Buried dreams, p.7
Buried Dreams, page 7
part #1 of Dreams #3 Series
“I’m going to the kitchen to make myself a coffee,” she snaps, “or am I not allowed to walk in my own house?” She’s wearing beige linen pants, a white tank top, and a long peach sweater that hangs to her knees. Her hair is pinned on the top of her head. “Someone is crabby this morning.”
“I’m not crabby.” I slip my feet in my sneakers. “I just thought you were going to make a run for it.”
“You’re safe for today,” she assures me, pouring coffee in a mug and then putting some in a stainless-steel cup. “Now, tomorrow is another story.” She hands me the to-go cup.
“We’ll see.” I grab the cup from her. “I’ll see you later.” I kiss her cheek before I walk out of the house.
The walk to the bakery takes even less time today since I’m speed walking, especially in front of the garage. I don’t even look to see if his truck is there. Last night was one of the biggest mistakes I’ve made, and it’s not going to happen again.
I’m almost at the bakery when I notice two guys hanging around out front. One of them tries to open the door, while the other one looks in the window. They are both dressed in jeans, T-shirts, and baseball caps low on their heads to hide their faces. I wait a second to see one of them tell the other to go to the back. He takes a couple of steps toward the back when he looks up and notices me.
The scar on his left cheek makes shivers run down my spine; his blue eyes almost look like he is looking right through you. “Can I help you?” I ask them when I’m standing in the parking lot.
“Um.” The one at the door fumbles with his words, and I look at him. He’s shorter than the other guy, but not by much. The man at the door has brown eyes, and when he smiles, there is nothing friendly about it. “We heard this is the place to get some coffee and donuts.”
“It is.” I look around, wondering if anyone is going to see if something happens to me. The street is pretty much empty with just the three of us. “But we open in about an hour,” I tell them. “You are more than welcome to wait.”
They share a look. “We’ll be back,” the man who was going to walk in the back says, nodding at the other man, who shares a nod with him, and the two of them walk over to a black car. I watch them get in and drive down the street. My eyes go to the license plate as I take my phone out and take a picture.
“You are being paranoid,” I tell myself, putting my phone into my back pocket before I open the front door. The sound of a car approaching has me looking up to see if they have returned, but instead, it’s Harmony, who is parking right in front.
“Morning,” she greets when she gets out of the truck. “How are you?”
“Good,” I reply. “What kind of cakes do you have for me today?” I put the two men in the back of my mind and go on with my day.
Chapter Nine
BROCK
I grab my cup of coffee at the same time as the phone starts ringing with a FaceTime call from Saige. Propping it against one of the walls in front of me, I slide it to the right and wait for her face to fill the screen. The smile on my face goes even bigger when I see she’s waiting for me. “Good morning,” I say when we connect.
“Morning, Daddy.” Her voice is so chipper today; it usually is when it’s at the end of her week at her mother’s place, and she knows that at the end of the day, we are going to be seeing each other. I can see she’s not in bed this morning, but instead, she’s sitting at the island in her mother’s house, eating or just finished eating.
“How are we doing?” I ask and see Karla in the background going back and forth.
“Good,” she replies. “I’m going to school now. Are we having pizza tonight?”
“We can,” I answer her, “but if we have pizza tonight, then we have to cook tomorrow.”
She groans, thinking she would have gotten pizza tonight and then also tomorrow since Saturday was declared pizza night since she was five. “We can have it two nights.”
“We can,” I agree with her, “but we won’t.” She throws her head back and almost snorts while she rolls her eyes. “So you let me know tonight.”
“Fine,” she pouts. “I have to go brush my teeth.”
“Okay, baby girl, love you, and I’ll see you tonight, yeah.”
“Bye, Daddy.” She waves at the phone while I blow her a kiss, and she disconnects.
The guys start to trickle in one at a time today. It’s always slower on Fridays because they usually have drinks at the bar on Thursday night. “Hey,” they say when they walk past me.
