Torn: Chapter 2
Kenzi ~ age five
Toren ~ age twenty
I can hear her crying before I even step through the door. And when I do, she bolts to me and I catch her as she throws herself into my arms. Her face is red, stained with tears, her green eyes bloodshot.
‘Uncle Tor…’ she gasps for breath between each word, tearing my heart out.
I wipe her cheeks with my thumb. ‘What’s wrong, Angelcake?’
‘My bunny! I looked everywhere and he’s gone. I think he’s on that fucking tour bus!’
Ah. The coveted stuffed bunny I gave her for her last birthday. She drags it everywhere with her.
I try not to laugh at her epic use of the word fucking.
‘Whoa. Kenzi…that’s a very bad word.’ Her eyes meet mine defiantly and she says she doesn’t care.
I love her fire.
‘I wonder where she learned that.’ Ember says, glaring at me.
Kenzi pulls on my hair. ‘He’s gone, Uncle Tor. That’s all that matters.’
‘He’s not gone, Angel. He’s just on a journey. But ya know what? There’s another bunny out there that needs you. Do you think we should go find him?’
She nods solemnly and sniffles. ‘Yes. Right now.’
Ash and Ember just shake their heads when Kenzi and I come back hours later with a new stuffed bunny…and a real live bunny equipped with a deluxe cage I set up by the window in her bedroom. Kenzi is over the moon with the little rabbit we named Snuggles, and I feel like a hero for saving the day and bringing her smile back.
‘She’s got you wrapped around her little finger, man.’ Asher says.
‘And you’re gonna take care of that rabbit, Tor,’ Ember warns. ‘I’m not cleaning that cage every week.’
I shrug. ‘I don’t mind. Pets are good for kids. It teaches them responsibility.’
‘She’s five, Tor.’
‘So? Age doesn’t mean shit.’
I wink at Kenzi who’s cradling her new bunny across the room, an adorable smile on her face, tears long forgotten. It’s the best high I’ve ever felt.
Tor
Asher hands me a cup of black coffee and falls into the chair across from me at his kitchen table, zoning in on me with his dark eyes.
‘Sydni thinks you’re avoiding her.’
My head hurts too much from drinking last night to deal with Asher’s probing into my life today. He’s always trying to play shrink, and sometimes he has great advice, but other times his philosophical ramblings grate on my nerves. Now is one of those times.
‘That’s because I am.’ I vaguely remember her following me to the couch last night and me telling her to go fuck herself.
‘You think she deserves that? She just wants you to talk to her.’
‘I have nothing to say to a chick that tells me she wants to get married one second and then admits she’s in love with you the next.’
He shifts in his chair. ‘She’s not in love with me, Tor.’
Something comes out of me that is half laugh and half snort. ‘Oh trust me, she is. And ya know what? I don’t give a fuck. I’m done. You can have her.’
‘I don’t want her. I’m married.’ He fingers his platinum wedding band, turning it in circles. It’s a habit he does often, and I’m not sure even realizes he’s doing it.
As I sip my bitter coffee, I decide to let him stay in his delusion. Trying to make him see that Ember is never coming back is a feat I can’t tackle. And if Sydni’s attempts to do so haven’t worked, then nothing will. Not many men can say no to Syd with her legs for days, flaming red hair, double D’s, endless talent, and overactive sex drive. We’d all be better off if he would just hook up with her and move on with his life. Then they’d both be happy and I can slam the revolving door shut that she keeps trying to creep through every time she realizes she can’t have him.
I’m not going to be anyone’s second choice.
But somehow, I always am. I should just get the number two tattooed onto my forehead.
‘What are you two doing up so early?’
Kenzi interrupts our silent stare-off as she comes into the kitchen – still wearing my sweatshirt from last night, no pants, and fuzzy purple socks. As she reaches up into the cabinet, she goes up on her toes to grab one of her favorite mugs that once was mine and the sweatshirt rides up, uncovering half her ass and exposing her white panties with red hearts. I quickly look away and bring my coffee cup to my lips. I didn’t just see that. I didn’t just see that…
‘I have a meeting and Uncle Tor had too much to drink so he slept here. And where are your clothes? I know we can afford pants. You shouldn’t be walking around half-naked when we have company.’
