Page 64 of Hideaway Whirlwind
“How are you related to Trace again?” I ask, the five of us squeezed into the hall bathroom together to get ready for bed.
“It’s a long story,” Elliott says around a yawn that cracks his jaw, helping Kendall brush her teeth.
“And your neck?” I eye his bandage in the mirror.
He takes a shuddering breath and removes his undershirt, then gently peels back the tape holding the bandage together.
I gasp and put a hand over my mouth as I take in his new tattoo as he turns his head to one side, then slowly to the opposite. Inked out in intricately detailed black and gray shading is a huge bear walking along the creek by the cabin with a raven perched on its shoulder, surrounded by four cubs with black feathers worked into their fur. The only color on the whole piece belongs to the eyes—three cubs and the raven are shaded with a variety of amber browns to match mine and the children’s eye colors; the big bear’s are the exact shadeof Elliott’s deep blues; and the fourth cub, the smallest…their eyes are left blank, waiting to be filled in.
“Elliott…” I reach up as he goes still, wanting to trace the ink with the tips of my fingers, before I stop and bring them back to my lips. “It’s beautiful.”
He hooks an arm around my waist. “Tell me again that it’s real, Birdie. That you’ve chosen me. Because you and me, all of us…nothing has ever been more real to me since—” Since Meredith.
“I choose you, Elliott Berenson. It’s real.” I lay my cheek against his upper abdomen as I listen for his steady heartbeat.
Dustin pauses with his toothbrush in his mouth, his eyes flicking back and forth across his papa’s tattoo that spans the entirety of the front and sides of Elliott’s neck. “Cool picture,” is all he says before spitting out his toothpaste, perhaps not understanding the significance of this moment.
Oh, but I do. Us. We’re anus. A family. One of our choosing and making.
In tune with each other, we don’t have to discuss it after everyone gets changed for bed, and we usher the kids into Elliott’s bedroom—my bedroom, now too, I suppose. Even Storm leads her puppies inside, curling up with them in the corner of the room on a blanket Elliott shakes out for them. It’ll be a long time before I’m comfortable with any member of our family sleeping out of my sight.
When I’m snuggled in the bed I never want to leave with the kids in the middle, Kendall sprawled on top of me with her polar bear, Elliott drags the spare mattress and linens into the room, dumping them on the floor, and props a kitchen chair under the doorknob.
I can hardly keep my eyes open when I ask him, “What areyou doing?”
He stops mid-fluff of one of the pillows after strangely giving it a long sniff and a satisfied sigh. “I thought, well, I thought you might not want me sharing the bed with y’all.”
“Come here, Big Papa,” I say, reaching for him.
“Yeah?” he asks in a disbelieving but hopeful voice.
With my nod, he props the spare mattress up against the closed drapes of the bedroom window, then circles the end of the bed three times, indecisive.
I pat the empty spot beside me.
“Tell me it’s real,” he says once more into my ear when he slides under the comforter, lying on his side with his arm thrown across all of us.
“It’s real, Elliott,” I whisper, turning my face to his. “I love you.”
Elliott whimpers, and another thing’s for certain: if the kids weren’t in bed with us, no matter how burned-out we are, we would end the night with a lot more than our simple, quiet kiss.
Elliott
“Still no sign of the mom?” Russell asks when he comes by, delivering groceries, since we’re not comfortable leaving the cabin and going out into the real world yet, in case we’re followed back home. That’s about to change, though, since Birdie has her first prenatal appointment tomorrow, and the kids will be starting school in a few days, now that repairs have been made. Plus, I’ll eventually have to go back to work sincethe warehouse is still behind on deliveries.
I grunt, taking everything out of their plastic bags, keeping the noise to a minimum so Birdie and the kids can sleep in for a few more hours. In my home. In my bed. Where I slept beside them all night for the last five nights. The stuff of my dreams. My longing finally fulfilled.
Russell shoves his hands in his front pockets when a few minutes pass without a word. “Think maybe she was scared off for good? Saw that Teagan and the kids aren’t on their own and fled back to Nevada?”
Birdie suddenly says from the hallway, “She wouldn’t have tracked me to Las Vegas and all the way to Texas to get Sydney back just to give up. I know I wouldn’t.”
Russell jumps and spins, clutching his heart. “Jesus, you scared me.”
“Good,” she deadpans, her arms crossed as she leans against the side of the refrigerator, her hair a mess, barefoot, her curves filling out my flannel that comes down to her knees. Fucking stunning and all mine.
I shoulder past Russell to shelve the twelve-pack of ginger ale into the fridge, stopping to tip Birdie’s chin up and kiss her just because I can. In fact, I can’t keep my lips off her, the kids wrinkling their noses or laughing when they see us. It’s adorable.
“Are you ever going to speak to me again?” Russell asks me with a sigh when I shoo him toward the door, intending to take the kiss further once he leaves.
