Page 80 of Come Back for Me
“No, you’re not listening. I called to tell you about your niece, who is wonderful, and that I’m actually doing well and am happy, but you’re too much of a selfish dick to hear that.”
“This is just like you, you think only about you. What about Sean and Jacob? What are we all going to make you pay for a part of the land that you were going to inherit? Come on. I don’t want that damn farm or any of the land, but we all made a promise never to move back!”
That promise had been the one thing that kept me from talking to him about this. My brothers were the only things in this world that mattered to me, and I love them, but I can’t live my life like this.
“You of all people should know that things change, Dec. We aren’t the same boys we were.”
He doesn’t say anything right away, and I look down at my phone to see if he hung up. “No,” his voice breaks the silence, “I guess we’re not. Tell me about Hadley . . .”
Then I remember that my brother isn’t a bad guy. He’s just protective.
* * *
Hadley comes running to the barn, brown hair up in a ponytail and her nose is bright red from the chill. “Where’s Mom?”
“She went to see Sydney. I’m sure they’ll be talking for hours. Hand me the wrench,” I instruct her while I work on this stupid tractor.
No matter what I fix, replace, or tinker with, the damn thing won’t start. While I would love nothing more than to set it on fire and get a new one, it’s only three years old and should work. It’s a test of wills at this point, and I refuse to give up.
“Do the brown cows make chocolate milk?” Hadley randomly asks.
“Uhh, no.”
“Really because hippopotamuses have pink milk, which is weird. I wonder if it’s strawberry flavored. I used to like strawberries, but one time, I ate too many and got sick.”
These stories might have seemed stupid before, but now, I want to know everything. I’ve worked really fucking hard not to look at Hadley any differently or hug her too tightly. All I want to do is tell her the truth, pull her close, and promise her the world.
I want to make up for the time we’ve lost, which isn’t possible.
“Yeah, I love strawberries.”
“I could love them again,” she says quickly.
I smile. I really love this kid. “What else don’t you like?”
“Ducks.”
My head whips around to stare at her. “Ducks?”
She nods. “Sydney said that we both have anatidaephobia. It’s a big word, I know.”
Sydney is in on this? Great. “And what exactly did Sydney say?”
“Well, she asked me if I liked ducks, and I said, they’re okay but they have weird eyes. And she agreed and told me that you don’t like ducks either, which means I decided that ducks really are dumb. When I told Sydney, she said that you have anatidaephobia. I looked it up, and decided we both have it because I don’t like when they look at me and neither do you. We have a lot in common.”
I’m not sure whether I should laugh or drive to Sydney’s house and leave a hundred fake spiders in her bed and see who laughs then. But then I look at my daughter, who looks like our hatred of ducks has solidified her place in my world, and I don’t care.
“We really do.”
Her beaming smile grows brighter. “Do you know what else I’m afraid of?”
“No, what?”
“The Tooth Fairy.”
I chuckle. “Really?”
“She’s so creepy! Who comes into your room when you’re sleeping and takes teeth? If I could be anything cool, it wouldn’t be that. I’d probably want to be Santa Clause because he gives presents and makes people happy. I like to make people happy. Do I make you happy, Connor?”
