Unstable (35 page)

Yeah, I’m not imagining the baffling yet wondrous connection I somehow have with Brooke Marie King, ‘cause there’s no one or nothing else, not even Keaton, that could have me walking into this room so easily.

But for her, I’m already inside. Breathing and heart rate both normal.

“Hey there,” I say softly as to not startle her since her back is to me. She’s busy, thoroughly examining the bulletin board on the wall…and everything displayed on it. “Your mom said it was okay for me to come find you. Everyone’s wondering where you went.”

“Is that you?” she asks, pointing to one of the pictures pinned to the board.

“Yes,” I reply evenly, tempering the pain suddenly trying to burn its way up my throat.

“Then who’s that?” She now points to Hadley, standing beside me in the photo. All decked out in her gown, the picture shot at one of the rodeo pageants she loved to enter. Never my thing, but I always helped with her hair and make-up and clapped for her the loudest. And when she’d win, I’d proudly cry…every single time.

I jolt back to the present, having kept Brooke waiting too long for a response. Not only because I got distracted with memories, but more so…I don’t have a lot,
or any
, experience with kids, so I’m unsure exactly what to say to her on the matter. I’m still silently debating appropriate wording for someone so young when she saves me the trouble.

“It’s your twin sister, huh?”

“Uh…” I gulp loudly. “Yes. Right again. You’re a very bright girl, Brooke. How old are you?” I change the subject, but am genuinely interested in the answer.

“Six, almost seven. But I’m smart as a whip, that’s what all my teachers say. I get to go to the fourth grade class for reading and math.”

She turns around to face me now, trying to smile, but unable to hide the sad wisdom in those huge eyes of hers. They’re every bit as expressive as her actual words.

“Your sister died, didn’t she? That’s why Mommy said you might act sad, right?”

Strangely enough, I appreciate her bluntness. Imagine that, finding comfort in a candid conversation with a six-year-old. Beats the hell out of pitying frowns and prescriptions.

“Yes, Brooke, she did. I had a twin sister named Hadley who I loved very much, but she went to Heaven a long time ago.” I almost add that she’s now joined by my mother there, but quickly decide that might be a bit much. “I miss her every day, and on some of those, it does make me sad. But on other days, it makes me happy when I think about all the fun times we had together.”

There–I’m pretty sure that answer was appropriate and catered gently enough.

“Are you ready to go eat?” My voice spikes with the hope she’ll say yes, thus ending me very carefully squirming my way through this inquisition.

“Almost.” She lifts her chin and plants one foot out front in an authoritative stance, which is absolutely adorable. “Henley, am I going to get to live here?”

There’s not a doubt in my mind – one day this child will make a
real
difference in the world. Probably in politics. Hell, I’d vote for her
today
…no matter for which office she was on the ballot.

“Um…I’m not sure yet sweetie. We should probably wait and talk to your parents about that. So let’s go join them. The sooner we do, the sooner you’ll find out the answer.” I wiggle my eyebrows to try and entice her.

“Well, if I
do
get to live here, can this be my room?”

Again, the correct answer here is “We have to discuss that with your parents.” I know it is, yet that’s not what I say.

“You
sure
this is the one you want? There’s another one downstairs you might like better.”

She’s already shaking her head, vibrant curls flopping in protest, before I’m done talking. “I’m very, very sure.
This
will be my room.”

“Why?” I ask immediately, somewhat desperately, unsure if I’m prepared for the meaningful answer I know she’ll give…and completely, permanently alter my outlook on life forever.

“Because,” she sighs dreamily and then, exceeds my expectations and shatters the last piece of armor that was still secretly guarding my heart, when she throws her arms out to the side and starts spinning in slow circles, “this room was meant for pretty, smart girls who can be tough on a farm
and
rodeo queens. Girls who have lots of pictures with their friends and blue ribbons. I can do that.
I
can be this room’s new super girl.”

I giggle, gasp, and wipe away a tear all at the same time, floored by her whimsical, unlimited soul and its power to heal mine. And then I laugh again because the thought crosses my mind—she’s a much younger, female version of Gatlin. Even at a mere six years old, everything she says
means
something. Something profound, beyond the boundaries of her earthly age.

“Brooke, I can’t say for sure what your parents will decide about anything, but I’ll tell you this. I couldn’t agree with you more. If anyone in the entire world belongs in this room, it’s you, precious girl. Now come on,” I hold out my hand, “let’s go eat. Maybe after that, I’ll show you the horses.”

“
There’s horses
?” she squeals.

“Yeah, three of them. You like horses?”

“I love them! Daddy said someday I could have one, as soon as he gets a better job. His boss is a cheap bastard.” She slaps a hand over her mouth and her eyes widen. “I’m not supposed to repeat that. Please don’t tell on me.”

“I won’t say a word, I promise.”

We’re almost to the country kitchen, where the others are no doubt done eating by now, when she tugs on my hand to stop us.

“What is it?” I look down at her and ask.