I wait until they are all in before turning on my stool. “Happy Friday.” I take a sip of my now cold coffee. “We have a busy day. We have fifteen oil changes. All of the slips are already done and hanging on the board.” I point over at the board. “Switch them up. I don’t give a shit.”
“You did all the slips?” Tony asks me with his feet spread, his arms over his chest, and his eyebrows pinched together in confusion. It’s no secret I hate paperwork. I just don’t give a shit, and I know I need to keep up to date on it if I’m going to pay my mechanics, which is why I make a point to make sure everything is up to date every second Friday before Saige comes home for the week. “For the oil changes?”
“Yeah.” I nod. “Got in early today and did some paperwork.” I look over at Ryan. “Mr. Bills is coming in to get his Camaro today. I assume it’s all ready.”
“Yup,” he confirms, “we finished installing the dashboard yesterday after you gave us the transmission.”
“Good. Let’s get today over so we can have a nice weekend. Who is on call this weekend?” I look at everyone, and they all point at Eddie, who holds up his hand.
“Don’t forget to transfer the line,” I remind him. “We forgot to do it last week. Got a knock on the door at eight a.m. on a Sunday to check Mr. Mendelson’s car.” As the only mechanic shop in town, we used to be open seven days a week, but I changed that when I took over. We work Monday to Friday, and on weekends, we only come in if there is an emergency. Every weekend, we take turns being on call. I do it only when I don’t have Saige, but then again, when I don’t have her, I’m usually in the garage both days anyway.
The bell rings over the door, and I look out. “Let’s get moving.” I get up and walk out to the front and see Brady standing there in the waiting area. He’s Autumn’s brother, and the two of them run the bar and the whiskey distillery. “Hey,” I greet him, and he looks up from his phone.
“Hey,” he returns, “I’m bringing in the truck to get looked at.” He hands me the keys to his red truck. “It pulls to the left. I think Harmony hit a curb, but she’s refusing to admit it.”
I chuckle. “We’ll get it looked at, and I’ll call you when it’s done.”
I walk over to the desk and pull out a work order, writing his name on top and then the issues. “Anything else we should check while we have it?” I look at him, and he shrugs, making me laugh before walking out and making his way over to the bakery. I watch as he pulls open the door, my eyes looking inside to see if I can see her. But the way the sun hits the door is like a mirror, so I see nothing. Which is just as good. The last thing I want to see is her.
Turning and walking to the back, I place the work order with the keys on the board under Tony’s name. I walk over to my bench and sit down to continue taking apart the transmission I started working on this morning when I showed up at the ass crack of dawn. Or even before that, fuck, the sun wasn’t even up when I came in. Picking up the screwdriver to start taking it apart, I allow my mind to drift back to last night even though I have forced myself not to think about it.
I fucked her against a fucking tree. The thought makes my cock stir in my pants. I don’t even know what came over me. One second, I was telling her how much I hated her. The next, I was fucking her into the goddamn tree. I don’t think I’ve come as hard in my life as I did when I came in her. Another fucking mistake since I wasn’t wearing a fucking condom. She’s the only one I’ve ever not worn protection with. Even with Karla, I was wearing a condom, but it broke, and then my life changed in more ways than one. Even when we were married, we never, ever did it without. I think it’s one of the reasons she hates me. She knew I would never fully give myself to her. I wasn’t a hypocrite about it. She knew going in I had zero feelings for her, and she also knew I didn’t know if I ever would. I had to be honest with her, and I was, but she refused to listen to me, thinking she could change me. Thinking eventually she would get in there, but we both knew she wouldn’t.
I work through lunch, and I only look up when the bell sounds over the door, and I hear Saige’s voice. “Daddy!” she shouts, and I smile as I turn on my stool, seeing her stick her head in the garage. “Can I come in?” She looks around to see if she can come in, something I taught her when she was five to make sure she didn’t get hurt.