She runs her hand through her rumpled hair. ‘Well, Dad, how was I supposed to know anyone was here? I just woke up. And it’s only Tor. Since when is he company? He used to live with us.’ She opens the refrigerator and pulls out milk, eggs, cheese and a container of diced veggies, then bends over to take a frying pan out from one of the lower cabinets.
I divert my eyes again as Asher downs the last of his coffee and stands. ‘I’m outta here.’ He nods to me. ‘See ya later, man. You up for a ride tomorrow? It’s supposed to be warm.’
I’m always up for a ride. ‘Hell yeah.’
‘Dad, I’m making omelettes. Don’t you want one before you go?’
‘I don’t have time today. I’m sure Tor will eat one, though.’ He kisses her forehead. ‘I’ll be home around four. We’ll have dinner together.’
I’m not about to turn away food. ‘Actually, I could use something to eat.’ Kenzi makes wicked omelettes, expertly folded like they give you at a diner. When I try to make one myself, it ends up looking like road kill.
As soon as Asher’s gone, I get up and dump the coffee he made and start a new pot. He always makes this expensive columbian crap that’s way too strong and it makes my heart jump around for the rest of the morning.
‘Did you sleep in my shirt?’ I ask.
She flips the omelette in the pan and peeks at me from behind the veil of messy golden hair falling over her face.
‘Maybe…’
Scowling, I take two plates out of the cabinet and set them next to the stove for her. ‘Kenz…I had that on while I was working on a bike yesterday. It’s probably got grease on it. And sweat.’
Shrugging, she transfers a perfect omelette onto one of the plates. ‘You can have that one. And so what? I like it. It’s cozy.’
‘It’s dirty.’
She laughs. ‘Cozy. Dirty. What’s the difference? I like how it feels and smells.’
Her liking the feel and smell of cozy and dirty while she’s wearing nothing but my shirt is not something I should be thinking about. But I do, for a quick second, before I bury it deep in that place in my chest with the other thoughts I don’t let myself think about.
Like the thoughts that Ember should have been mine.
And the thoughts that I wish I had a chance to say goodbye to my father.
And the thoughts that I should have been there to help my brother.
And the thought that I should have tried harder with Sydni years ago.
And let’s not forget the thought that I should have stayed in the band.
So many regrets.
I wait for her to sit with me at the table before I cut into the omelette, because my mom raised me with manners, and high on that list is you don’t start eating until everyone is seated at the table.
‘So…you had yourself a little binge last night?’ Her eyes dance as she chews and swallows. ‘What brought that on?’
‘Just a bad mood, I guess. It’s not going to be a habit.’
‘A bad mood named Sydni or a bad mood named Lisa?’
‘Eat your breakfast. And both.’
‘Neither one of them are worth drinking over, Uncle Tor. You want to turn into a drunken mess again?’
I glare at her for bringing that up. A few years ago I had what you might call a drinking problem, but I’ll never go down that road again.
‘Not gonna happen.’
‘Good. Because I’m older now and I’m armed with a cell camera and Instagram. I’ll document all your embarrassing drunk moments.’
‘I’m sure you would, brat.’
She tilts her head at me, chewing her lip, and I know that look all too well. It means she’s thinking about asking or telling me something. I brace myself, because Kenzi saves all her deepest and craziest conversations for me. ‘Chloe thinks I should give up my V-card to Jason.’ She finally says.
I choke on my coffee.
‘Chloe should keep her mouth shut. And her legs.’ Christ. I’m totally not prepared for this conversation, especially hung over. I was expecting her to want tattoo’s or nose piercings, or maybe purple hair to match her socks. But not sex.
‘Why? I’m seventeen. Almost eighteen. Maybe she’s right.’
I wipe my mouth. ‘She’s not.’
‘How old were you?’
‘When?’
‘Your first time.’
‘That’s different, I’m a guy.’
‘Well how old was she, then? The girl you did it with?’
Fuck.
