Tasting, Finding, Keeping: The Story of Never (34 page)

I wake on Christmas morning to the sounds of children shouting downstairs, racing up and down the halls, pounding on doors and begging India, Jade, and me to get our butts up. Ty is already gone, but on his pillow sits a small box wrapped in silver paper. It's topped with a green bow and there's a small note tucked underneath. I pick this up with a smile, my mind clogged with the happy feelings of sex and sleep, both of which I got in droves last night, and then remember that Ty knows. Ty knows that I'm pregnant but hasn't said a thing, so he's lying to me, too, in a way. I frown and unfold the note.

The words are in Ty's handwriting, small and scrawled, heavy and dotted with ink splotches because he presses too hard when he writes. Ty tells me he's broken his fair share of pens in his life, and I believe him. I read the words carefully, searching for McCabe's true feelings for me in the text.

Never,
it begins with a carefully placed date and time in the upper right hand corner.
I'm no Noah Scott in the poetry department, but I know you like guys with words of their own, so here it goes. P.S. If you make fun of me for this, I'll never forgive you. xxxOxxx Ty.

I peel the top page of the note back and tuck it behind the bottom.

Untitled Poem for the Love of my Fucking Life

by Tyson Monroe McCabe

Roses are red

Violets are blue

Never Ross, I heart the fuck out of you.

I snort with laughter as I reread the three simple lines that Ty has penned for me and decorated with flourishes. There are swirls, hearts, lips and even a few naughty bits drawn with careful precision.
Now open your fucking gift,
it says on the bottom. I fold the page up and know that although Ty is not a master manipulator of the English language, that his poem is my favorite if only because he wrote it.
Sorry Noah,
I think as I put the box in my lap, untie the ribbon and find a dog collar.

“Shit,” I say, but already there's a smile on my face. “Shit, fuck, Ty McCabe,” I say as I swing my feet out of bed and fight back a wave of nausea.
Look at me,
I think as I finger the purple and pink polka dotted collar with my fingers.
I'm your all American girl now. I've got a fiance, a baby, and a dog. Goddamn.
I finally give into my nausea and head to the bathroom, but I don't stay long. I have to see what my tatted bad boy has done, what stupid decision he made based on a few choice words from me. At least it's proof that he listens to what I say. I've only told him about my wishes for a dog offhandedly, and it certainly isn't anything we've talked about. Somehow though, Ty knows. Ty always knows.

I put some slippers on my feet, check to make sure my hair isn't too terribly mussy, and head down the stairs to find bitch-Never playing with a gray and white pit bull. Noah and Ty both supervise from the archways to the kitchen and living room respectively while the little girls gaze at the new dog with awe and a bit of raw jealousy in their faces.

“Tyson McCabe,” I say and my bad boy cringes, switching his gaze over to me with a guilty expression of pleasure turning up the corners of his sexy lips. “What on earth have you done?”

“You said you wanted a dog,” he tells me with a gentle shrug, and I have to avoid Noah's eyes because he's looking at me with
something
that I don't like. Zella comes out of the kitchen and he moves aside to let her pass, but the way she looks at him and the way he's looking at me, I know she's told him. I try not to let a frown grace my mouth and move down the stairs so that the dog –
my
dog – can sniff my crotch.

“I live in the dorms,” I say, but I want to be happy, so I just am. I follow the wagging tails of the two dogs as an example and just live in the moment, just feel for a second the way I want to feel. I will worry about Noah and Zella and the baby and Ty and his mother later. Right now, I'm bending down and getting a face full of slobber as I hook the collar around my new friend's neck.

“Adoption fee's nonrefundable,” Ty says with a silly wink. “Plus, she's a real good, bitch. Kind of like you.” I flip him off and the little girls
ooh
at our dirty display. Beth comes out of the kitchen at the perfectly wrong moment and gives me a
look.

“No fingers in front of the kids, Never,” she tells me, proving with a few, simple words that she is no longer angry at Ty; she doesn't correct him. I also notice that the engagement ring is no longer on her finger, and I can't help but wonder what happened between her and Danny. I'm afraid to ask. I'm even more afraid of what will happen when I leave with Ty today, how she'll react to my departure and how she'll behave when I'm gone. I'm not particularly into controlling the sex lives of others, but I know I don't want Beth with Danny. I have to protect her from the pain he could cause. I just have to. Beth deserves better.