I get off my stool and walk toward her, and she bounces on her feet as I get closer to her. She lunges herself into my arms when I’m close enough, and I wrap my arms around her as she wraps her arms around my neck. “Daddy.” She giggles when I kiss her neck and tickle her with my beard as she tries to lift her shoulder to stop me.
“Hey, baby girl.” I walk into the waiting area, where Karla walks in with Saige’s bags in her hand. Her long brown hair flows in the wind as she pulls open the door.
“Hey,” she mumbles to me as I put Saige down. “Here are your bags, Saige.” She’s holding out her backpack from school and then the little travel case she likes to take between houses.
Saige walks over to her, grabbing the bags. “Give me a kiss.” She bends, and Saige gives her a hug. “I’ll call you later,” she tells her, and Saige just nods. “I want to talk to Daddy for a second. Go wait in his office.”
I wait for her to walk by me as she leaves the bags there by the desk and goes to my office. I wait until she is out of earshot before I turn back to Karla. “I don’t think it’s a good idea having dinner with her in the middle of the week.”
It takes everything I have in me not to roll my eyes at her. “Why is that?”
“It throws her routine off,” she tries to say, “confuses her.”
“She’s almost nine. She knows the days of the week, and she knows when we do the exchanges.”
“I still don’t like it.” There it is. She doesn’t like it, so we can’t do it.
“If you like, I could go to my lawyer and ask to have the custody decree revised to include one visit during the week. If you want, I’m more than happy for you to do the same during my week.”
“Why do you have to be like that?” she asks. “It was working until now.”
“I’m not saying it’s not working well. I’m just saying I would like to have dinner with her during the week when she isn’t with me. Why are you busting my balls about this?”
“Trust me, the last thing I want to do is bust anything when it comes to you,” she hisses. “Been there, done that, over it.”
“Glad to know.” I shake my head. “She’s going to be old enough to decide where she wants to go when she wants to go. Wouldn’t it be better if we weren’t at each other’s throats?”
“Whatever, Brock,” she says, walking past me and sticking her head into the office. “Bye, baby, I’ll call you tonight.”
“Bye, Mom,” she replies, and I hear the squeak of the chair she’s sitting in before her mother storms out without saying goodbye to me.
I put my hands on my hips and look up at the ceiling before walking into my office. I see Saige sitting in my chair, going around and around in a circle while she watches something on the iPad I keep here for her. “I’m going to close up, and then we can head out,” I say, and she nods, continuing to spin.
I clean up my hands and check in with everyone before I walk back to get her. “Let’s go,” I urge her. She puts her iPad in the drawer and then skips over to me. I pick up her bags before placing them in the truck and opening the back door. “Get in.”
“Dad, cupcake.” She points at the bakery.
“It’s Friday,” she reminds me. “We get cupcakes on Friday.” She puts her hand in mine and pulls me toward the bakery.
“Um, how about we go for ice cream instead?” I offer, hoping she changes her mind but knowing she won’t. It’s the first time I hate that she’s stubborn like me.
“Cupcakes, Daddy.” She smiles at me, and I close my eyes, my feet walking toward the bakery with her. I’m hoping Everleigh left already, and she’s not there. Or they sold out of cupcakes so the display case is empty, and we can just walk out and not have to talk to or see anyone. “Please, Daddy,” she pleads.
“Anything for my girl.” I walk with her, her hand in mine, listening to her tell me about her day. But the whole time, I’m thinking about what is going to happen when I pull open that door. We get to it, and I reach out and pull it open. “Here we go,” I mumble, not even sure why I’m so nervous. “Cupcakes, and we leave.”
Chapter Ten
EVERLEIGH
I take a picture of the cupcakes on the stand and upload it on the Instagram page I created for my mother three years ago. A page she hasn’t kept up with since the last post, which was exactly three years ago. I’ve been taking over the social media since I’ve been in town, and it’s grown a ton. I even had one of the reels I created in the morning making the donuts go viral, and a couple of people have reached out and asked if we ship out.