‘Kenz, you should only be doing that when the time is right. With the right guy.’
‘I know…but what if the right guy never comes?’
‘He will.’ As I sit here still single at thirty-two. ‘You’re young, just enjoy your life and don’t worry about sleeping with guys. Your father will have a shit fit if he hears you talking like this. You want to give him a heart attack?’
She rolls her eyes. ‘He still thinks I’m five.’
‘So do I.’
She kicks me under the table. ‘No, you don’t. You’re not nearly as bad as him. And my mom had to be about fourteen, obviously, when she started having sex.’
‘I think you should talk to your grandmother about this. Or your aunt? Maybe Rayne? Someone of the female persuasion?’
Her nose crinkles. ‘Nah. I’d be too uncomfortable talking to them.’
‘But not with me?’
She shakes her head. ‘I like talking to you. You listen to me and you don’t judge me.’
‘I’m flattered. But I’m the last fucking person to be giving relationship or sex advice.’
I lean back in the chair and push my empty plate away. I can’t think about Kenzi having sex. My brain is way too mangled up with visions of her as a little girl and the glimpse of her half-naked ass I saw a few minutes ago. She’s growing up too fast. It seems like just yesterday I was babysitting her. Now she’s asking me questions about sex and looking less like a little girl and more like a woman. It’s confusing as hell, and I have no idea how Asher is dealing with this shit.
‘Most of the girls I know have had sex already, way before they were seventeen. With a few guys, even. Not at the same time, though…at least I don’t think so. You know what I’m saying, right?’ She pauses and I nod, dumbfounded and at a loss for words. ‘I don’t feel that way about any of the guys I’ve dated, though. I don’t even like kissing them,’ she plays with her napkin and doesn’t look up at me. ‘Do you think maybe there’s something wrong with me? Why don’t I feel anything yet?’
I suppress the laugh and relief I feel. ‘No, Angel. I think you’re fine.’
‘Really?’
‘Really. You’ll feel it when you’re ready and when it’s the right guy. You can’t force it. It should mean something, ya know? Especially your first time. Don’t do it just because fuckin’ Chloe says to. Just be you, like you’ve always been. Don’t cave to pressure now. That’s never been you.’
She nods slowly. ‘I just hate always being the weird one that isn’t doing what everyone else is doing. I want to fit in, for once.’
‘Trust me, you’re not the weird one. You’re unique. You’ve always had your own mind and your own plan. I’d hate to see you change and end up like everyone else out there. That would be a shame.’
She fidgets with her fork, pushing a small piece of ham around on her plate. ‘I’m on the pill.’ She says softly, still looking at her plate.
I blink at her. ‘Come again?’
‘The pill. Birth control.’
‘I know what it is, Kenzi. Why?’
‘I was having a lot of cramps every month so Rayne took me to her doctor for a checkup. The doctor said it would help, and it has. I didn’t tell my Dad, though, and I’m afraid he’s going to find them and go ballistic.’
‘Well, yeah, of course he will.’
‘Chloe says it’s a good idea anyway, though, because guys don’t like to wear condoms.’
My jaw clenches so hard I’m afraid I’m going to crack a molar. ‘Listen to me, Kenzi. There’s a lot more to sex than just getting pregnant. There’s all sorts of diseases you can get.’ She stares at me, wide eyed. ‘When you start having sex, you better make the guy wear a condom until you’re damn sure you can trust him. I don’t give a fuck if some little douchebag doesn’t like the way it feels. You stand your ground and make him, okay?’
‘Okay.’
‘If anyone tries to pull that shit with you, I’ll put them in a fucking hole, Kenzi.’
I end the conversation by standing and taking our plates over to the sink. ‘I better get going, I should have been at the shop hours ago. I’ll see you tonight? About six?’
‘Sounds good.’ She stares out the window, lost in her thoughts.
‘And wash my sweatshirt!’ I yell over my shoulder on my way out the door.
As I drive to the bike shop, my mind keeps wandering back to the conversation I just had with Kenzi. Maybe I should have said more. Or nothing at all. I’ve always tried to be there for her, but I sure as hell don’t know how to give sex advice to a teenage girl who’s on the verge of giving up her virginity. The mere thought of it makes me feel sick. I can’t even get my own shit together when it comes to dating.
