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“That’s the white guy in the picture, right? You a side baby?” Darnell asked.
“Adopted,” he said.
“Biological?”
“No good,” Mustang. “Lived with my grandmother in Wisconsin for a while. Went to Summer camp with the Johnsons, who are friends with the Neary’s. Gran died while I was at camp, and I had nowhere else to go. They took me in.”
“Sound like good people,” he said. “And how do they treat my daughters?”
“They love them, and Naomi, my Ma is wrapped around her finger. Hell, so am I,” he said, looking at him smiling. “My brother is a good man. Abigail chose well.”
“Your Ma and...Helen?”
Mustang smiled. The smile was so wide and so bright that Darnell found himself smiling too. He asked, “what?”
“My mother is a homemaker. She loves baking, making cutesy shit, and overly decorating,” he said, pointing a paintbrush towards the house. “She found a kindred spirit in Helen who hangs under her like my sister never does. It’s a nice balance.”
“You really love my baby, don’t you?”
“Sir, I will drop any man or beast coming her way, threatening her harm, including you,” he said, staring Darnell in the eyes.
“Noted,” he said looking at the bookcases. “These are nice. Where will they go?”
“In her craft room. I have a special Christmas gift for her, and she’s going to need these shelves,” he said, smiling as he worked. “But first, I need to turn the legs on this table for Abigail for the nursery. So, grab some goggles, an apron and let’s get to work. I’ll tell her you helped make this for Luke.”
Darnell understood. He was happy to be a part of their lives in any way it came. After a quick lunch, a stroll through town to secure ice cream in the dead of Winter, they returned to the home for a pleasant dinner. He watched his daughter take out a book, sit next to her husband on the couch, and read. The husband, simply content to end his day, leaned back on the couch, allowing Helen to use him as an oversized pillow. There was no rush, no chaos, no unnecessary words spoken. She sipped her tea and breathed evenly.
“This is really...nice,” Darnell said, excusing himself for the night as the emotions took over him. He stopped once in the hallway to look at the photo of Mustang and Oscar. “Hmm, a possible grandson?”
Chapter 14-Happy Chance
Helen held a cup ofcocoa as she stared at the dancing electric flames in the fireplace. She leaned against Mustang, holding the mug, not really drinking, deep in her own thoughts. This morning, they had taken her father to the airport and dropped that joker on the curb. As a dutiful daughter, she’d provided the man a hug, glad to see the back of his head. Her mind, full of so many thoughts and a week in Kentucky with her cousin, who was her sister, fathered by a man they both disliked, but now, for two totally different reasons.
Mustang leaned down, kissing her on the temple. "Helen," he said in a hushed tone.
"Hmm?"