I’ve even been on Pinterest at night while I’m in bed, coming up with different ideas to spruce up the place and bring the dreary to pop and sunshine. Maybe paint the walls a different color. Put some pictures up from over the years. Put up some little trinkets to make it feel more homey. Maybe put in a couple of tables by the window so they can grab a coffee or even a slice of cake.
I’m posting the picture when I hear the front door open, and then a child’s voice calls, “Daddy, they have cupcakes.” I smile at her animated voice as I walk out of the back and to the front.
I stop mid-step when I see Brock coming into the door, my eyes going to the little girl standing at the display counter. “Look, Daddy, they have my favorite.” She points at one of them, and all I can do is stare at her. My chest feels like an elephant has just stepped on me, crushing my breathing. I can’t help but stare at her, my eyes getting so dry as they burn to stay open, so I blink them furiously. “We can even get some for tomorrow,” she suggests happily, and the only thing I can think is she has to be the most beautiful little girl I’ve ever laid eyes on in my life. She looks exactly like Brock but with feminine features. She looks exactly like the daughter I always thought we would have.
“Hello,” I force out, hoping my voice doesn’t crack when I get to the counter.
“Hi,” she says, “is Ms. Maddie not here?”
I shake my head as the lump forms in my throat. “Not today.” I clear my throat in case it stops working. “What can I get you?” I don’t look up at Brock, not wanting him to see how this affects me. Even though I think I’ve put up a brave face, it would take one look into my eyes for him to see how much this is getting to me. And he doesn’t get that. He lost that right.
“I’m going to have a chocolate cupcake with the sprinkles,” she orders, jumping up and down and clapping her hands, “and Daddy likes the same thing.” I stop my head from turning to stare at him because he hates chocolate. He always picked vanilla over chocolate every single time.
“Coming right up.” I turn to walk to the back and only when I’m safely there do I let my head hang, and a single lone tear escapes and runs down my face. My hand shakes as I pull the white box off the shelf. Walking back in, I hear her say, “Ask her, Daddy.” I have no choice but to look at Brock. His eyes turn soft as he looks up at me, and then I can see the shift in them right before my eyes. “Ask her.”
“What can I help you with?” I ask him and then turn to look at his little girl.
“Ms. Maddie usually gives me a cookie while I wait,” she announces instead of waiting for Brock to say something, but all he does is put his hands on her shoulders.
I laugh and nod. “That sounds like my mom,” I reply, treating her just like I would any other little girl. But she’s not just any other little girl. Even my heart knows it. “What cookie do you usually get?”
“She usually has the special ones for me,” she shares, her eyes lighting up, “that she keeps in the back.”
“Is that so?” I lean my elbows on the counter. “And would you know where she keeps them?” I joke with her and all I want to do is look into her eyes that are very much like her father’s. The way they used to be. The ones I longed to look into. “She would only share it with special people.”
“I know, I know.” She holds up her hand. “Can I show you?” she asks, and I nod as she looks back at Brock. “Can I go, Daddy?”
“Yeah.” His voice is gruff and again I ignore looking at him. Instead, I watch the little girl walk behind the counter and come to my side.
“Lead the way.” I hold out my hand for her to walk in front of me and I follow her.
“She keeps them in there,” she directs, once she gets into the back and points at the fridge in the corner, where she keeps the cookie dough.
“Wow,” I say, folding my arms in front of me instead of reaching out and touching her hair and seeing if it’s as soft and silky as her father’s, “she must really like you.”
“She does. She says I’m a very special little girl.”
I don’t answer her. I just nod as I feel my heart soar in my chest. “She usually warms it up for me,” she informs me of how things go. I walk over to the fridge and pull out the cookies I baked just this morning.
“I don’t know if these are as good as Ms. Maddie’s,” I say, putting the tray on the table in the middle of the kitchen, “but here they are.” She comes over and stands next to me and I look up to see Brock has followed us into the kitchen. He stands in the doorway, watching us. Does he think I would do something to his daughter?
