Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

Blythe

I hummed along to Shania singing about feeling like a woman as I moved around the kitchen, finally familiar enough with it to know where everything was—mostly because Rhodes gave me the freedom to move things to make them convenient for me.

Tristan’s kitchen had been nice, but his house was older and closed-concept, making it more difficult to work in because it was cramped and impossible to keep an eye on my kids while I was cooking. I had to constantly stop to check and make sure one of them wasn’t injured or bleeding.

Here, I could see every room from where I was standing at the massive stone island, chopping shallots and mincing garlic for the sauce I was preparing. I couldn’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed. And it helped that my babies seemed to be settling into our new normal.

“Blythe, I told you, you don’t have to cook.”

I jolted at the sound of his voice and jerked around, the chef’s knife in my hand swinging. “Jesus.” I placed my free hand over my racing heart like that might slow it down. “You scared the shit out of me. I didn’t hear you come in.”

He moved forward, his steps hesitant, hands up in surrender as he eyed the knife with a quirked brow. “Clearly. But how about you put that knife down before you accidentally do some damage?”

I scrunched my lips to the side and gave him a baleful look. “Trust me, if I wanted to do damage, I would have. I know how to handle a knife.” To prove my point, I turned back to the cutting board and went to work on the shallot, slicing and chopping it into precise, perfect little pieces before scooping them with the flat of the blade and dumping them into the simmering sauce.

When I turned back to Rhodes, he was grinning from ear to ear. All full lips, white teeth, and dark stubble. “I can see that,” he said, appearing impressed with my knife skills. “And it smells incredible in here. But like I said, you don’t have to cook.”

My son came bouncing into the kitchen, buddying up to Rhodes. “Uncle Tris says Momma is a stress-cooker and it’s your turn to have your freezer stuffed with a year’s worth of leftovers.”

I shot my son a scowl as I silently plotted how I was going to get back at my brother. It couldn’t be something long-lasting or destructive. We weren’t kids anymore, and as adults, that kind of thing was considered assault. I’d have to get creative.

The frown on Rhodes’s face pulled me from my malicious musings. “Stress-cooking?” He took a step closer to me, concern radiating from his amber eyes. “Angel, are you stressed?”

“No,” I assured him. Actually, this was the least stressed I’d been in months. “Okay, yes. I sometimes use cooking as an outlet,” I confessed. “But that’s not what this is. Honestly, I like doing it.” I enjoyed coming up with creative recipes from the stuff in the fridge and pantry. I liked experimenting with flavors. And mostly, I liked feeding my family, seeing the way their eyes flared when they took their first bite of something they really enjoyed. I thrived on my children’s appreciation and enthusiasm for my meals, and now I thrived on Rhodes’s as well. “This is my happy place,” I said, holding my arms out to indicate the kitchen. “I cook because it helps with stress, but also because I want to sometimes. Believe me, if I’m not in the mood, you’ll be my first call to stop on your way home to grab pizza or takeout.”

His eyes flared and his eyelids lowered to half-mast as he stared at me. I had a feeling it was because he liked me calling this place home. It had been a slip-up, but the truth was, the longer we were here, the more it was starting to feel like home. The kids had made the bedrooms their own, decorating how they wanted, and Rhodes had promised he’d take them to the hardware store to get paint and help them paint their rooms whatever colors they wanted. My children were happy. They were finally settled, and despite having Rhodes on my mind so much I was starting to dream about him at night, I was settled too.

The worry faded from his handsome features, and the smile that made my belly flutter returned. “All right. If it’s what you want to do, I get it. Now, tell me how I can help.”

“I want to help too!” Avett declared.

I gave them tasks, and together, the three of us made a delicious meal.

Dinner at the dining table had become the norm at Rhodes’s house over the past week. Every night, we gathered around the long, rectangular table and ate together, filling each other in how our days had been and listening as the kids entertained us. It was nice. Really nice.

Back in Indiana, I tried to make sure we ate together as a family, but it never failed that Elliott would have papers to grade or a reason he had to head back to his office on campus—though, now I knew where he was really going whenever that happened. I’d always loved having dinner with my kids, but there had been an undercurrent of loneliness. That loneliness wasn’t there any longer, and I had a feeling it was because of the man who sat across the table from me every night, no matter how tired or busy he was.

Dinner had gone off without a hitch. As usual, the kids had chattered away, filling Rhodes and me in on all the wild, crazy, exciting experiences they lived through at school and daycare. Given some of their stories, you would have thought they were the Goonies, living through crazy adventures on a daily basis.

After dinner, I got them upstairs and managed to get them bathed, their teeth brushed, and all of them in PJs with minimal fuss. It helped that, since turning nine, Avett had decided he was practically grown now and wanted to do everything on his own. It had broken my heart at first that my little boy was growing so fast and didn’t need me as much as he used to, but I was trying hard not to hold on too tightly and let him spread his wings.

I had to read Ainsley’s favorite bedtime story about a magical princess who rode her magical unicorn around, saving the kingdom from an evil witch—because of course my youngest didn’t want to read about damsels-in-distress, she’d much rather read about the princess saving herself and everyone else—twice before she finally passed out.

