“He’s grounded for the next month,” Chelsea informed me as she followed my gaze to our children, who had their heads close together, whispering back and forth animatedly.
I snorted. “I told Mieke she was grounded until the end of time. It will last the rest of the week…if I’m lucky.” I was a pushover when it came to my kid and we both knew that she could break me and my resolve with something as little as a trembling lip and crocodile tears in her beautiful eyes.
“So…” Chelsea’s blue eyes went to the back of the SUV where Noah and Zander were unloading our cases. “How are you dealing with all of this? Are you really going to let him stay in your house?”
I gritted my teeth. Mieke had made the offer to her father, wanting him to stay with the two of us while he spent some time in Tennessee. She’d been so excited that I hadn’t tried to talk either of them out of it. After all, we’d done well enough staying in Zander’s apartment for the last few days. He’d been the perfect host, giving me his bedroom while he slept on the couch. He’d turned his spare room into a beautiful room for Mieke and she’d been thrilled with it.
We’d actually gotten along pretty well over those few days. We’d talked about Mieke and her many stages up until present. His favorite had been her superhero stage where she would take up for anyone she thought was being bullied. Yeah, that stage had kept everyone on their toes. I’d been called for meetings with her principal so many times that I’d lost count. Each time the grumpy old man had wanted to suspend Mieke, and I’d just laughed in his wrinkled old face, daring him to punish my child for defending not just herself but others who couldn’t.
Zander had been so proud when I’d told him about that time in our daughter’s life, and so our pattern had started. I’d work all day, while father and daughter got to know each other better, and then the three of us would have dinner together. After Mieke would go to bed, I’d stay up talking to Z about her. Telling him all the special things about our not-so-little girl.
I could lie and tell you that I’d only done it for my daughter; that Zander deserved to know all the little things I was sure Mieke wasn’t telling him about herself. But it was more than that. I found myself enjoying our quiet times together. It reminded me so much of how things had been before life had stepped in and sent us both in completely different directions.
“Where are these going, Annabelle?” Noah called as he headed across the large yard that separated our houses.
“Show Zander to the guest room, Noah. Just leave the rest in the laundry room. I need to wash everything in both my cases and Mieke’s.” I glanced back at Chelsea and gave her a quick hug before following after Noah and Zander. “Please tell me you cooked?” I demanded, glancing at her over my shoulder. The other woman nodded and my stomach growled just thinking of one of my sister-in-law’s home-cooked meals. I’d been living off of way too much takeout over the last six weeks or so.
“Come on over around seven,” Chelsea called after me and I waved as I entered my house.
The house was basically spotless. Normally when I was out of town on business, Mieke would stay next door with Noah, but I had a cleaning service come in once a week to dust and vacuum so that I didn’t have to come home to a musky-smelling house. Stopping by the front door, I took off my thin jacket since it was getting chilly out now that fall was sneaking up on us. Toeing off my sneakers, I left my socks on before climbing the stairs to make sure Noah was showing Zander to the guest room.
All three bedrooms were on the second floor. Mine was at one end of the house, closest to the street, and Mieke’s was at the other end. The way Noah’s house was laid out, Ben’s room was right across from Mieke’s, and they usually kept their windows opened so they could talk to each other when they were in their rooms.
The guest room was right in the middle of the upstairs and only slightly smaller than the other two rooms. It had its own bathroom, just as the others did. I hoped Zander would be comfortable in there.
As I stepped onto the second-floor landing, I could hear my brother talking to Zander. The door to the guest room was slightly ajar and it wasn’t like Noah was trying to keep his tone quiet. “You’d better not hurt her again, Z. If I see so much as a single tear in my sister’s eyes—or Mieke’s for that matter—I’ll put a bullet in your head this time.”
I rolled my eyes at the threat in my brother’s voice. He was completely serious and I was sure that Zander knew that. Noah hadn’t changed much in the last seventeen years. Sure he’d grown up, become a good man, but he was still so much like the boy—my big, bad, over-protective brother—I remembered from our youth.