She always comes to me when she needs to talk, though. Or when she’s scared. Or has something exciting to share.
It really should come as no surprise since my name was the first word she ever said.
Now it’s like we’re verbally bonded.
The motorcycle shop is already open and blaring with the racket of heavy metal music and air tools when I get there. My brother Tanner usually opens up the shop and I close, because he’s a morning person and I’m usually up late at night, saving lost pets and stalking bad guys. You think I’m kidding? I’m not.
The shop belonged to my father, Thomas Grace, who lived, breathed, and ate bikes, and he passed that passion down to his boys. The only thing he loved more than riding was my mom. And his kids, of course. But mom came first, and that’s the way it should be.
That changed twelve years ago when my dad dropped dead of a heart attack. Bam. Gone.
Being the oldest, I had no choice but to step up and take care of the family business, my mom, my four younger brothers and my little sister. Six sets of eyes all looking at me to put us back together again. This went down just two months before the band’s big break, first major tour, and a record deal. I had to bail out of the band that me, Asher, and Ember started years before and watch from the sidelines as they became rich famous rock stars. Meanwhile, my guitar ended up in a closet collecting dust and my dreams slowly faded away. But hey, I get a royalty check since I wrote some of the songs on the first album. Yay, me.
In the blink of an eye, I went from being a wild musician living on the road out of an old suitcase, partying hard without a care in the world, to having to be the responsible one.
Life is funny like that.
I enter through the back door of the shop, where my brothers Tanner, Taran, and Tristan are busy working in their areas. Tanner and Taran mostly do engine rebuilds, and Tristan does all our custom airbrushing and pin striping. We have another mechanic, Sled, who works part-time. I mostly work on the older, vintage bike restorations. Dad’s strict rule was we only sell and work on cruisers – no racing bikes. To this day, I’ve made sure we held up that rule. No race bikes. No rice rockets. No scooters. Ever.
And yeah, my mom had a thing about the letter T and giving us unique names when she named all of us.
Every day starts the same for me at the shop, and it’s the part I hate the most because I have to hole up in my office and go through the mail, sort out the bills and purchase orders, and set the schedule for upcoming work. I fucking despise paperwork, but my Dad did this all himself so I figure I should, too.
After I finish the paperwork bullshit, I switch gears and focus on my role as the head of Devils’ Wolves MC and pet rescue – run by myself, my brothers and a few other bikers. Devils’ Wolves was my brainchild about five years ago, fueled by my deep respect for two things that my parents instilled in us: the love of pets and motorcycles. That and a bout of insomnia is how I came up with the perfect plan to actually do something with my life that made me feel like I had some purpose again.
My mother runs Wolfy’s Place, a pet shelter and sanctuary here in town that operates twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. And while taking in strays, getting them medical attention and adopting them out is great, I wanted to find the ones that were too lost to be seen, save the ones that were being abused, and basically fuck up the people that were hurting them. Like the assholes that run underground dog fighting rings. Or the old ladies that go out of their minds and horde two hundred cats in their dilapidated houses. Okay, so I don’t fuck up old ladies, but I do go in there and use my charm to get those cats out before they start eating each other.
We use the club to run charity events and rides to raise money to support our rescue equipment, and we donate a portion of the funds to Wolfy’s Place. So, it’s a win-win.
It also coaxes Tyler to come out of his house hidden in the woods. Just like the lost, scared, and abused dogs, he’ll only come out in the dark when no one can see him. Or hear him. My brother Ty is a legit psychopath. He has a special gift for being able to creep around the woods unheard and unseen. Stalking, hunting, and capturing are his specialty, second to his ability to get in and out of houses without making a sound or getting caught. And that’s how my brother has saved over fifty dogs – and also how he’s put several animal offenders in the hospital nearly beaten to death. To say he likes to inflict pain and suffering would be an understatement.
I haven’t seen Ty in the daylight in years, and he’s said less than ten words in that time. We communicate solely through text messages and meet in the parking lot of the shelter late at night when he has a captured dog or cat to drop off.