I pushed her wild hair back and pressed a kiss to her forehead as I pulled the covers up around her and tucked her in tight. I flipped the switch so the only light in the room came from the fairy lamp on her bedside table and stepped out into the hall. I was about pull the door closed when the click of nails on the floor beside me caught my attention.

Koda’s fluffy tail swished back and forth lazily as she stared up at me with her tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. I let out a little laugh. “I take it this means you’re in here tonight?”

She opened her mouth and panted, and I could have sworn the dog looked like she was smiling. Over the past week Koda had bounced from one room to another, switching which of my kids she slept with each night. Looked like tonight was Ainsley’s turn.

I pushed the door wide, and she skirted past me, her feet soft like she knew she needed to be quiet. She really was the smartest dog. She climbed onto the little twin bed one paw at a time and inched her way up until my baby girl moved in her sleep, rolling over and throwing her tiny arm around Koda’s neck in a hug. In return, Koda let out a pleased doggy huff and nuzzled down, passing out in a second.

I smiled, my chest feeling tight and warm as I took them in for a few heartbeats before heading farther down the hall toward Adeline’s room. She was sitting up in her bed, her most recent book open in her lap, when I walked in. My little thinker had been reading above her class’s level as long as she’d known how to read, and she’d gotten really big into chapter books lately.

“Hey, sweetie. You settled in?”

She smiled up at me softly. “Yeah, Mommy.”

I moved closer, pulling her blankets up and tucking them around her tightly until she started giggling. “You’re making me into a burrito, Mommy.”

“Sure am, snuggle bug.” Once I had her all wrapped up, I sat down on the edge of her bed and picked up the little clock on her nightstand, setting the timer for fifteen minutes. “You know the rules.”

She nodded. “Fifteen more minutes of reading time, then bed.”

“That’s my girl.” I leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “I love you, honey.”

“Love you too, Mommy.”

I stood up and started toward the door when she spoke again. “Mommy?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really happy here.” Her expression grew inquisitive. “Are you happy here?”

“I am,” I answered honestly, my voice thick with emotion at the realization I’d done right by my children by moving them here. “Sleep good, snuggle bug.”

When I got to Avett’s room, he was sitting on the edge of his bed, staring unseeing at the wall across from him. I rapped my knuckle on the doorframe before stepping inside. He blinked his eyes clear and looked up at me, his features drawn together with sadness. “Hey, buddy. Everything okay?”

He lowered his head, his fingers tangling together in his lap. I pushed away from the door at the sound of his sniffle and rushed to him, sitting down on the bed beside him. A single tear fell and dripped down onto his pajama pants. “Oh, honey.” I wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him against me. “What’s going on?”

“Do you—?” He let out a stuttered breath that felt like a dagger right to my heart. “Do you think Dad’s up in heaven mad at me?”

The air whooshed out of my lungs when he tilted his head up at me, his velvety brown eyes glistening with tears. The ache in the center of my chest was a very real, physical thing. “Baby, why would you think he’d be mad at you?”

“Because I realized at dinner that I’m not as sad as I used to be. I don’t want him to think that I’m not sad ’cause I don’t miss him. ’Cause I still miss him.”

“Oh, baby. Of course, you still miss him.”

“Then how come I’m not sad anymore?”

My throat tightened, but I still managed to get out, “Well, that’s because you’re healing. You’ll miss your dad for the rest of your life, and some days you’ll feel sadder than others, but as time passes, your heart heals and you’re able to live your life and be happy and do all the things you did before.”

He sniffled again, wiping his cheeks dry with the back of his hand. “Is it like that for you?”

I smiled, shoving down the anger I still felt at Elliott’s betrayal. As hurt and mad as I was, I would never tarnish his memory. He might have turned out to be a terrible husband, but he’d always been a good father, and I wouldn’t take that away from them.

“Yes, baby. That’s what it’s like for me too. And for your sisters. And I’ll tell you something else I know.” I hugged him tighter. “Your Daddy’s up in heaven right now, looking down on you kids, and he’s so happy you and your sisters are healing. He never liked it when you guys were sad.”

“He didn’t,” Avett agreed. “He always said it made him sad too.”

“Exactly. He’d want you to be happy. The best way you can honor your dad’s memory is to grow up to live a long, happy life full of love and laughter.”

My son’s chest expanded on a deep breath as the sadness in his eyes faded away. “Okay, Momma. I’ll be happy because that’s what Dad would want.”

Lowering my head, I pressed my lips to Avett’s temple and squeezed my eyes closed as I breathed him in. “I think that’s a wise choice,” I finally said when I pulled away. “Now get some sleep, yeah? It’s been a long day.”

He crawled to the center of his bed so I could tuck him in. After another kiss, I flipped off his bedside lamp and started for the door. “I think Dad would really like Rhodes,” Avett said, drawing me up short.

I slowly turned, looking back at my boy from over my shoulder. “Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“Because he’s funny and smart and cool and he makes us laugh,” my insightful son said before showing just how wise he was by adding, “And you weren’t happy for a really long time. Then we came here to live with Rhodes, and you were happy again. If Dad would want us all to be happy, he’d have to like Rhodes, ’cause Rhodes makes you happy.”

I turned all the way around, taking in my son who was no longer a little boy. “I love you with all my heart. You know that? You and your sisters are the most important things in my life.”

He hit me with a snaggle-toothed grin that melted my heart. “Yeah, Momma. I know. I love you too.”