Page 27

CHAPTER 27

EDIN

Mo’s shriek of laughter makes me smile. I pause in gathering the things she’s brought to the park, dumping them all back into the bag. Now she’s playing with Zeke and Mario. I can’t tell what they’re doing except that Mario keeps getting down like he’s a football player ready to charge and then Mo runs while Zeke plays interference and Mario chases her.

The games of an eight-year-old. What a place to be. One thing is clear, though. She’s having a great time.

After placing the last thing I can find into the bag, I sit in the grass beside Elijah. I’m closer than I meant to sit, but when his arm wraps around my waist, I decide this is exactly where I want to be anyway, so it was a happy accident. If it was an accident at all.

“So…” Elijah says. “You have plans for Thanksgiving?”

It’s two weeks away. I hate the holidays. A time when you’re supposed to be with family, but it feels like I’m dumping me and my daughter on others so she’ll have a family experience. While I’m not sure I’ll ever be convinced that family is a good, safe, and comfortable place for me, I don’t want my daughter to have that impression.

There are good families out there. I’m surrounded by them. Dak’s family is amazing and in the three years I’ve known Sparrow, his enormous family is equally amazing. I’ve only met Zeke and Jude from Elijah’s family, but every time Elijah talks about his family, it’s with fondness and affection.

And I’m trying to give Mo a good impression of what a different kind of family is like. A single dad. She remembers her mother. We used to talk about her a lot during the first six or eight months after we left. It was rarely anything good and never something Mo missed. Every time I asked if she wanted to go back, she’d adamantly shake her head.

She doesn’t miss the yelling, or her constant state of fear and feeling unwanted by her mother. Those weren’t feelings she understood well, as she shouldn’t. But it wasn’t hard to read between the lines to determine what she was feeling, either.

“We’ll probably stay here,” I say.

“On campus?”

I chew the inside of my lip. Dak mentioned that they’re going to Sparrow’s for Christmas this year and to Dak’s dads’ for Thanksgiving. Actually, he said ‘ we ,’ including me and Mo.

But I’m not sure I want to impose on them. They took care of us for the first couple years of their marriage. They take us in over the summer when we have nowhere to go. Because Mo and I have always been there, they’ve never really had a chance to begin their lives together and start family traditions of their own.

They’re even staying close to campus strictly for me and Mo. Dak graduated two and a half years ago now. Sparrow graduated three and a half years ago. They have zero reason to stay except for me.

“Yeah,” I say. “I know there are a few guys in my house that’ll be staying, too. I’m sure someone can cook and we’ll celebrate together.”

Elijah nods. “Can I make a different proposition?”

I glance at him. “Okay?”

“We don’t always go home for Thanksgiving. Sometimes we fly to Jude’s house when he’s home, but home is a little far for a short trip. So how do you feel about being together? Our dads will go to Jude, who’s on the road anyway, and Gracie’s close, so I was thinking we’ll rope her into cooking. She’s amazing and makes the best turkey, stuffing, and pecan pie you’ve ever tasted. She’s also a ball of neurotic energy that everyone just loves.”

I chew the inside of my lip as I consider this. While I think about all the implications, I let my gaze drift back to my daughter. She and the guys are now lying on their backs in the grass, not moving.

“You three alive?”

“Not dead,” they chorus and raise their hands in the air. Mo giggles.

With a smile, I nod. “Okay,” I say.

Elijah leans in and presses his lips to my temple. He doesn’t respond. I concentrate on the way my heart is beating erratically and try not to overthink this invitation.

Mo appears a minute later, dropping to her knees in front of us. “Mario and Zeke are going back to cook something. They want to barbeque, and I’m starving.”

“That mean you’re ready to go home?”

She grins. “Yes, please!”

“Take another look around and make sure we gathered everything we brought. Especially trash,” I instruct as I get to my feet. Elijah follows. With Mo’s prompting, the three of us make it a game. The first person to find something that I missed picking up wins.

What they win hasn’t been decided.

“Morgan! There you are.” I watch my daughter freeze, her eyes getting big as her entire body turns rigid.

Elijah places his hand protectively on her shoulder as I spin around. Chills break out all over my skin, racing down my body and making every single hair stand on end. My mother is marching toward us.

“Daddy?” Mo whispers and I feel her tug on my shirt.

For a moment, I can’t move. It feels like the world is closing in on me. Darkness colors the edges of my vision and all I can see through the narrow slit is my mother getting closer.

“Daddy!” Mo says louder and I jerk out of it.

Turning, I push her toward Elijah. “Go back to the park with Eli. Okay?”

Elijah reaches for her hand and Mo takes it. “But what about you, Daddy?”

“I’ll handle this. Go. Please.”

Mo nods. There are big crocodile tears in her eyes as Elijah coaxes her away. She’s reluctant to go, but he convinces her.

When I turn, my mother is right there. “What are you doing, sending her off with a stranger?”

“He’s not a stranger; he’s my boyfriend. You need to leave.”

“This is public property?—”

“This is a private school, which means private property. I will call the cops. Stay away from me and my daughter.”

“You need to go home to Lydia,” my mother insists. “How dare you take Morgan away from her mother? I always knew you’d abandon your family; you’re far too selfish to think about what’s good for anyone other than yourself. But that little girl needs her mother.”

“I happen to know from experience that sometimes you get a shit deal where parents are concerned,” I snap. “Especially mothers.”

