Page 64 of Goose

“Lilah listen-”

“No. You fucking listen. I am done. I don’t even want to be here anymore. I don’t even want to be around my own kids. I wanted that baby so bad, Bambi. So fucking bad!”

Tears spurt from her eyes and Willow and I both rush over to console her. Willow stands and makes a cup of tea for her while I rub her back.

We stay silent until Mama Crawford comes in and looks around. She moves around the kitchen and then pats Willow and me on the arms.

“You two go now. I’ve got this handled. Go on now.”

We get up and head down the hall toward the playroom. Lilah needs her mom right now, and the kids need us.

The front door opens and then slams. We both know that they’re heading to Mama Crawford’s cottage for some alone time.

It makes me ache for my mama. When times get tough, you should always be able to run to your mama. Lilah is in safe hands...

––––––––

AFEW HOURS GO BY WHENMama Crawford calls Goose.

“Hey there, baby. Lilah is going to stay the night at my house. You and Bambi stay there to help with the kids. Striker is grieving too, you understand?”

He nods, “I do, mama. Take care of her and let us know if you need anything. I’ll have some guys outside to watch you two. There’s still danger out there.”

“I know, dear. I love you.”

“Love you too, mama.”

He hangs up and turns to Willow and Maverick. “Now what do we do?”

Willow gets up and picks up Ophelia. “Now we take care of Striker. He needs us. I’m going to clean. Bambi, you wanna make dinner?”

“Of course. You boys can watch the kids while I cook.”

We both stand and do what needs to be done. I find some ground beef and pasta and get to work. Striker comes in and just sits at the kitchen table while I cook.

I keep my eye on him but don’t say a word. I hum a song as I make dinner. Goose and Maverick come in with the kids and help set them up at the table.

Willow comes down the stairs to help finish dinner. Once it’s done, we all sit down to eat. Striker just sits at the head of the table, not saying a word.

We all eat, and then Willow and Mav grab the kids to bring them to bed. All the little ones say goodnight as they march up the stairs.

Goose and I silently clean up as Striker still sits at the table, staring blankly into space. I clean up around him before getting him a glass of Mama Crawford’s lavender lemonade.

As I’m washing the dishes, Goose comes up and leans on me.

He whispers to me, “I don’t know what to do about him, babe.”

I softly kiss him on the cheek before looking up into his eyes, “I do. Let me handle it.”

Walking over, I place the glass in front of Striker, then sit next to him.

“How are you doing with all of this?”

He looks up with such a sadness in his eyes. Striker just shrugs and takes a small sip from the glass.

I take his hand in mine and take a deep breath. I know I’m going to have to open up to get to him.

“It’s hard to process the emotions. But you just have to let your heart feel what it feels, Striker.”

---