“What's her name?” Lorri asks me, tugging on the sleeve of my oversized white tee, the one that I borrowed from Ty. I look up at the man in question and he shrugs at me.

“Your dog,” he says as he slips a cig between his lips and gets a dirty look from Beth. I sigh and sit down, crossing my legs and thinking about how this gray dog and I are a match made in heaven. She's a pit bull: one of the most misunderstood creatures on the planet. No doubt she's had to overcome obstacles to be here in my arms, and I don't doubt that she'll experience many more, that people will judge her based on what she is and not who she is. That's tough. I let her kiss my face and try to think around her slobber and bitch-Never's high pitched barking that Noah is always hard-pressed to put a stop to.

Ty watches me carefully as I think about this dog's name and how hard it is to pick just one word, one descriptor, one something to help define who she is, where she's been and what she'll become.
Think this is hard? What about naming a baby?
I swallow a painful lump and push that thought back.
Live in the now because the now is all you're guaranteed to have. The future is a far off concept, something that may or may not happen. You don't have to ignore it, but you don't have to obsess about it either.

“Well,” I begin as I hear footsteps and glance over my shoulder to find India and Jade both coming down the stairs. Maple and Darla are sitting on the floor near Ty's feet while Lettie and Lorri pet the dogs beside me; Beth watches; Ty watches; Noah watches with Zella's eyes sliding back to his face every now and again. There is only one person who should be here, but is not. “You know how recycling is good for the earth?” I speak slowly, so that they can all hear me. “How you can take something that's used, that's basically garbage, and make it new and fresh again?”

“You want to name her Recycle?” Lorri asks and both she and Lettie laugh. I smile at them, but I continue on, convinced that my decision is the right one. This dog and her name are now symbolic of my life. I have a feeling that we'll be together forever.

“I'm going to name her Angelica,” I say, and it takes the younger girls a moment to understand. Beth, however, gets it right away. She tucks her short hair behind her ear and smiles softly at me.

“I like it, Never,” she says as we both realize the impact our missing mother has and will continue to make on us both. “What do you think, Ty?” I look over at him and see that he's grinning from ear to ear.

“I think that's fucking perfect.”

“Language,” Beth says slowly. “Language.”

We manage to make it through a pancake breakfast and a frenzy of presents, paper, and toys before Ty's decision to leave comes out in the worst way possible – by accident.

“Wait, what?” Beth asks after Ty makes an offhanded comment about
coming back.
He pauses suddenly, like he's frozen and frowns. He's been stroking Angelica's fur for awhile now, and the dog looks like it's in heaven. His bracelets have been tinkling a merry rhythm that's lulled me into a sleepy state where I can barely keep my eyes open. As my sister's hazel eyes slide over to mine, I have no choice but to sit up and take a deep breath.

“Ty's mother is in the hospital,” I say as I let my gaze trail over to India, Zella, and Noah. Of course, he's the first one to speak. Noah is good with these types of situations.

“I'm so sorry to hear that,” he says as he leans forward and tilts his blonde head to the side, steeples his fingers in front of him and tries not to let his thigh touch Zella's. The poor girl is gunning for him like crazy and I know that she's waiting for the perfect moment to ask me if it's okay, if she can have him, love him the way I could've if I hadn't run away.
If I hadn't found Ty.
I don't let myself have any regrets and resolve to pull her aside before I go. Noah has a right to love someone else, and I want Zella to be happy. Besides, the boy fits into our family like a piece of a puzzle, filling the missing slot that my mom's left unoccupied. Guess we should keep him in the family. “I hope it's not too serious?”

