12. Hannah

12

HANNAH

S o far, this summer has been the best of my life. After our night by the pool, I waited to see if things would develop into something further or if we’d all go back to the employee/employer relationship. To my utter delight, all three men seemed determined to give me the sexual experience of a lifetime.

Nights when Liddy fell asleep early, we made our way to one of their rooms on the other side of the house. They made sex more than exciting—they created a sexual playground—one where nothing was off limits. Anything I wanted, they found a way to make it happen. Things I’d never even considered became my new normal. Orgasms so powerful they left me seeing stars. Thinking back to the sex I’d known before my silver foxes seemed callous and absurd.

Thank goodness I still had time with them, though summer was moving faster than I thought possible. Living with them was a wild, carefree experience. More than that, it gave me a chance to experience life outside of our rundown home. It gave me time and money to give Liddy the Christmas I wanted to give her, the kind of Christmas she deserved to experience every year.

“Look, Liddy.” Arthur sank onto the squishy mat beside my daughter and pulled out a box from behind his back. “Do you know what these are?”

Liddy’s eyes went wide as saucers. She scrambled into his lap and tore the box from his grasp. Her nails dug into the flaps, a frustrated frown appearing as her tongue poked out between her lips. She shoved the box back toward Arthur. “Open.”

He laughed at the demand and cracked open the seal, dumping the Legos onto the floor in front of them. They were the giant block style perfect for her small hands.

Scott and Ryland were busy building a dollhouse in the corner. I’d told them they didn’t have to buy her more toys, but they doted on her. Spoiled her, if I was being honest with myself. Liddy took it all in stride. She’d been without toys and dolls for so long that every new present sent her into a tizzy of excitement. Part of me worried that receiving so many toys now would ruin the effect on Christmas, but that was something I’d deal with later, if necessary.

“What do you want to build?” Arthur held out two blocks.

Liddy grabbed them both and stacked them together. “A house.”

“You got it.” He handed her blocks and she began to create. He helped when she held up pieces she had trouble connecting.

I pretended to be reading my book, but really, I was watching all three of them interact with Liddy. They were all taken with her. They did so much more than just buy her gifts. They spent time with her, listened to her, and made her feel special. They treated her like I’d always wanted her father to treat her. I’d given up on the idea of finding a man and falling in love. Who had time for dating when I had bills to pay and a toddler to raise? But watching them gave me hope.

Ryland tilted his camera in my direction, asking a silent question. I nodded, and he raised it up, clicking the shutter button at the exact moment Liddy threw her head back and laughed upside down at Arthur.

He’d captured the joy on her upturned face many times these last few weeks. I’d seen his handiwork time and again in photos that took my breath away. Liddy and I both had been smiling more than ever. I felt foolish at times for how often I found myself smiling at nothing in particular.

Another click caused me to turn around. Ryland grinned at me from beside the chair, having snuck up on me while I was distracted. He did that a lot, catching me unaware and snapping pictures of me in my natural state.

“Delete that.” I pointed at him. “You were supposed to ask first.”

“But then I would have missed this.” He spun the camera around to show me the picture. There I sat in the oversized chair, my feet drawn up beneath me. I looked straight ahead, the camera catching my profile and the hint of a smile that creased my lips. Sunlight caught on my exposed skin in a warm glow that accentuated my hair and brightened the blue in my eyes. It was a staggering photo full of raw emotion as I stared at my daughter being treated like a princess.

Ryland turned the camera away and snapped a shot of Liddy throwing her arms around Arthur’s neck as she said, “I like it here.”

Arthur patted her back but was careful not to squeeze her too tight. “I like having you here. You make the house happy.”

“You both do,” Ryland said into my ear. He stood and rejoined Scott. “How’s it going?”

“About as well as a rhinoceros trying to ice skate.” Scott’s sideways cursing that got his point across without the foul language had become legendary. He eyed Liddy, and when she scrambled from Arthur’s lap, skipping across the room to stand in front of him, he melted into a puddle. Liddy had no idea the power she held over these three men.

“Tea party?” She snatched up the cups and saucers and carried them over to the tiny table and chairs they had bought her, taking a seat. Ryland looked from the table, to me, to Scott, and then to Arthur. He took a few more pictures before setting the camera aside.

When no one moved, Liddy stood and popped her fists onto her hips. “Tea party.” She stalked over to Arthur, grabbed his hand, and pulled.

“I’m not going to fit in your chairs, little Liddy.” He’d taken to calling her that last week when Liddy announced that she wanted to always be little.

Her vocabulary grew every day, her sentences becoming clearer.

Liddy considered Arthur, then her table. Her lips pursed. “No chairs.” She plopped onto the floor and shoved her feet beneath the table. “Sit like this. See?” She patted the floor beside her. “Sit.”