Every month I deposit money into his bank account. Partly because he deserves profits from the family business, and partly from my own guilt over what happened to him.
I shove that thought down into my chest with the rest of my mistakes and regrets.
Last night’s recorded video feeds from my night vision cameras on the trails didn’t catch anything and neither did my feeding traps. A few weeks ago a limping dog was seen several times roaming that area by the river. I’ve caught him on the feeds a few times, sniffing at the cage, wanting to go in and grab that food, but he’s leery and won’t go in. Sometimes they’d rather starve than give in and get caught, and that’s a position I can respect. Freedom to do what we want, even for a short time, can be worth the pain and suffering we have to endure to have it.
Just as I’m about to go out to the shop to start doing some real work, my cell phone rings.
Lisa.
I swipe the screen and hold the phone to my ear. ‘Yeah?’
‘I figured if I didn’t call you, you’d never call me.’ She’s right about that. I don’t chase. If you choose to walk out that door, you can keep fuckin’ going.
‘As you pointed out, I don’t have much to say. Remember?’
‘Tor, I’m trying. I heard you were with Sydni last night. Are you back together?’
‘I wasn’t with Sydni. We were at Asher’s house with about twenty other people. I didn’t go with her or leave with her. We talked for a few minutes and that was it. Tell your gossip hounds not to quit their day job. They suck.’
She sighs a mixture of relief and annoyance. ‘Maybe we could try again? What are you doing tonight?’
‘After work I’m going to refill my feeding traps. You can come with me, if you want. It’s right by the river. We could sit there and talk.’ If she wants to talk, I’ll try to talk. The truth is, I like Lisa. She’s attractive with long dark hair, almond-shaped bambi eyes, and a nice body. She works at the bank, has no kids, and doesn’t party. In theory, she’s the perfect kind of woman to settle down with. She’s the kind of woman I could bring home to my mother and not be embarrassed of, or have to worry about her flirting it up with my brothers.
‘Trekking out into the woods with a pile of meat really isn’t my idea of a date. Can’t you skip it tonight? Let’s go out to dinner to a real restaurant. I want to see you out of jeans for once. If things go well, we can come back to my place…’ She trails off, her intention clear.
My eyes close for a long moment. I was hoping she would agree, and that for once a woman would walk through the door I was holding open and step into my world to get to know me. I want her to care enough about me to get involved just a little in what’s important to me. I thought maybe Lisa would be that woman, especially after her speech a few nights ago about me being cold, uncaring, disconnected, and all that other shit. Here I am asking her to help me do something that’s a huge part of my life, something I built out of nothing and is evidence of the care and giving she claims I don’t have in me, and now she doesn’t want it.
‘I can’t do that, Lisa. Not tonight. Ty watches the live video feeds at night, or sits out in the woods, especially on the weekends, so if he sees one of the dogs he can get an idea of the shape they’re in, or go pick them up if they go in the cage. I have to set out the food to lure them.’
‘Can’t he do that?’
‘No. He doesn’t like to handle the food, and he only goes out at night. The food has to be set out before it’s dark.’
‘That’s stupid,’ she says flippantly. ‘I’m sure he can do it if you told him you have plans.’
The urge to end the call wafts up in me, but she doesn’t know Ty or his story and why he is the way he is. Her use of the word stupid has pissed me right the fuck off, though.
‘He can’t. I gotta go. I have work to do.’
‘As usual.’ Disappointment is heavy in her voice and I’m sure it matches mine. ‘Maybe when you’re done playing in the woods you can stop by. I’d still like to see you. Just take a shower first so you don’t smell like grease and chicken, okay?’
‘Yeah. I’ll do that.’
I hit end on my phone and shove it in my back pocket with zero intention of showing up at her house tonight for a late night sexfest. No thanks. I have this thing called self-respect. I’m disappointed in Lisa, though. I thought she may have been the one to see that underneath the muscles, ink, and grease, beyond the loud bike, past the long hair and dirty fingers, is a man who wants the whole fucking package. Not just the fucking. Been there, done that.