“You don’t have to worry about that, Noah. I’ve got my priorities straight now, man. For me, making Mieke and Annabelle happy is all I want in life. I’m hoping that their happiness will include me being a part of their lives, but I’m willing to take what they are willing to give me.” Zander sounded so serious that my heart actually stopped for a second. “Nothing’s changed, at least not for me. I love your sister, Noah. I will always love her. And my daughter… There is nothing and no one in this world I love more than that girl.”
I didn’t realize that Noah was quiet for so long until he spoke again. I’d been too lost in what Zander had said about still loving me to produce a thought that wasn’t a jumbled mess because I was suddenly a melted puddle of goo. So when my brother did speak again I jumped at the sound of his voice. “Good. That’s real good to hear, bro. But that doesn’t mean I won’t kill you if you hurt either of them.”
“Not gonna happen, dude.” Zander chuckled deeply and after a slight pause so did Noah. When I heard the sound of what must have been the men slapping each other on the back, I moved quickly down the hall to my own room, closing the door quickly.
My heart was racing after hearing Zander confess that he still loved me, my emotions all over the place. I didn’t know how to react to those words—to the knowledge that the man I was pretty sure I still loved—loved me back. I was scared—no, I was fucking terrified—of getting hurt again. I was skeptical, because how the hell could he still love me after all those years apart? But mostly, I was angry. If what he’d said was true, that he loved me—always had and always would—why the hell had he stayed away for so long?
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Zander
I couldn’t sleep.
It wasn’t because I was in a bed I’d never slept in before, in a house I’d only stepped foot in that afternoon. After too many years of touring with OtherWorld, I could sleep anywhere, any time of day. It was something that you learned to do to survive out on the road. Otherwise you ended up a zombie while on stage trying to perform for tens of thousands of fans.
I couldn’t sleep because my head was pulling me in so many fucking directions that I was getting lost inside it. Being back in Tennessee, being in Annabelle’s house, felt…right. This was where I should have been all along. That I hadn’t been, that I’d missed so much time away from the woman I loved—away from our beautiful daughter—made me hate myself in ways my fucked-up head couldn’t understand.
Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, I saw that it was barely after midnight. Annabelle had gone to bed just after ten and Mieke hadn’t been far behind her. Tomorrow was Thursday and my daughter needed to go to school, especially since she’d missed so much of it by going out to California. I’d kissed Mieke goodnight and then gone into the room Annabelle had so graciously given me. I knew how lucky I was that she had let me stay with her. She could have told me to fuck off and get a hotel room, but thankfully she hadn’t. I didn’t know if it was because of Mieke…or if maybe she wanted me around, too.
A man could hope.
A quick shower and then I’d flopped down on the comfortable mattress. I hadn’t moved since. Just lain there staring at the ceiling as so many thoughts ran through my head.
Wanting to see Michelle’s grave was the one that stuck out the most. Maybe put some flowers on my grandparents’, too, while I w
as there. I wanted to tell them and my baby girl how sorry I was that I hadn’t been strong enough to face my mistakes and beg Annabelle for forgiveness—beg for another chance after fucking up so badly seventeen years ago. I wanted Michelle to know that even though I hadn’t gotten to hold her—fuck, I wished I’d gotten the chance to hold her just once—that I loved her just as much as I did her sister.
I wanted to tell my gram that I was sorry I hadn’t been the man she and Gramps had raised me to be. I wanted to beg her for forgiveness for all the things I’d done to mess up so many innocent lives. But what I really wanted was for her to hug me one last time and tell me that even though I’d screwed up, that she still loved me.
My chest started to tighten to the point that I could barely draw in a breath. Tears stung my nose and eyes, but I blinked them away. My OCD was suddenly going off-the-charts crazy, and without realizing it, I started tapping my fingers on my chest. Fourteen. Fourteen. Four-fucking-teen. Why did it have to be fourteen? Why couldn’t it have been three? Why couldn’t it have been nothing? Fuck, I just wanted it to stop. Nothing had ever helped. Not the meds that I’d been given as a kid, not the therapist I’d tried when everything felt like it was so fucking out of control.
