Bonus Kisses - Freya Barker Page 0,5
kids?” Sarah asks the moment Taz disappears down the hall.
She finally headed to the hotel across the street to grab some shut-eye, unable to stay standing from exhaustion. With plans in place to move Nicky home early tomorrow morning, Taz should grab rest while she can.
“I talked to Kathleen. She’s dropping them off tomorrow after school, once we’ve had a chance to settle in.”
“That’s not what I mean,” she says. “They don’t even know Natasha. She’s a stranger to them.”
“That’s enough, Sarah,” Ed unexpectedly pipes up. His soft raspy voice doesn’t hide the steel underneath. The man doesn’t assert himself often and it startles his wife. “She’s their aunt, their mother’s sister, our daughter. The kids will take their cue from us.” He underlines his words with a sharp look. “It’ll be hard enough without the adults in their life shooting barbs at each other.”
Sarah looks duly chastised and I feel the same. Ed is right; Sofie especially is very sensitive to moods and atmospheres. Too perceptive for her age, she picked up on the growing distance between her mother and me this past year. Five-year-old Spencer simply follows along with whatever vibe his sister puts out there.
The kids’ welfare has precedence over any family squabbles or grievances.
Not soon after, my in-laws say their goodbyes and leave. They’re heading back to Eminence tonight, so someone is at the house when the hospital bed is delivered first thing tomorrow morning.
“Tough day.”
I snort at Nicky’s softly whispered comment and turn to look at her. “That’s gotta be the understatement of the century.”
She smiles before her face turns serious. “I love my sister.”
I reach over and lace my fingers with hers. “I know you do. I’m just not sure she deserves it after the way she turned her back.”
“Don’t say that,” she hisses, pulling her hand from mine. “She’s not the only one who carries responsibility for that.”
It’s the second time, since Taz showed up, Nicky suggests there’s more to her sister’s years of absence. I shake my head, unable—or maybe unwilling—to deal with any more revelations or upheavals. For someone who is usually adept at suppressing emotions, I feel like I may come apart at the onslaught of the past few days.
“We should call the kids, and then you should have a rest,” I offer. “You need your energy for tomorrow.”
A cop-out. I know it and she does too, but she still nods her agreement and I pull out my phone.
“Hey, Kathleen, how are they?”
“Good, all things considered. I haven’t talked to them about tomorrow yet, though. Figured you guys would want to tell them yourselves. They’re just getting ready for bed, let me go get them.”
“Hang on.” I hand the phone to Nicky and see the moment the kids get on the line; her face lights up instantly.
“Hey, baby. How was school?” She smiles chatting with the kids, trying to inject as much normalcy in the chaos of their lives as she can.
This whole fucked-up situation suddenly hits me hard, and I dart into the restroom to try and get myself under control. I’ve never felt so goddamn raw in my life.
When I return to Nicky’s bedside, after taking a breath and splashing some cold water on my face, she looks at me questioningly, but I merely shake my head. Moments later she hands me the phone.
“Hey, Pipsqueak.”
“Hey, Daddy. Mommy says she’s coming home tomorrow, is that true?”
“Yeah, honey. She’ll be home when you come back from school.”
“So she’s all better?”
Jesus, this is torture.
I roll my eyes to the ceiling and take a shaky breath before answering. “She’s still pretty sick, Sofie, but she can’t wait to get home and see you guys.”
It’s quiet on the other end of the line as my all-too-perceptive Sofie processes my response and the fist squeezing my chest goes a little tighter.
“Spencer wants to say hi,” she finally says, her voice dejected.
“All right, honey. You sleep well, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow. Let me talk to your brother.”
“Okay. Love you, Daddy.”
“Love you more.”
By the time I end the call, after a brief chat with my sleepy youngest, I notice Nicky has drifted off, her face deeply lined, and teardrops shimmering on her pale cheeks.
Chapter Three
Taz
“You’re nervous.”
I look up from the kitchen sink where I’m hand-washing the few dishes we used for lunch. Nicky, who’d fallen asleep on the couch earlier, is now watching me.
“A little.”
I’d slept a restful ten hours sprawled out in the king-sized hotel bed last night. Not surprising, since I’ve spent most