She’s waiting for me at the end of the driveway, her earbuds in, shaking her head back and forth to the music. I pull my truck up to the curb and lean across the front seat to open the door for her.
‘You’re twelve minutes late.’ She slams the door shut and pulls the seatbelt across her, fastening it before giving me an accusing look.
I give her a sideways glance as I shift the truck. ‘Twelve? Really?’
‘Yup. You know how I feel about punctuality. Lateness is a trait of disrespect and it gives the person waiting for you time to think about your other shortcomings.’
‘Is that right?’ Kenzi has a thing for quotes lately.
‘Yes.’
‘I’m fairly confident I don’t have any shortcomings, Kenz.’
‘Except lateness.’
‘I can live with that. There’s a lot worse things a person can be.’
She nods. ‘Yeah, like a bad kisser.’
I let out a laugh. ‘Now that would suck.’
She takes out her earbuds and shoves them into her pocket. ‘You have no idea.’
Poor Jason. That kid doesn’t have a chance with her. Kenzi’s going to be a hard girl for a guy to snag, and I kinda like that. She deserves to have someone work to get her love and respect.
Kenzi has been helping me set up the cameras and the feeding traps for as long as I can remember. When she was younger she used to beg to go. After about a hundred tantrums, Ember agreed to let her come with me. I never minded having her come along because she’s always fun to have around and she soaks up everything like a sponge. I’ve never met a kid as smart as her, or one who was so content hanging around with her parents and their third wheel. A.k.a me.
She sighs and looks out the window as we drive. ‘This dog is getting on my last nerve. What’s it been…a month we’ve been offering food to him? What’s his deal? There are people starving out in the world and he’s turning away fresh chicken and raw beef.’
‘He’s not ready yet. That’s all.’
‘Maybe we should start feeding homeless people. At least they’ll be grateful. Don’t get me wrong, I love dogs, and I want to help him but damn. Right?’
‘We’re not doing this just to feed him, Kenz. We’re trying to save him, get him out of the woods and hopefully into a good home before he becomes completely feral or dies out there.’
She blows her hair out of her face. ‘I know. I’m just frustrated with him. I want him to just get in that cage already. He’s wasting a lot of good food. Isn’t he hungry? He must be. What’s he eating out there?’
I shrug, but I’m intrigued by her intense interest. ‘Maybe squirrels and other rodents.’
‘Like rabbits?’ she asks in horror.
‘Maybe…’
She looks like she’s going to start to cry. ‘He better not be eating rabbits, Tor. Or we’re gonna leave his ass out there.’
‘Rabbits are fast, I doubt he could catch one,’ I lie. ‘Maybe he’s a vegetarian.’
Giggling, she turns up the radio. ‘You’re such a nut sometimes.’
It takes us about fifteen minutes to get to the dirt road that takes us half way to the river, then we have to park the truck and walk the rest of the way. I grab the small cooler filled with fresh meat from the backseat and she grabs her backpack and we hike about a quarter mile to the first cage. We put on disposable gloves to remove the old meat and put it in a trash bag and then refill the cage. I check the hidden night vision camera to make sure it’s still working while she takes a small box wrapped in brown paper out of her backpack and puts it on top of the cage.
‘A book. I think he’ll like it.’ She says when she notices me watching her. Nodding, I reach out and grab her hand while we climb over a fallen tree to get to the next cage. Kenzi likes to leave gifts for Ty for when he checks the cages. She leaves him books, CDs, little statues. I’ve seen him on the recorded feeds when he finds them. He holds whatever it is in his hands for a long time, just staring at it, sometimes gliding his fingers over it, before he shoves it in his coat pocket. I don’t have to show her what I see on camera for her to know he appreciates it, because she doesn’t care about that part. She just wants to give. Even though she hasn’t seen him in a very long time, it means a lot to me that she’s never forgotten him.
My two best friends gave me my third best friend. Kenzi is the greatest parts of her parents combined. She’s got Asher’s philosophical I-want-to-fix-everyone outlook and Ember’s happy, free, no bullshit spirit.