The only thing that had ever helped was Annabelle. For seventeen years I’d been without her and suffered through one out -of -control -OCD episode after another. The world probably thought I was insane. I’d have to agree with them.
Gasping for breath, I jerked out of bed and stumbled across the room. With shaking fingers I managed to open the door and went straight to the closed door of Annabelle’s bedroom. I didn’t knock. There was no time. I needed her. Now.
As soon as I was inside her room, the scent that was so uniquely her own filled my nose and some of the tightness eased in my chest. Not nearly enough to calm me. Moving forward, I headed straight for her bed in the middle of the room.
Before I could reach it, Annabelle gasped and pushed herself up on the bed. Reaching for the lamp on her nightstand, she quickly snapped it on, her eyes searching the room frantically until they landed on mine. “Z?” Her voice was overflowing with concern and I fell to my knees beside her bed. I buried my face in the comforter, hiding the tears that I could no longer keep at bay. My hands clenched her covers and I swallowed back one sob after another.
Soft, soothing hands stroked through my hair. “Z, what’s wrong?” she whispered. “You’re scaring me.”
That was the last thing I wanted to do. Lifting my head, I let her see my tears as I tried to find my voice to tell her what I needed. “I want… No, I need to see Michelle’s grave.”
Her eyes widened. “Now?”
My throat was closing up again so I nodded. Annabelle’s hand moved from my hair to cup my jaw, scruffy with a day’s worth of beard. “Are you sure?” I nodded again and her eyes filled with understanding. “Okay. Let’s go. Get dressed and meet me downstairs.”
Scrubbing the back of one hand over my face, I stood on shaky legs and hurried back to my room. I grabbed the first thing I saw, jeans and a white tank. It was probably chilly out, but I didn’t waste time by looking for a jacket in my luggage. I pulled my boots on without bothering with socks and then quietly descended the stairs.
Annabelle was already waiting there. She was in sweats and a hoodie with a large throw folded and draped over her arm. She had her keys in her other hand and her purse tossed over her shoulder. She lifted a finger to her lips as soon as I reached her. “Mieke will be okay while we’re gone, but if she wakes up before we leave she’s going to want to go with us. It’s always harder on me to visit Michelle when Mieke is with me,” she murmured quietly.
I nodded and followed her into the garage. A new red Tahoe was parked beside a cute, girly Jeep that I knew was Mieke’s. She’d told me Noah had bought it for her for her sixteenth birthday. Guilt and something else—pure, agonizing jealousy—churned in my stomach. It should have been me who had given Mieke her first vehicle. It should have been me buying her everything she needed, wanted, and spoiling her rotten.
Annabelle climbed behind the wheel of the Tahoe and opened the garage door, and then started the large SUV. I climbed in on the passenger side and she shot me a grim smile before backing out. Once she was on the street, she hit the button to close the garage and turned in the direction of West Bridge.
Neither of us spoke for the longest time, but with each minute I didn’t say anything, I saw her tense a little more. Blowing out a sigh, she glanced at me once before turning her eyes back to the nearly empty road. “I sold your old truck. It broke down on the highway one day when I was on my way to one of my doctor’s appointments. So I had Noah sell it to some junk yard that used it for parts.”
I didn’t know how to respond to that, and I didn’t think she really wanted me to. She just needed to talk, so I let her. All the way down to West Bridge she talked about random things. Like how Mieke had dared her to put the hot-pink streaks in her hair, but the joke had been on Mieke when Annabelle realized she liked the streaks and continued to get them touched up every month.
