Taz
“Auntie…I mean Taz?”
“Yes, honey?”
“Do you think Mom sees us?”
I turn my head and glance at Sofie’s profile.
We’re lying on a blanket by the waterside, staring up at the endless stars above. Spencer is already sleeping in the tent and Rafe is having a beer by the fire, the dogs sleeping at his feet.
“I’d like to think so. I would imagine she’s always around, so she can see you and your brother grow up.”
I turn back to the stars and a silence stretches between us, but not uncomfortably so.
“Would she be mad?”
“Because of your dad and me? I don’t think so, Sofie. Your mom and I talked quite a bit before she died.” I hesitate, trying to figure out the best way to word this without going into details that shouldn’t be shared with an eight-year-old. “Sweetheart, she asked me to look after you and your brother, and I’d like to think maybe she was hoping this might happen.”
She doesn’t respond immediately, and I sneak a glance to find her still staring up into the night sky.
“Daddy says he loves you.”
“I love him too.”
“He says he also loves Mom.”
“As do I. That never goes away.”
“Isn’t that kinda weird?”
I try to keep my face impassive, even though I want to smile. That question makes my niece sound like a typical preteen. “Nope. I don’t think there’s a limit to how many people we can love.” I sense Sofie’s eyes on me and turn to face her. “Your heart doesn’t run out of space, honey. It has endless room for love.”
She looks at me with sad eyes before returning her focus to the stars above, and I do the same.
“Do you think she’s lonely?”
Her tremulous little voice has me reach over to find her hand, and I curl my fingers around it. “How could she be? She has all of us.”
Not much later Sofie announces the bugs are getting bad, and I walk with her to the bathrooms so she can brush her teeth and do her business before turning in.
“Night, Daddy.” She bends down to kiss Rafe goodnight, but he pulls her down on his lap, hugging her tight.
“I’ll tuck you in,” he rumbles before setting her back on her feet and walking her to the tent.
“Stay,” I order Lilo and Stitch, who grudgingly lie back down, but in no time are back asleep.
It’s been a busy day for the pups, first sniffing and exploring the campsite, and after that decimating a large tree branch they’d pulled from the underbrush. Neither of them seems inclined to wander too far away, which is a relief.
Sitting down by the fire, I toss another log on when I hear Sofie’s voice from behind me.
“Night, Taz.”
I twist my neck and see her head poking out of the tent. “Night, honey. Sleep sweet.”
Bullfrogs strike up a chorus by the water’s edge, blending with the buzz of the cicadas, and the soft hum of voices in the tent. It’s oddly peaceful and I breathe in deep, filling my lungs with fresh air and a whiff of woodsmoke. The perfect way to end an eventful day.
I’m well aware it could’ve ended much differently. Having Sofie open up to me earlier was an unexpected gift. If there was ever a time I could feel Nicky’s presence it was then, under the millions of stars dotting the night sky.
Staring into the flames, I’m lost in thought and don’t notice Rafe walking up until a warm hand slides under my dreads, giving my neck a squeeze.
“I’m grabbing another beer. Want some wine?”
“I’ll have a beer too.”
Rafe leans over me and I tilt my head back for the kiss I know is coming. It’s short but sweet and ends sooner than I’d like. It doesn’t take long before he’s back, pressing a bottle in my hands and taking the seat beside me, propping his feet up on the edge of the firepit.
“Thank you,” he mumbles, reaching over to take my hand in his.
“For what?”
“I heard you and Sofie talking. You managed to find the exact right things to say to her. I know it’s short-sighted to think there won’t be snags along the way, but she’s in a better place than I expected her to be.”
“Spencer was a bit of a surprise, wasn’t he?” I share with a grin. I’m sure the easy acceptance by the little boy went a long way to making his sister more receptive to the idea of her father and me together.
“Life should be pretty simple at five. Sleep, eat, play, and as long as the people you care about are happy, you are too.” There’s a wistful tone to his words.
