Page 81 of Tank
I nodded, feeling a weird churning in my gut. I may not have agreed with it, but I could see it from her point of view. And just like that, the huge weight and anger I’d been carrying around all these years towards my dad just fell away. I no longer hated him for that one thing and that meant that I had no bad memories of him.
“They’re here,” Axe called out, thankfully ending the conversation. Mom quickly snatched the cookies out of the oven so they wouldn’t burn, then followed me out to the living room.
“Dad!” Logan screamed as I opened the door and he came running across the yard with Darcy trailing behind him at a much slower pace.
Hearing that one word did me in and the tears streamed down my cheeks. I knelt down, just in time for him to jump into my opened arms and I held onto him as tight as I could. I never wanted to let him go again.
“I missed you, buddy,” I said, smoothing down his big curls.
“I know,” he said with much excitement in his voice. “Dya!” he yelled as he looked over my shoulder. My heart shattered then put itself back together again. “I told you I’d see you again!” The smile on his face matched my own.
I turned my head to look at her. She stood there, her stoic stance contradicted the tears in her eyes. Her eyes were locked on Logan and I hadn’t realized until that moment how hard my little boy had gotten to her. She couldn’t deny how much she cared about him as her body sagged just the tiniest bit as she let out a sharp, relieved breath.
Right then I knew the fucking world was right and nothing could ever change that. With that one look that passed between them, the last few pieces of my life clicked into place.
Axe’s hand made its way into my vision as he put it on Dya’s shoulder and gently gave her a push forward. I let out a harsh laugh and tried to swallow back some of my emotions.
I stood, Logan in my arms. Damn, the kid felt heavier than I remembered. Maybe I’d just become weaker. Either way, it reminded me that I’d had too much time taken away from him and I vowed to never let that happen again.
Since she wasn’t moving fast enough, I took three huge steps to her. She crashed into us, giving me my happy mushy moment that I wouldn’t forget as long as I fucking lived. Logan’s free arm wrapped around her neck, pulling her in tighter.
“Did grandma make cookies?” Logan blurted out, obviously smelling the baked sugary smell in the air.
We all barked out a laugh as I set him down on his feet. He went running up to my mom, who was flanked by Cresta and Veda. Mom took his hand as he dragged her through the house towards the kitchen.
My hand slipped into Dya’s as I looked down at her.
“Stay?” My question came out like an airy plea and I was desperate for her to say yes.
“Come,” she said squeezing my hand and smiling up at me as she pulled me along to follow the others. Darcy brought up the rear, not even fazed that Logan had gotten all the attention.
Though Dya didn’t answer, I knew she wasn’t going anywhere. Fuck yes!
Nadya
“Mom?” Logan yelled as he bounded down the stairs and into the living room, his long curls bouncing wildly around his face.
“Yeah, bud?” I called out, trying to catch his attention before he went tearing through the house in search of me.
“I can’t find my blue button-up shirt,” he said, with a mix of frustration and panic in his ten-year-old voice.
“Did you look in your closet?” I called after him as he took off for the laundry room.
“Yeah.”
“Logan,” I said with a bit of a warning in my voice.
“Yes, ma’am,” he corrected himself.
I headed up the stairs, knowing exactly where the shirt was, having a huge feeling that if he had looked in his closet that he hadn’t looked hard enough. And sure enough, there it was between the green one and the white one where I’d put it. I couldn’t help but chuckle to myself.
I held up the hanger just as he rounded the corner into his room at a speed as fast as a cheetah.
“Shit,” he said then quickly clamped his mouth shut.
I shot him a warning glance even though I knew it wouldn’t do any good. Between Noah and I, every other word was pretty much ones that kids shouldn’t hear, let alone say. I’d given up on even trying to filter myself or get Noah to do the same. I guessed I couldn’t complain because he was pretty good about keeping those words inside of the house. For such an energetic—and at times spastic—boy, he knew how to hold it together when we were out in public. So as much as I should have been a parent and scolded him for his slip up, I just couldn’t.
“Angel?” Noah called out from across the hall.