I was so enthralled with what she was saying that I was surprised when Annabelle pulled to a stop in a church parking lot. Reluctantly I turned my eyes away from Annabelle’s profile and looked out the windshield at the graveyard just beyond the church. I knew this place well. I remembered standing here, holding Annabelle’s hand when she buried her father, and her doing the same when my mother had died of breast cancer. I remembered coming here and watching as my grandmother had been lowered into the ground beside her daughter and doing the same just a few weeks later with my gramps.
Somewhere out there in that graveyard was my baby girl.
I closed my eyes and sucked in several deep breaths. When the passenger-side door opened, I snapped my eyes open and found Annabelle standing there, holding out her hand to me. Her eyes were so sad, glazed with tears that mirrored my own. “They say the first time is always the hardest,” she assured me. “And I wish I could tell you that each time gets a little easier, but honestly for me, it never has.” She lowered her eyes to the blanket draped over her arm, but still held out her hand, waiting for me to take it. “I usually bring a blanket and spread it on the ground beside her headstone. I lie there and put my hand over where I think she is resting and pretend I’m rubbing her back.”
A tear spilled from her right eye and the sight unglued me. I jumped down from the SUV and wrapped my arms around her. I hugged her against me, wanting to take away all the pain that I’d seen in her blue eyes. Quietly I closed the door and lifted her into my arms, tucking her head against my chest. I remembered where her father was buried, and since she’d told me she’d put Michelle next to him, that was the direction I started walking.
It didn’t take long to find what I was looking for. There was plenty of light coming from the church’s parking lot and the moon was shining brightly, as if offering both of us comfort that night. Carefully, I placed Annabelle on her feet and took the large throw from her. I spread it over the ground right beside the little headstone that read:
Michelle Anna Cassidy
Beloved Angel Who Will Forever Be In Our Hearts
The date of her birth was the same date of her death. If I’d thought seeing my daughter’s grave would help me in any way, I was wrong. Devastatingly wrong. My knees buckled and I fell onto them beside the headstone. Bowing my head, I let my tears fall freely.
Annabelle left me to my grief for several minutes, as if she knew that I needed the time to myself. But then she knelt beside me, her head resting against my arm and her soft fingers entwining with mine. Having her there, offering me the comfort I hadn’t given her when she had needed it the most, shamed me, but I didn’t pull away from her. I needed her. Needed this.
Still holding onto my hand, she leaned forward and touched her free hand to the ground where I was sure Michelle rested in her casket. “Hey, sweet girl. Sorry I haven’t been to see you in a few weeks. Work got a little craz
y, but Mommy’s home now. I won’t be going away again for a while.”
It didn’t surprise me to hear Annabelle talking to the little girl buried there. Neither did the pure love I heard in her soft voice. What surprised me was the peace that washed over me from watching and listening to her. A small smile tilted at her lips as she continued to speak to our daughter.
“Mieke has been sneaky, but I guess you already know that. She talks to you more often than I do. Did you watch over her while she flew out to California?” She laughed a little shakily, but it was oddly filled with joy. “You’re such an amazing angel, watching over your sister like you do. I can never repay you for taking care of her for me.”
A few more tears fell from Annabelle’s eyes, but she didn’t pause as she continued to speak to Michelle. “I brought someone to meet you tonight. I think you’ve been on his mind a lot lately because he couldn’t even wait until morning to come here to see you.” Her fingers tightened around mine, offering me comfort in that little squeeze. “He’s your daddy, baby. And I know he loves you just as much as I do.”
Annabelle lifted her head then and I met her gaze. I lifted my hand, wanting to wipe away her tears, but she stopped me. “No. Don’t ever wipe away a tear that is for Michelle.” She swallowed hard once, twice, and then tried to smile. “I’m going to walk back to the SUV and give you two some time to catch up. You can talk to her if you want. It’s what brings me comfort. But you can just lie here and be close to her. Whatever helps, do it.”
She wrapped her arms around my neck, burying her face in my neck for nearly a full minute before releasing me and getting to her feet. I watched as she walked back to her vehicle and was safely inside before turning my attention back to my daughter’s grave.