“Henley, no matter what happens when we talk to my parents,” she casts her eyes downward and fidgets a bit, “can we be friends?”

“Brooke, will you look at me please?” She does and I smile warmly at her. “I would love nothing more than to be your friend, forever, no matter what.”

Her sweet lil’ face lights up and she tightens her hold on my hand. “Yay! I don’t have too many friends. The kids at my school say I’m a freak who talks too much and uses weird words.”

“You’re not a freak or weird, honey. You’re just smarter than they are. I’m not saying they’re dumb, and you
never
should either, but…you’re…exceptional. Hopefully, they’ll catch up to you a little more one day. And if not, that’s okay too, ‘cause now you’ve got me and you know what? Not only do I understand every word you say, but I could use a friend too.”

“THERE THEY ARE.” KEATON
stands when we walk in to pull out my chair for me. “You two get lost?”

“No, we just had some important matters to discuss. Right, Brooke?”

“Right!” She agrees, grabbing a biscuit. “Got it all worked out, Mommy.”

“Oh, I’m sure you did,” Bri's snicker is tinged with worried exasperation. “Henley, I hope she wasn’t too much trouble.
Or
v
ocal
.”

“No trouble at all,” I assure her. “But vocal? Pretty sure that’s a set-in-stone thing. She’s…” I pause to choose a word worthy, “astonishing. If you don’t mind me asking, have you had her IQ tested? I think it’s probably higher than mine.”

The proud Papa chimes in this time, grinning at his daughter with obvious love and pride as he answers. “Well over one hundred. Ninety-seventh percentile, right baby?”

“Yep.” Brooke nods proudly.

“Up top, Brainy Smurf,” he laughs, holding up his hand that his daughter instantly high-fives.

I start to make myself a plate, eyes on task, and about as casually as a fart during a prayer, I break the ice. “So, did the three of you discuss things while we were gone?”

“Um, Henley,” Keaton utters while clearing his throat, “can I see you in the other room for a minute?”

“Secrets hurt feelings!” Brooke interjects and I laugh, smiling at her.

“No secrets, promise.” I rub her head, tousling her curls. “I’ll be right back.”

Once out of earshot, Keaton crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his head, looking at me with frustration. “Just what in the hell was I supposed to discuss with them, woman? You haven’t told me anything either, remember? Sure, we thoroughly covered the weather, current events, and I now know every damn thing about Bumfuck, Wyoming, where Mike is originally from, but that’s about the gist of it. You’ve left me hanging,, same as them. What took you so long and
what
are we telling them? I can’t offer to refill their tea again Henny, they’re onto that stall tactic.”

Oops. Minor oversight on my part.

“I’m sorry.” I slide my hand up his chest and rise to my tiptoes, offering him my lips.

He kisses me chastely, then pulls back. “Seriously baby, what are we doing? If you haven’t decided yet, that’s alright, just tell me so I can explain to them that you need more time. Leaving ‘em wondering and on the edge of their seats isn’t fair.”

“Wasn’t my intention, and I already said I was sorry. Now calm your tits and let’s go back in there. I got it.”

I start to walk away but I’m quickly stopped by a large arm curling around my waist and tugging me back against one very hard chest.

“
Calm your tits
?” He parrots hotly on my neck. “Tell ya what. Instead of tanning your ass for that one, I’m gonna play off your choice and do anything
but
calm
your
tits later tonight. Gonna suck, lick, bite and pinch those beauties ‘til you’re so
not
calm, you come long and hard before I even get near your sweet pussy.”

Okay, time to wrap it up! Would it be too incredibly rude to demand the Kings leave this very instant?
Yes, damn it, it would.
So I keep a hold on my manners, even though my panties are soaked and it’s taking colossal restraint not to beg him to take me right here on the floor.

He laughs, dark and deep, pinching one achingly hard nipple. “See how that works? Sure don’t
feel
calm, baby.”

“Keaton, stop.” I slap his hand away. “I can’t walk back in there with my headlights on high beam.”

“Gonna have to,” he laughs, “and preferably, in front of me. About to burst through my zipper.” He presses his rock hard erection against my ass.

“Dear God,” I sigh. “We’re already the worst landlords ever. Making them wait all evening just to walk back in there like we just got done shooting a porno.
They
may turn
us
down at this point. Just, think of something gross, like…shoveling horse shit. We gotta go back in there.”

“I APOLOGIZE FOR KEEPING
you waiting. Just now, as well as all evening,” I say to Mike and Bri when we return, my nipples in check…haven’t looked to see how Keaton and his hard-on are fairing behind me.

“I’d forgotten that Keaton didn’t know my exact plans either and couldn’t share with you, and then,” I grin down at her, “I got so caught up with Miss Brooke here, I didn’t realize how long it’d really been.”

“No apology necessary,” Mike offers. “We’ve had a nice time. The dinner was delicious and much obliged.”

“If you’re ready,” I take the seat Keaton’s once again pulled out for me, “I’d like to discuss your plans and thoughts, along with my own, now.”