Arthur dragged Ryland and Scott over to join them, and the three of them scooted their legs beneath the table as best they could. Their feet stuck out on the opposite side, and when Ryland tried to shift his weight, his knee bumped the table, knocking over the tea pot and several cups.

“Uh-oh.” Liddy bounded to her feet and ran to me. “Made a mess, Mama. Need to clean it up.”

I handed her one of my dusting rags. I’d come in the room to clean earlier and had gotten sidetracked by playtime. “It’s Ryland’s mess. Have him clean it up.”

“Gee, thanks.” He added an extra dose of sarcasm but took the rag from Liddy and wiped it over the imaginary spill. “How’s that?”

“Perfect.” Liddy tucked herself between Arthur and Scott and poured imaginary tea into their cups. “Drink.” She commanded them with the innocent authority of youth and they all obeyed.

The full scope of the scene struck me with a mixture of hilarity and sadness. These three big men being reduced to sit with their feet almost in each other’s laps was a sight to see, the joy they expressed heartwarming. It was the kind of fleeting joy we all knew disappeared. We were not meant to stay here. I kept that in the forefront of my thoughts every single day in an attempt not to get too attached.

I put the book back on the shelf and stood. “I’m going to finish cleaning. I’ll be back in a few hours.”

They all nodded and called out goodbyes, the cheerful and content ring in Liddy’s voice giving me the confidence to leave her to play while I worked. I trusted these men and knew she was safe in my absence.

I still had to earn my keep to provide Liddy with a special Christmas. The memories she was making with the guys were ones to cherish forever. I hoped she’d be able to remember them. Three years old was awfully young to create lasting memories. I had none from that age.

I carried my dust rags to Ryland’s office and worked my way down the bookshelves that covered every spare inch of space. Books on everything from photography to geography lined the shelves. I’d flipped through one of the technical photography books but it all sounded like gibberish to me.

Ryland had the kind of quietly controlled chaos that I’d learned to associate with everything he did. His office reflected those aspects of him. All the books were in place, but his desk was a maze of photos, magazines, and several different cameras. A glass case behind his desk held antique cameras that dated all the way back to the very first camera ever invented. He’d walked me through how it worked, and I smiled at the memory as I opened the door and stretched my hand inside to remove the dust that had accumulated since last week.

My nail caught on the edge of a box, dragging it forward. I yanked to dislodge it, causing it to fall from the shelf and crash to the floor. Pictures spilled out around my feet. “Shit.” I bent to scoop them up. If he had these organized, I’m in deep shit , I thought to myself. I inwardly cursed to expel the anxious energy.

I thought for a moment how to replace the photos. Organized seemed best, so I started a stack of right-side-up photos inside the box. I picked up a bunch that had fallen face down and righted them. Another picture stuck out beneath my toes. I plucked it up and froze. My heart stopped, my blood turning to ice. “It can’t be.” I flipped it over, hoping for a description of the four men in the photo. Blank.

Turning it back around, I squinted and stared hard. Four men and a toddler stared back.

The four men being Arthur, Ryland, Scott, and… my father. The toddler? Me. I recognized Dad’s smile and the yellow dress with sunflowers I wore that hung in the back of Liddy’s closet, waiting for her to grow big enough for it to fit.

What did it mean? My lungs refused to work. Black shutters appeared at the edges of my vision and I pinched my arm until the pain forced air into my lungs.

What was my dad doing with them? How did he know them? My conversation with Arthur weeks ago rushed back. The fourth man, their friend who’d died. His name was Henry. My father’s name . He’d died of a sudden illness, just like my father . It was merely a coincidence, nothing more.

I was imagining things. I couldn’t fathom any other reality.

But the photo .

My tight grip creased the edge, and I almost balled it up in my fist. They knew my dad. They’d met me when I was Liddy’s age.

A horrible thought knocked the breath right back out of me. I stumbled backwards into Ryland’s desk with a thud that rattled my spine.

They used to share women. Oh God. What if?

I worked up enough saliva to swallow the burn of bile rushing up my throat. What if they shared Mom? What if one of them was my father? No. No . Absolutely not. I refused to let my mind wander there but it was too late. The thought slipped through as swift and deadly as smoke.

It wasn’t possible. Mom and Dad met after college when Dad lived in Chicago. The facts I’d been told time and again lined up like perfect little army soldiers.

No way I’d been sleeping with three men who were potentially related to me. I tucked the photo into my pocket and finished cleaning up the mess. When I shoved the box back into the corner, I caught sight of my expression in the glass hutch. I’d turned ghostly white, and my hands shook when I closed the door. I met my reflection with a hard scowl. I didn’t look like any of them.

The picture burned in my pocket. All I had to do was march downstairs, show them the picture, and ask for the truth.

Confusion and fear smuggled its way into my brain, forcing me into silence.