Lately I’ve been wondering how she sees me. Now that she’s older, I’m sure I don’t come off as the hero who wipes tears and brings home bunnies like when she was little, and I kinda miss that. It was a cool feeling to have this little person view me as the one that made everything better for them.
After we check the second cage we make our way up the trail a ways to sit on a big rock next to the river, where we watch the water for a few minutes before she pulls a penny out of her pocket and grins at me before tossing it into the water. This has become a little tradition with us – making wishes.
‘What did you wish for?’ I ask her.
‘Direction.’
I narrow my eyes at her in confusion. ‘Direction? For what?’
‘My future.’
My fingers twirl my own penny between my thumb and forefinger. I can’t throw mine until we talk about hers. That’s the rule.
‘I’m not sure what I should be doing, Tor.’
‘That’s simple, Angelcake. Do whatever you want to do.’
‘But it’s not that simple. I don’t think I want to go to college.’
‘So don’t. Your parents have never cared if you went to college or not. That’s not important to them, they just want you to be happy.’
She chews her lip. ‘I know. Dad says I can do whatever will make me happiest and give me peace of mind as he calls it.’
‘He means that, Kenz. Within reason, of course. You can’t go off and be a stripper.’
She smiles weakly, still stuck in her serious mode.
She touches her pink work boot to my black one. ‘I like the little bit of modeling I’ve done, but I really don’t want that to be what I do with my life. And I really do love to write, like my grandmother. But again, I don’t know if I could do that day in and day out for the rest of my life. And I love my calligraphy, but not many people will pay for handwritten wedding invitations and stuff like that anymore.’
‘You could do some modeling, and some writing and your calligraphy. You don’t have to just do one thing. You can do lots of things. You can figure it out as you go, ya know. You don’t have to make a plan right now. That’s a lot to decide at your age.’
‘I know. I just feel like I want a goal, something to shoot for. Otherwise I feel lost.’
‘That makes sense.’
She pushes her hair out of her face. ‘Can I tell you what I really want?’
‘Of course.’
She hesitates before she answers, her eyes cast down. ‘I want to get married, and have a family. I want to have a cute little house—not something big like Dad’s house. Something small and cozy, with a porch so I can watch the kids play in the yard with the dog.’
‘A dog, too?’ I tease.
‘Of course. And I want to cook dinner and have a husband that comes home every night and sits at the table with me and the kids, and snuggles on the couch with me. I want that to be my future, Tor. I don’t want a ‘job’,’ she puts her hands up and makes the quote sign. ‘I want to spend all my time loving my family. And I’d really like to keep volunteering at the pet shelter with your mom. That makes my heart happy.’ She peeks up at me, trying to gauge what I’m thinking. ‘Is all of that dumb? Is it too fifties to want to get married and have kids?’
I laugh, but mostly to hide how she’s got me choked up. She just described exactly what Ember told me she wanted a few years ago one night when we were up late talking while Asher was asleep. She didn’t want the band life for either of them anymore. She wanted them both to be home, with Kenzi, and not on the road all the time being separated so much. She even wanted another baby, but mostly she just wanted them all to be happy and together.
Swallowing hard, I lean a little closer to her. ‘I don’t think it’s dumb at all, Angel. In fact, I think your mom is watching over you, helping you choose your direction.’ I wait for her to pull away and shut me out, because that’s what she always does when we talk about Ember in the present tense. Kenzi can handle talking about her mother in the past, but not in the present or the future. This time she surprises me, her head snapping up, her eyes wide to meet mine.
‘Really? You think she would want me to have that?’
‘I definitely do.’
Her eyes glisten with tears as she smiles. ‘That makes me feel better. Chloe thinks it’s stupid and nobody wants to be a wife and mother anymore. At least not as their main goal in life.’
‘Do me a favor. Stop listening to Chloe and listen to your heart.’
She throws her arms around me and hugs me. ‘You always make me feel better,’ she whispers into my neck. ‘No matter what, you say the right thing every time.’
When she doesn’t let go, I put my arm around her and hug her back.