“How old were you when you ended up in the foster system?”
“A toddler. I don’t really remember anything from before. Apparently my mother overdosed on heroin, and I was found wandering around the parking lot of a seedy motel in nothing more than a dirty diaper.”
I tighten my grip on his hand. “Did you ever try to find out more? Maybe find your father?”
“Nothing to discover. My mother is still listed as a Jane Doe: no papers, no name, and no record of my birth anywhere. I didn’t have a name.”
“Who gave you one?” I look at his profile, lit by the flames, showing the dark shadows and deep angles of his handsome features.
“I have no idea. I’m guessing someone with CPS where I ended up.”
I didn’t think there was more for me to discover about Rafe, and although he may not seem to know much about his own background, it goes a long way to explaining the choices he made.
“You’re amazing,” I echo his words to me from earlier today.
He turns to me, his clear blue eyes smiling. “You’re stealing my line.”
“Nah, it fits you better,” I tell him. “I was blessed with a family to grow up in—a place I belonged—and only now am I learning to appreciate that. But you…you didn’t have any of that. You had to claim yourself a place in this world—create a family to belong to—and you did that without any guidance. That’s amazing.”
Other than the tight grip of his hand on mine he has no response, but it’s enough to put a smile on my face as I stare into the dying fire.
I’m not sure how long we sit there, but eventually we get up, tidy up the campsite and toss sand on the fire. We crawl into the tent, only to find the kids huddled together in the center, leaving room on either side of them. The dogs go into their crate we set up at the foot end without coaxing and curl up together.
When I’ve settled into my sleeping bag next to Sofie, I turn on my side to find Rafe propped up on an elbow. His eyes drift over the sleeping forms of his children before they find mine.
“I’m blessed,” he whispers.
Rafe
“It’s cold!”
I glance over to where Spencer just joined Taz and Sofie in the water. The dogs are barking excitedly, neither getting more than their paws wet.
Both kids are wearing life vests, regardless of their complaints. They may be fine swimming in a pool, but the river, with its unpredictable currents, is another story.
We’re all sporting a tan after a week with near perfect weather. A week that’s gone by much too soon. I’m going to miss the easy routine we’ve fallen into. It didn’t take Taz long to coax the kids into the water, despite Sofie’s fears of creatures touching her under the surface. Every morning while I built a fire to make coffee and cook breakfast, the three of them would splash around in the river until it was time to eat.
We’d spend most mornings exploring the many trails, and on two occasions drove into Potosi to replenish our supplies. The afternoons we generally lazed around the campsite, and even with the leisurely pace of our days, we inevitably ended up in bed early.
The plan for today is to have a good breakfast, clean up, pack up, and head home. Sadly. Back to the daily grind. I’ve already decided that next year we’ll do two weeks.
“Five minutes, guys!”
“Okay!” Taz calls back.
I turn the bacon and flip the pancakes as Stitch trots up, drawn by the smell of food. “No bacon for you, bud. You’ve had your breakfast.” Not deterred, he flops down on his belly, his head resting on his front paws as he follows every move closely. Waiting for something to drop.
Sofie is the first out of the water, which is perfect, because there’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to her about.
“Almost ready?” she asks, dropping her soaked life vest on the ground.
“Yes, hang that on the tree to dry, will you? And grab the orange juice from the cooler on your way back, please.”
Even though she grumbles under her breath, she does as I ask before sitting down at the picnic table. She’s had some moments this past week, but nothing more than an occasional sharp look or roll of the eyes when she caught Taz and I touching. We’ve been careful with public displays of affection, but I’ve held her hand on hikes, and occasionally kissed the top of her head, much like I do with the kids.
“I wanted to ask you something,” I start, my back to her as I pour more batter into the pan, trying to be as casual as I can. “How would you like having a bathroom of your own?” When I turn to look I see her eyes have gone big.
“Really? Like…how? Are we moving?”
