Page 34 of Milk & Cookie

VINCE

The old homestead is gorgeous. A bit overgrown and rundown in places, but the house has good bones, the orchards are lush, the huge gardens are a barely tamed wilderness of heavenly scents and colors, and the very feel of the place warms my heart and my bones.

“It’s beautiful, Freddie.”

She beams at me. “I know. I pinch myself every morning, to believe how lucky I am.”

I follow her to the slanting wooden gate, and she uses what looks like all her strength to heave it upward while she opens it. The upper gudgeon pin is loose, so the opposite bottom corner of the gate digs into the ground if it’s not lifted.

“Close it after yourself,” Fred says, walking on ahead. “There are chickens everywhere, and it’s no joke when they try to cross the road. There was a mass murder by stock-truck last spring, and Morrissey cried every night for a month.”

“Got it.” I lift the gate off its gudgeons, grip the top one, and screw it more deeply into its post before setting the gate back on its hinge pins, to make sure it opens and closes smoothly before I shut it. I turn back up the path and see Fred watching me with a strange look on her face.

“Did you just screw that hinge into a solid-wood post with your bare hands?” Her tone suggests it wasn’t the right thing to do.

“Was that not okay?” I look at my hands. They’re a bit pinker, but I didn’t do any damage. Did she want me to wear gloves to protect my skin? Or is this not about looking after myself the way I’d look after her? Is it something else? Did I overstep? “Should I have asked first?”

Her eyebrows knit together. “Yes. But also” — she looks at me sideways — “what’s it like, being that ridiculously strong?”

My cheeks warm, and I shrug. “I haven’t really known any different. I like to use my strength to be helpful when I can, but I don’t really get to use it much. Unless I’m doing something that warrants muscles, I spend most of the time tempering it. It’s kind of a fun challenge — it keeps me busy and out of trouble. Mostly.” I sweep my gaze over her at a leisurely pace, loving the way she looks in her home environment.

“Huh.” She nods and waves for me to follow her. “It’s good that you like that kind of challenge.”

I take a few longer strides to catch up, and then match her shorter ones. “Why?”

“Because you can’t do anything too strongman-like in front of my mom. It’ll freak her out.”

She doesn’t say more, so I ask again. “Why?”

She turns to face me and sighs. “My dad used his strength the wrong way, and it left her wary of men. She won’t be excited you’re here.”

I stop where I am. “He hurt her?”

“He did,” she says. “Too many times. And he evaded justice, which is why we’ve had to continually start over in new places. He couldn’t let her go, but moving here, we’ve made it as close to impossible as we can for him to find us. It’s a big country, so hopefully, he never will again, but that hasn’t stopped us from looking over our shoulders for the last nine years.”

A chill runs through my veins.

She heads up the front steps to the house, but I stay where I am, because this all-female family is making a lot more sense now, and I don’t want any of them thinking I’ll do anything but protect them from harm. I wish I’d been there, to…

Another awful feeling creeps over me, and bile burns at the back of my throat. “Fred?”

She pauses with her hand on the door knob.

“Did he hurt you?” The words come out in a growl, and she slowly turns and walks down the steps, until we’re at eye level.

“Vincent Monaghan, if you don’t un-ball your fists and wipe that murderous look off your face this instant, you will not set foot inside this house. What did I just tell you?”

I step back, force my hands to open, and rub my face, to break up whatever vengeful malice may linger in my expression. “That’s not an answer, Freddie.”

“And it’s my choice not to give you one,” she says, advancing. “Do you want to speak to me in that tone again? Is it your way of telling me you’re leaving?”

I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I just… The thought of…” I’ve seen too much violence in my work, not to think of her being hurt, but I do my best to block these kinds of thoughts. They’re not going to help this situation. I will be calm like she needs me to be, until I leave, and then I will find the asshole and make sure my angel will never be at risk from him again.

With that plan in place, it’s much easier to lose the tension in my body, but I can only hope it’s not too late. “I’m sorry you and your mom went through that, Fred.” In a bid to convince her I’m not a threat, I shrink myself as small as possible, but that never fucking works properly for someone my size. “If you think I’m too scary to be here, then I’ll leave. I know I can seem intimidating, and I have wished so many times that I didn’t. I can’t help the way I look, but I’ll do a better job of controlling how deep my voice gets when I’m upset.”

Fred doesn’t look swayed.

I swallow the lump in my throat, because this isn’t how I want to leave things. I wring my hands together, and then fish my pictures out of my back pocket and hold them out to her. “These are for the girls. I um… I did one for Ravee, too.” I hang my head and take another step back. “I know that sounds stupid. She doesn’t know who I am, and she’s too little to understand, but I didn’t want Lulu and Morrissey to think I forgot her or didn’t want to include her, and I—” I shake my head. “If you could tell them I was really looking forward to seeing… That maybe I’ll see theirs…?” I look to her for assistance with finishing my last phrase, terrified she’ll say never.

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