“Bea said ‘fuck’ isn’t a bad word. I’m just not supposed to say it in a way that can hurt someone’s feelings or to anyone at school,” Natalia pipes up from where she’s sprawled on the floor with Cal, Crosby, Leo, Charlie, and Violet. They’re locked in a game of Chutes & Ladders, but are hiding laughs behind their hands as Natalia schools Obie.
A throaty giggle comes from next to me, and I loll my head to see Bea’s eyes sparkle as she looks at my daughter. When Ifollow her gaze, Nat gives her a conspiratorial wink before she goes back to her board game.
“Just what exactly did you teach my daughter?”
Bea startles slightly, either at the question or because she didn’t realize I was awake, I don’t know. But she gives me a mischievous look and twists to lean her side against the couch, drawing her face level with mine.
“She makes a wicked boilermaker now; pours the whiskey heavy and drops it in the pint perfectly. No wasted splash,” Bea begins, her lips curling up in a smile that pulls a matching one from me. “She sketched a fantastic unicorn she’s getting tattooed next week. Found the artist herself on a walk downtown after dark. Shirley is a really nice guy—old-school—you’d like him. He introduced Natalia to some of his biker buddies.”
I bark out a laugh so unexpected and loud the entire living room quiets for a moment. Bea’s eyes widen, the amber flecks lighting warmly. Her hand cradles my cheek, and she gently pulls us together until our foreheads rest against each other.
“I wasn’t sure I was ever going to hear that sound again.” A shudder sneaks up her spine, and her eyes water. I drape my arm over her hip, cocooning us closer as Bea works to blink away the gathered tears before she speaks again. “I’m so glad that didn’t happen.”
“Me too,” I tell her, leaning forward enough to brush my lips across hers. It’s tentative, a search for reconnection, and Bea responds immediately. There’s no inferno, no combustion of lust like our kisses before. Instead, the burn is slower. Deeper. Licks of fire that go beyond the physical slide of her plush lips on mine, but promise a brand I long to wear.
“Uh.” A throat clears, breaking us apart to look at Charlie. He’s standing in front of us, a pink blush mixing with the light freckles on his cheeks. He swishes his finger around in the air.“Figure we’ll get out of your way. Natalia’s won every game anyway, and Gus is snoring.”
A quick glance at the chair shows Gus, head tipped back and mouth open, legs spread wide. Rumbling snores quietly fill the air. Without missing a beat, Obie pulls his phone out and takes a picture.
“That’s going on the fridge,” he comments with a laugh, then unceremoniously knocks Gus’ knees to wake him. Gus startles and looks at us sheepishly with a shrug. He rises from the chair, stretching and yawning before giving a wave and heading to the hallway. Obie trails along behind, and the rest of the group slowly begins to follow his lead.
Crosby and Violet help Natalia clean up the stack of board games. Leo gives a nod as he makes for the entryway. Charlie offers me a hand, and I let him pull me up for a hug. When he steps back, Violet is there, slipping in for a quick squeeze before she slides over to Bea for a longer embrace. The two talk in low voices, words I don’t catch when Cal stands before me.
“Morning skate is open to you whenever you’re ready to come back,” he says. Natalia stands between us, one arm wrapped around each of our legs. There’s a pout on her face, but Cal wipes it away when we look down at her. “And, of course, I need my specialty coach to whip these boys into shape.” He ruffles her hair and bends down to give her a hug and wish her goodnight.
Natalia returns to me as Bea shuffles with everyone to the door. I sit on the couch, opening my arms to her. Eagerly, Nat climbs into my lap, and I am nearly complete with her tucked under my chin. We sit together, listening to the sounds of our friends leaving, quiet and content in a way I’m used to. It’s almost perfect.
The front door closes, soft footsteps sounding in the hall before Bea comes into the living room. She takes us in on the couch, a soft smile pulling at the corner of her lips as she leansagainst the entrance, arms folded under her breasts. She doesn’t cross the room or interrupt in any way. She just gives us this moment. But I feel her support, her affection, and her happiness wrapping around us in a way that makes me wonder what it was like before. How I never noticed she was missing.
The next revelation doesn’t come with the thunderous shaking of my soul, like I expect from watching fairytale movies with Nat. It blooms like a firefly in the summer night sky. Dark one minute, and alight the next, the warm glow cast over those lucky enough to witness it.
I love her.
“Daddy?” Nat pulls my attention to her. I hum in acknowledgment, rocking her in encouragement to continue. “Does your heart beatrightnow?”
Bea’s hand rises to her chest, pressing. I kiss the top of Natalia’s head, angling it so her ear rests over my chest.
“Yes,milaya,my heart beatsrightnow.” I lift my eyes back to the woman across the room. “Maybe for the first time ever.”
“Is she asleep?”Bea asks from the landing.
“Yes,” I reply, quietly closing Natalia’s door behind me. I’m exhausted—again—but being able to put my little girl to bed is worth it. I cross to the banister Bea stands beside and lean heavily on it. Bea’s arms are around my neck in a flash, holding me as she looks into my eyes. Her fingers flutter against my skin, one hand soothing the strands of hair at my nape and the other resting gently on the other side.
“The fatigue is normal. It will get better, but I’ll need to work on it,” I tell her, straightening toward her. I ignore the fading rasp in my throat that has almost vanished. I grasp her wrist gently, pressing my neck deeper into her hold. “Until then, take my pulse whenever you need to if it helps.”
“Sorry.” Bea flushes and tries to pull her hand out of my grip. I don’t let her, wrapping my other arm around her waist, banding her against me.
“Don’t apologize.” I guide her hand to join the other at the base of my skull before running the back of my fingers down her arm to brush them against her smooth cheek. “I trust you with my heart,solnyshka. You and no one else.”
Bea leans into me, her head twisting to lie flat against my chest, and I cradle her there. I want to say three words to her, but it’s not the right time. As much as I want to buy into the philosophy that “there’s no time like the present,” after dying, it’sbecauseof that I know I shouldn’t say anything yet. Dr. Knowles was right to discuss the trauma my injury brings to the surface, but it’s not just me I need to be aware of. It’s the people around me.
Natalia
Charlie.
Bea.
“I should probably go,” Bea mumbles, her tone suggesting she would like to do anything but leave. “Ms. Margaret will be here at six tomorrow morning, so you won’t be on your own for too long. All your discharge paperwork said it’s fine, and Margaret will get Natalia to school so you don’t have to worry about that.”
