Page 5 of Hale Yeah, It’s You

"Knock-knock!" I yell through the screen door. "It’s me, the world’s best auntie, here for her daily snuggles..."

When no one comes to the door, I roll my eyes and let myself in. The screen door slaps shut behind me. Sometimes Tasha and Alayna go back to sleep after Clay leaves for work, so I head through the little house to the kitchen to see if anyone’s up. I turn the corner and stop short.

Clay is leaning over the kitchen sink, elbows digging into the old laminate counter, head in his large hands. His shoulders are shaking hard, and there’s a strange noise coming from him. Is he... sobbing?

"Clay?" I ask gently, careful not to startle him. "Is everything okay? Where are the girls?"

His sobs grow quiet, and he sniffles a few times, wiping his nose with his sleeve before turning to face me. His voice is gravelly and low when he finally speaks .

"She left us, Frankie. She left us both."

I blink at him, trying to understand. "Who left?"

"Tasha. She’s gone."

My head shakes on instinct. "What do you mean, gone? I don’t understand—"

"She left me a goddamn note, Frankie. She said she needs to find herself again. That this isn’t the life she wanted… That I’m not the life she wanted."

"A note?" My jaw tightens as I grind my teeth. What does he mean she left a note? What does she mean this isn’t the life she wanted? Tasha and Clay were like bookends. Destined.

"I found it this morning. I got up to make coffee for work, and it was here..." He gestures to a crumpled slip of paper by the coffee machine. "Waiting for me."

"She didn’t even say goodbye?"

My sister wouldn’t just leave her family. No. She couldn’t do something like that. But even as I fight the thought, I know I’m lying to myself. Tasha’s definitely capable of this. She’s always done what she wanted, regardless of the damage left behind.

Just like Roman.

"I’m so sorry..." The words sound flat and useless. They don’t even begin to cover this. She abandoned her whole family. Her vows…

My heart aches for Clay. And then it hits me. "Wait. Where’s Alayna?"

Fear crashes over me like an ice bath, and I cover my mouth with both hands. Tasha leaving is crushing, but the idea of losing my niece—of her being gone too—I might throw up right here on Grandma’s old kitchen floor.

Clay rushes over, grabbing my shoulders as panic floods me.

"No, Frankie, it’s okay. She’s still here. She’s asleep in her room. I don’t know how I’m going to tell her... tell her that her mother—God, I don’t understand how she could do this." Another sob slips out of him .

Relief washes through me, but it’s short-lived.

He’s right. How do you tell a sweet little girl her mama left?

Not because she was taken. Not because she got lost. She left—on purpose.

She might not get that now, but one day, she will.

I pull my sweater tighter, trying to fight off the cold sinking into my bones.

Clay still hasn’t let go of my shoulders. I wonder if he needs the contact to stay upright, because I do.

"I took the day off work, but I’ve got to go in tomorrow. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with the baby." He clenches his jaw, eyes raised to the ceiling like the answer might be up there.

"I’ll watch her. At least until you can find someone or get her into preschool or something. It’s fine. Dad won’t care if I miss some shifts at the hardware store. It’s not like he needs me—he’s got Mike and, in a pinch, Mom if he really needs help."

Clay shakes his head. "I can’t ask you to do that, Frankie. You’re about to turn twenty-one. This is your time to figure out who you are and what you want."

"Good thing you’re not asking then. I’m offering. And you’re going to be quiet and let me take care of my niece while you get things sorted. I know exactly who I am." I lift my chin and meet his eyes, daring him to argue.

As if on cue, Layna-bug cries out down the hall. Her chubby feet slap noisily against the old floor as she runs toward us.

"Mama? Mama?"

Clay’s face folds in on itself as she calls for her mother, and I press into him, wrapping my arms around his trembling frame, holding him as tightly as I can. As much as I’m hurting, I know his pain is a thousand times worse.

"What am I going to do, Frankie?" he whispers into my hair.

I don’t know how to answer. This solid man I’ve known most of my life suddenly looks so small. So fragile .

"Keke!" Alayna barrels into my legs, arms lifted. I pull away from Clay and scoop her up, tucking her against my chest. She still can’t say Frankie right, and I’ve gladly taken the nickname.

"Hey, Layna-bug." I squeeze her tight, peppering kisses on her cheeks and the top of her head. Tears sting my eyes. Her warm little body grounds me.

"Where’s Mama?" she asks softly, arms tightening around my neck.

"Mama had to go bye-bye for a while, Layna-bug. But your daddy and I are here."

"Mama go bye-bye?" She pushes back to look at me, those bright eyes wide and confused.

Clay touches my shoulder gently and kisses the top of her head before stepping out of the room. He needs a minute to pull himself together, and I hope he can do that. This little girl is going to need him more than ever now.

I hold her even tighter.

"Yes, sweetheart. But Keke will never leave you, okay? Do you understand?"

And right then, I know I’ll never break that promise. No matter what it costs me.