckles dark on her pale skin. The weird instinct to immediately tuck her in so she warms up strikes me, and I do so.
“Good. She… she needs a… afriendlike you.” Is all she says before her lashes flutter closed and she’s drifting off. Her approval does things to my chest. God she looks like us. She may have my blue eyes, my freckles and my hair but her nose is her mom’s. Even the shape of her eyes and her thick lashes and the shape of her brows – it’s all Verity. She’s a perfect combination of us.
My heart contracts, and I blink back tears.
When I know she’s completely asleep, I can’t stop myself from placing a kiss on her damp forehead. A second later, I go back out to the living room where Verity is on her knees scrubbing the rug. Noah’s legs are limply wrapped around her torso, in her arms sound asleep in clean, feety pajamas with little cartoon police cars all over them– and my heart swells again… only to drop at the sight before me.