The hurt look on her face gives me a sick sense of satisfaction. It doesn’t last long before her nasty anger replaces it. “Rotten child. Go home. Take my grandchild back where she belongs.”

I pull out my phone. “I’m giving you three seconds to leave before I call the cops.”

“On what grounds?” she asks, crossing her arms.

“Harassment, for starters. And I know they’re going to take a special interest when I say I’m concerned for my young daughter’s safety.”

“You’ve never given a shit about your daughter?—”

“No, Mom. You’ve never given a shit about your son. I took my child from a toxic situation while you forced your child into one regardless of anyone’s mental, physical, or emotional health because you were so fucking convinced that you’d teach me a lesson. You know what lesson I learned? That you’re a shitty person. Leave!”

“Edin—”

“LEAVE!” I holler as I swipe open my screen.

My mother doesn’t want to leave. I watch as her attention moves to Mo and icy dread settles through me.

“I swear to fucking god, Mom, if you ever go near my child, I will sue the fuck out of you. I will come at you with absolutely everything and you have no idea the shit you’ve done because you’re so goddamn oblivious. Get off campus. Leave California. Go die in your hole. I don’t care what you do, but stay away from us.”

I dial and hold the phone to my ear. My mother’s gaze homes in on it. When it’s clear the phone is ringing, she turns and hurries off.

The sick feeling inside me doubles. If she truly thought she was innocent with good intent, she wouldn’t feel threatened by the promise of police. She knows she’s a bad person. At the very least, she knows she’s wrong.

“Hey.”

“Dak, I need you to come to campus.”

“What’s wrong?” he asks. I can hear him moving around already.

“My mother showed up demanding I take Mo and go back to Lydia.”

“You’re not going anywhere. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

“We’re at the park across from Champlain.” Champlain is one of the residential buildings on campus. Sokokis, East, and West—the upperclassmen suite-style residential buildings—are surrounding the park we’re in as well, but we’re closest to Champlain.

“I’ll be there in five. Where’s Mo? Where’s your mother now?”

“Mom’s already disappeared around Champlain, heading in the direction of visitor parking. I sent Mo back into the park with Eli.”

“Good. I’ll be right there.”

I nod, though he can’t see it, and end the call. For another minute, I stare where my mother vanished around the corner before taking a close look around at all the faces passing by. Is my dad here too? Standing aside with no backbone and allowing my mother to do whatever the fuck she wants, per usual?

Not seeing either of my parents, I turn around to look for Mo and Elijah. They’re not far, but far enough that Mo couldn’t hear the conversation, thankfully. I try to ignore the bad feeling in my chest, and the nausea churning my stomach as I make my way toward them so I can put on a brave face for Mo.

They’re sitting on a bench. The same bench I’d been sitting on, watching Mo play, the day Elijah found me and realized I wasn’t lying when I said I had a kid. Only this time, he’s sitting on the bench with my daughter curled in tightly to his side.

“Daddy?” Mo asks, sitting up and looking at me. I can see the fear in her eyes, and I can’t help but wonder whether she remembers my mother. She wasn’t quite three when I cut my and Lydia’s parents from our lives. If she remembers anything, it can’t be more than snippets.

I crouch down and take her hands. “Listen to me. Don’t ever go with her or any stranger, understand?” Mo nods wildly. “You’re only allowed to go with me, Uncle Dak or Uncle Sparrow. Or Eli. That’s it. If anyone else tries to convince you to go with them, I want you to scream as loud as you can that they’re trying to steal you. Don’t stop screaming or fighting.”

Mo’s fear grows more and more as I talk to her. As much as I’d love to keep her protected from this so she never has to think about it, that’s not what will keep her safe.

I don’t know for certain that my mother would try to take Mo, but the sour feeling in my stomach says I’d rather everyone be ready for that possibility. Especially Mo. And that means being honest with her and telling her what she needs to do to protect herself when I’m not there to do it for her.

“Is she going to take me?” Mo asks.

“I will never let anyone take you. I promise.”

Mo sniffs. She wipes her eyes with the palm of her hand and nods.

“Are you safe, Dad?”

Dropping my knees to the ground, I lean forward to pull her into my arms and hug her tightly. “One of the few benefits of being an adult is that I have far more autonomy over myself than I did as a child. She can’t make me do or go anywhere, though she definitely tried.”

I’d be na?ve to think she won’t try again. My mother is nothing if not persistent when she’s determined to get her way. I can only imagine how much it’s pissed her off that she hasn’t had control over me and my daughter for the past five years since I refused to allow her to see my daughter. These past three years when she didn’t know where I was must have driven her insane.

“Kids don’t have as much control, which is why you should scream and not stop screaming until one of the four people I said is there to help you. Okay?”

“What about my teachers?” she asks.

I hesitate. “There’s this idea that we’re taught to trust everyone until we’re given a reason not to. Does that make sense?” Mo nods. “I want you to try that, but also be cautious. I’m telling you right now that there are only four people who are ever allowed to take you anywhere. Can you tell me who they are?”

Mo nods again. “You, Uncle Dak, Uncle Sparrow, and Eli.”

“Good. If anyone tries to convince you otherwise, you make sure you tell them that. And if they still try, keep screaming and fighting until one of us is there and can keep you safe.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

I hold my Mo tightly for a long time, working to shove away all the dark, helpless feelings trying to encircle me again. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt that cold touch, but it’s as familiar to me as breathing is. I’m not sure I’m strong enough to fight it again.