‘I try,’ I say softly, my fingers touching the ends of her silky hair. I’ve touched her hair many times, even brushed it and braided it when she was small, but I don’t remember it feeling so soft.
Her breath is warm against the side of my throat, and for a moment I think I feel her lips against me. ‘You always smell so good. I don’t want to let go,’ she says wistfully.
I hold her tighter, because lately she says all the right things, too. There’s no way she could know that the innocent little comments she makes sometimes are everything I need to hear, but I hang on to the words anyway. Fuck it if they don’t mean what I need them to mean, or don’t come from the right person.
Four seconds. That’s what I give myself. And then I slowly pull away.
‘Your turn,’ she says, reminding me to throw my penny into the river and make my wish.
‘It’s getting dark, we should go.’ I move to jump off the rock but she grabs my arm.
‘No, you have to make your wish first. Then we’ll go.’
Shaking my head, I toss my penny into the river. ‘Happy now? Let’s go.’
I jump off the rock and hold my hand out to her as she climbs down, then I grab the cooler and her backpack and throw it over my shoulder.
She brushes off the back of her jeans. ‘What did you wish for?’
‘The same thing you did.’
‘Direction?’ she repeats as we walk down the trail. ‘What do you need direction for? You have the business and the rescue. You have your house and your bikes. Your life is together.’
‘It’s not as together as you think. Maybe I wanted what you want.’
‘A wife and kids? You?’ She says it like it’s the most shocking thing she’s ever heard.
‘Yeah. Why is that so hard to believe?’
She looks down at the trail as we walk. ‘I don’t know. Not hard to believe, really. But if you had those things, you wouldn’t have been around as much. I can’t even imagine that. I guess I always thought we were your family,’ she stumbles on a rock and grabs onto my hand. ‘I never knew you wanted more.’
I squeeze her hand in mine. ‘Surprise. I did. I do.’
‘Well, then you should get it. Your wishes should come true, too. Not just mine.’
‘Yeah, maybe someday.’ I sigh and look around the woods. I’m not sure that’s ever going to happen for me.
‘So how come you never married Sydni? Or got more seriously involved with any of the other girls you’ve dated?’
‘I have a hard time committing.’
Her face flashes a look of distaste. ‘You mean you’re a cheater? That’s awful.’
‘No, I’m not a cheater, Kenz. I’m just waiting for the one that makes me feel like forever wouldn’t be long enough.’
‘And you’ve never felt like that? Not even with Sydni?’ She swats a bug out of her face. ‘Maybe that feeling just doesn’t exist.’
‘I think it exists. I just think sometimes fate fucks it all up for us.’
‘Like what happened to my parents?’
‘Exactly. Your parents had everything. And fate fucked them hard. I don’t know what’s worse – never finding the one, or finding them and then fuckin’ losing them.’
Her teeth work her bottom lip as she thinks that over. ‘I think losing them is worse than never knowing them at all.’
‘You might be right. Anyway, after a few months of dating, women start to want more. They start gawking at rings in the mall, talking about kids, moving their shit into my closet. And then I back off ’cause I don’t want to lead them on, ya know? I don’t want them to think something’s there that might not be. But I don’t want to lose them, either. I just never felt like I was ready to take the dive into more than just dating. Then when they sense that, they get all fuckin’ pissed off, call me an asshole, and it’s all downhill from there, Angelcake.’
She sighs and doesn’t speak for a few moments as we walk along the trail ‘You paint a grim picture, Tor. But I think your forever girl is out there. You just have to find her.’
‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’
‘Remember when I was little I used to tell everyone I was going to marry you?’
‘Yup. It’s the first thing you told every girlfriend I had.’
Her hand covers her mouth as she laughs, her cheeks turning pink. ‘Oh shit. I’m sorry, Tor. I was a pain in the ass, huh?’
I wink at her affectionately. ‘Kinda. At least you don’t do that now.’
‘Maybe next time you bring a girl over I’ll do it just to make you laugh and see the look on her face,’ she teases.
I don’t say anything, because a part of me wants her to do just that. It was nice to have a girl stake a claim on me and be all prepared to go to battle for my heart. Even if she was only five.