“Actually,” Ty says as he sits up tall and blows out a big breath, one that smells like maple syrup and cigarettes. As strange as it sounds, it's actually comforting and it makes me want to kiss him, steal his worries away with my lips, hide them deep down with the rest of mine and lock them away. But then, could we ever really be happy if I did that? Could we ever really start fresh with old memories rotting inside of me, poisoning me from the inside out? I don't think so. “It is. In fact,” Ty pauses and glances up at the clock above the fireplace. “The old broad might be dead already.” Noah cringes, and I don't blame him. It's hard to hear the way Ty talks about his mother, even if she is a horrible person. I see Beth craning her neck after the little ones, but they're outside in the snow with Jade, so all is good. “That's why I have to go, just in case,” Ty tells the sad, sorry faces on the couch kitty-corner from ours. “I have to see her if I can, or I'm never going to get over this … this
hatred
that I have for her.” Ty runs his hands over his face and shakes his head.

Nobody speaks for a moment, so I step in and make sure it's understood that this is not something that Ty and I have been hiding from the family, just something that was sprung on us spur of the moment that we have to deal with.

“Ty got the call yesterday,” I begin as I put out a hand and rest it on his knee. My blue engagement ring looks so bright in the glow of the Christmas lights and the warm flicker of the candles on the fireplace mantel. I wish I could stay here, soak up the holiday cheer, and announce to my family Ty's and my union with a glass of champagne that I can't drink. “We didn't want to spoil the morning by telling you … ” I trail off as my sisters' faces fall, and I realize that they didn't know I was going with him.

“You're going, too?” Beth says, and her voice sounds very tight, like she's on the verge of tears. I think she was counting on my being here for the next few weeks. I think my pregnancy is helping her deal with hers, and besides, these past few weeks have been wonderful. I would do anything to stay with my sisters, but Ty needs me now, and I can't let him down. If I let him go without me, he might do or say something that he's going to regret for the rest of his life. I have to protect him, even if he won't acknowledge the secret that's festering between us. I nod, but I have a hard time getting the word
yes
past my tight-lipped frown. I knew I would have to leave eventually, go back to school, and say goodbye to my sisters for a little while. Despite what some people think, texts and phone calls are not the same. Still, I didn't expect it to come so soon or to hit me so hard when it did. Now that the word is out and Ty is nibbling his lip ring anxiously, I know it's time to go and my heart starts beating fiercely, begging me to stay.

“How are you going to get there?” Noah asks, and he's not being rude, just curious. Already, I see wheels and cogs turning in his blue eyes while he examines the two of us and calculates our resources. They are few and far between to be certain, and I know he's about to make us an offer, one that I hope doesn't offend Ty.

“I was hoping we could catch a bus,” Ty says as he glances at the clock for the second time. His ringed fingers are now tapping a steady rhythm on the arm of the couch nervously. I think for a while there, he'd forgotten all about his mother, got caught up in the laughter and the shouting and the presents. Now that the little girls are outside and both dogs are resting quietly on the floor, he's remembered the unpleasant task that lies before us. What exactly will happen when we arrive at his mother's bedside is beyond me, but I know that it isn't going to be a cherished memory for any of us. “I checked the schedule. There's one that runs today, but it leaves at noon, so we should probably get ready to go.”

“I could get you some plane tickets,” Noah blurts, and I have to force myself to look at his face, at his desperation. He wants to make me happy even if he can't have me. It's one of the worst things I've ever seen, and I feel horrible about it.
I really hope Zella can make him happy.
“Not many people fly on Christmas, so it should be pretty easy to get you some seats. I could even drive you to the airport.” I look over at Ty and try to see if he's offended, if he's one of those people who throw up their hands in the face of generosity and say,
I don't take handouts!
or something as equally ridiculous. Instead, he looks relieved, grateful even.

“Thanks man,” he says with a sigh of relief. “I can't even tell how you amazing that would be.” Ty pauses. “It might be awhile before I can pay you back.” Noah smiles and he looks very angelic and pretty with his blue plaid sweater, tender eyes, and blonde hair that glows like a halo in the living room light. Zella is gazing at him with unbridled affection, and I can't help but wonder how deep their relationship really goes. Have they slept together? I shake my head. It's none of my damn business.

“Merry Christmas,” Noah says as he stands up and pulls his phone out of his back pocket. “This is a gift to you both. No worries.”

“Are you coming back after?” Zella asks and Ty nods, slapping his hands on his thighs.

“That's the plan,” he says. I don't bother to tell him that things don't always go according to plan. After all, the best laid schemes of mice and men often go awry.