“No. We’re not moving. We’re thinking of making some changes upstairs. Starting with you maybe moving into the master bedroom. We could look at painting it a different color; maybe get new curtains. And the best part is, it comes with the big bed.”
“Can I have sleepovers?” she asks immediately, and I bite off a grin.
“Sure, every now and then, but you’ll have to wait until the work is finished.”
“Are you going to sleep in my old room?”
I note she’s already calling it her ‘old’ room, which I guess means she’s on board with the plan. So far.
“Actually, that’s the next part. I want to turn your room and the spare bedroom into one bigger bedroom with a bathroom for Taz and me.”
She seems to ponder on that while I flip the last pancakes. “But what happens if you guys have a baby? Where is it gonna go?”
I almost drop the spatula from my hand. I hadn’t even considered that possibility.
“We’re having a baby?” Spencer asks, as he too drops his life vest in a puddle on the ground.
From the corner of my eye I see Taz—who was coming up right behind him—freezing on the spot. “There’s no baby,” I inform my son, and by default Taz, “but if you pick up that life vest and hang it to dry the way you know you’re supposed to, I’ll fill you in on what your sister and I were talking about.”
I note Taz keeps glancing at Sofie, as I catch both her and Spencer up on the conversation. Of course my son loses interest the moment I set his breakfast in front of him, but I seem to have Taz’s attention.
“So what about the baby?” Sofie persists.
It would appear my girl has got her jaws in something and is shaking it like the little terrier she can be.
“Honey, there’s no baby,” Taz tries.
“But what if there is? Lisa Brinkman is in my class and her mom just had another baby.”
Great. Now she’s glommed on to the idea of a little brother or sister.
“Let’s stick with the four of us for now, okay?” I suggest, hoping that ends the topic, but my daughter clearly isn’t done yet.
“I’m just saying…”
“Enough, Sofie.”
It’s not until after we finish breakfast, clean up, and send the kids to pack the toys in their backpacks, that I get Taz alone for a minute.
“Do you get the sense her head has been busy this past week?”
She snorts as I take the folding chairs from her and fit them in the back of the truck. “So I gather. I’m not sure if that makes me happy or concerned.”
“How’s that?” I ask, taking the cooler she hands me.
“Well, I guess it’s good she’s thinking of us as a family, but she may be creating expectations we can’t live up to.”
That statement gives me pause. “You’re saying you don’t want children? More children,” I correct myself, jumping down from the truck bed.
“I didn’t say that. I mean, you have two beautiful kids, I assumed…”
I grab her lightly by the shoulders and lean down so I’m eye to eye. “Don’t assume. Just because I haven’t really had a chance to think about more children doesn’t mean I wouldn’t want them. Tell me what you’re thinking.”
She grabs on to my wrists with her hands and takes in a deep breath. “I might…some day.”
“Some day?” I tease, grinning at her responding eye roll.
“Yeah,” she taunts me right back. “If I find the right guy.”
She squeals when I bend down and put my shoulder in her stomach, lifting her off her feet. The dogs start jumping up and barking as I carry her toward the water.
“Rafe! Set me down!”
“What are you doing?” Sofie wants to know. Alerted by the dogs, she and her brother come crawling out of the tent when I march past.
“I think Taz needs another dip. The heat’s already gone to her head.”
The kids giggle and follow behind me while Taz continues to struggle against my hold.
“I just put on dry clothes, don’t you dare, Rafe Thomas!”
I stop right at the river’s edge.
“Give me a good reason not to toss you in, Natasha Boran.”
“All right, all right—I already have the right guy.”
I slowly let her slide down my front until her feet touch the ground, but I don’t let go of her. “And?”
Her indignant huff only makes me chuckle, and she finally gives in. “And I love you.”
“A good start, but not what I’m after.”
She bulges her eyes at me before darting a glance at the kids, who are following our interaction closely.
“And…the rest is up for discussion.”
I grin down at her before planting a quick hard kiss on her lips.
“Ewww,” comes from the peanut gallery.