Page 7 of Roxy's Independence
“He’s going to do it,” she surmises. “That’s just great.”
“It’s how you know they care,” I reckon. “I’d have loved to have a dad that hovered over me and gave me a hard time.” Emerson skeptically looks at me so I go on to explain, “I was in the system, my foster father couldn’t have cared less what I wore as long as I was there to do the housework and such.”
“Well, I’d happily share my dad with you if you’re in the market,” Emerson says, snorting. “He was the same with all of my friends growing up as he was with me. They found it laughable. I however, did not.”
“I would think not,” I commiserate with her. From there, we make small talk and sign Egypt up for a timeslot. She’s only interested in the painting portion of the program so she’ll only come an hour per day for five days. As we leave, I feel as if I’ve made another lifelong friend.
As we make it back to the cabin, and unload the groceries, we put on our new suits and head toward the lake. Weston and Canyon carted the grill and ice cooler with the sides and drinks down to the shore where we’ll grill dinner while the kids swim and we lounge. I have a book to read while enjoying the sunshine. Weston will most likely get in a little water time with the kiddos between flipping the meat and relaxing at my side. He likes to give us all equal time and attention, but honestly, I’d like some time to myself and one of my favorite authors.
As the day progresses, I’m in a lulled state of bliss. Watching my family brings a sense of comfort to my rough and beaten soul. Once upon a time, I was abandoned at a bus station by the people who were supposed to love me unconditionally, but now, I have a plethora of friends and family who not only care aboutme, but want me. It’s eased that void in my heart, and has filled it to the brim with hope and contentment. When Weston and I separated, I never thought this could be my life. I was focused on my education and making a name for myself in the pediatric and emergency medicine field. The day he came after me was both the best and worst day of my life. I dreaded being in close contact with him daily, and if it hadn’t been for Wrecker and Dragon, we would’ve lived the rest of our days as frenemies. Not quite friends, but not necessarily enemies.
“Doing okay, Foxy?” Weston asks as he plops down on the folding chair beside mine.
“I’m great,” I answer, smiling at him. “How about you?”
“This should’ve been the life we always had, Foxy,” he muses, a small frown marring his face.
“We can’t change the past, husband. All we can do is make sure they have a better childhood than we did,” I express.
“I don’t know if I’d be as strong as they are after losing parents who loved me the way they did them,” he mutters, his tone low and full of aversion. “I hate that this is the hand Fate thought was the right one for them. I’d rather had never met our son than have him go through this heartbreak. He’s still having a rough time, Foxy.”
“I know he is, biker man. Of course, he is, Egypt too. We can’t blame Fate, baby. She brought him back into our lives for a reason. Probably because we’re surrounded by those with gifts that can help him navigate his own.”
“You’re right, I know you are but I hate this, Foxy Roxy. I want to protect both of them from any hurt they’ve faced and will face in the future.”
“I applaud you for that, Weston, but it’s not realistic. All we can do as their parents is show them the right path and hope they follow that road. You’re a good dad, Weston. But we have to give them some berth and let them make mistakes and learn from them.”
He grumbles and grunts, but other than that, he doesn’t say anything in reaction to what I said. “The coals should be ready now, I’m gonna toss on the meat and corn, want anything while I’m up, baby?”
“Another water would be nice, thank you, West.”
He reaches over and kisses the top of my head as he walks to the cooler, grabs himself a beer and me a water. “Heads up,” he calls out as he tosses my water through the air. I have never been a great catcher so when the cold bottle connects with my nose, pain radiates through my head and every nerve in that section of my face explodes. “I’m sorry, fuck, I’m so damn sorry, Roxy.”
Weston rushes over with a roll of paper towels and kneels between my legs. Canyon and Egypt wade through the waves of the lake and rush over to us, when they see me, Canyon rushes to the cooler and grabs one of the baggies we filled with ice and brings it to me.
This is not my idea of relaxing.
Once my bloody nose is under control, I dig in my beach bag and pull out some over-the-counter pain relievers and pop a few into my mouth and swallow them. It wasn’t a hard hit necessarily, but enough to cause a vessel to pop. I don’t bruise easily, so I doubt I’ll have a shiner from this, but I am expecting some tenderness. I keep the ice pack on that appendage until dinner is ready for consumption.
Weston keeps sending me pitiful looks throughout our meal, but other than some slight soreness, I’m fine—which I tell him over and over. When night falls, we hit the shower/changing rooms and get out of our wet clothes then start a bonfire where the plan is to roast marshmallows, catch up with the kids, and become one with nature. These quiet evenings are when they talk to us the most. We hear about their life goals and any problems they’re going through. Most of the time they figure it out for themselves, but they still like to hear our input.
When Canyon opens up and tells us about one of his friends and the horror he’s living with at home, we talk it out and try to lead him on the right way to handle it. As a doctor, I feel it’s best to report this to the authorities, but Canyon worries that if his friend goes into the system, he won’t react well and will most likely become a statistic—a runaway. So we come up with another game plan, one we can’t initiate until we get home. I just hope that this boy and his older brother can handle things until we get our plan smoothed out.
CHAPTER
FIVE
Saber
As fireworks explodeover the lake, I sit back with my family, Roxy in my lap, as a feeling of euphoria engulfs me. I’m glad my stubborn pride took a backseat and I allowed Roxy back into my heart and vice versa. I could still be miserable if I hadn’t. I hid my unhappiness well back then, even though I had a gaping hole the size of a boulder in my chest before she came back and filled it with her infinite love and contagious laughter. Yeah, I all but forced her hand when I went marching into her place and demanded she uproot her life and come with me to the clubhouse to take care of Dragon and Laney’s triplets.
And now, with all of these new kids on the way, I know they’ll have the best pediatric care they could get. My old lady is a rockstar. Each kid born will have a pseudo mother because every child she examines, becomes one of hers. She has a book that has every patient she ever treated’s birthdays, and she sends cards every damn year. I make a mental note now that the topic has invaded my thoughts to have Selah set up some sort of digitalreminder so she doesn’t have to check it at the end of every month and write them out on a calendar.
“What has you lost in thought, babe?” Roxy asks, wrapping her arms around me and snuggling closer.
“Mulling over the fact that I could’ve not had this if I’d continued being a stubborn fuck,” I answer, squeezing her closer to me and burying my head in her neck. “How’s your nose?”
“It’s fine, Weston. The shock was worse than the actual hit, stop worrying so much. I’d tell you if it was anything worse than that. Promise.”
