And so was their mom.
We’d prove it.
We keptthe kids at home.
It didn’t matter that it was a school day; it didn’t matter that I was supposed to be on a job site, or that Eli was supposed to be at the firehouse. After last night, there was no way in hell we were letting those kids out of our sight knowing that Danny was trying to get them in his custody.
So, I made breakfast, Eli kept the cartoons rolling, and when Toby asked why Mom wasn’t there, I gave him the first lie I could stomach.
“She’s got a really nasty stomach bug, bud. Grammie Blake is taking care of her for a few days so she doesn’t get anyone else sick.”
He frowned, suspicious in that sharp way of his, but nodded slowly. Emmie just clutched her stuffed goalie bear tighter and asked if she could call Frankie to see how she was feeling.
I swallowed down bile as I gave her a smile and told her we’d call her soon.
Eli and I were able to keep them entertained and distracted for a few hours before they started getting suspicious. Eli tried to referee a hockey scrimmage in the living room using couch cushions as goals, but when Toby launched himself across the coffee table, I knew we needed backup.
So, I called my parents.
Mom and Dad showed up within the hour, arms full of board games and cookies, love beaming out of them bright enough to hold my brittle smile together.
My mom swept Emmie up into her lap, cuddling with her on the couch like she’d been waiting her whole life for that hug. Dad set up Candy Land with Toby on the coffee table, letting the boy cheat just enough to win every round.
The house felt lighter with them there. Softer. Like maybe we could shield the kids from the storm brewing outside our walls. But every time I caught Eli’s eye, I saw the same thing I felt in my chest; the weight of what we weren’t saying.
Frankie wasn’t here. She was at her mom’s, broken and alone, fighting a war she should have never been thrown into.
It didn’t help that she wouldn’t answer any of our calls. She sent a few texts, mostly asking about the kids, asking how we were doing, but anytime we asked about her, she deflected.
She was firmly back behind those walls that Eli and I had worked so hard to break down. And it fucking gutted me to the core, I felt like at any moment, my insides were going to fall out onto the floor, and I’d have a moment to recognize the impeding pain and death heading my way, but I wouldn’t be able to stop it.
I hated the doom lingering in my chest.
As much as I smiled for the kids, as much as I held Emmie’s hand and gave her unlimited cuddles on the couch when she missed her mom, and high-fived Toby’s “hockey goals,” and eased his worries, my gut burned with the truth.
We were holding the line. That was all it was. One day at a time. One step at a time.
We would keep the kids safe, we would keep them loved, until Frankie came back to us.
But God help the man who thought he could rip them away from her.
Because if DCFS didn’t see the truth of who she was, I’d carve it into the world myself.
After lunch, Emmie lay down in her bed to watch a movie, and Toby passed out on the couch after one too many chocolate chip cookies from my mom’s loot, leaving the house quiet.
I stepped into the kitchen, hands braced on the counter to breathe, I just needed to catch my breath and then I’d go back in.
Eli followed, sliding a hand over my shoulder as he leaned against the counter next to me, and not long after, my mom and dad joined us. It was the first kid-free moment we’d had all day.
My mom’s eyes were wet, her voice low so Toby didn’t hear from the couch. “How bad is it?” When I called them this morning on an SOS, I gave a very condensed version of what was happening, but they deserved to know the truth.
Eli and I shared a look before I answered, my throat felt like glass shards had taken the place of my tonsils as I spoke. “Bad. They are claiming neglect and abuse. Things that hold the weightof felonies if she’s found guilty of them, let alone the fact that they’ll take the kids in a heartbeat over them. All because her ex is a psychopath.”
My dad’s jaw set, his rough, weathered hands curling into fists on the counter, “That bastard’s been poison since the day I met him. If he thinks he can take those kids, he’ll have to go through us too.”
Mom reached for my arm, squeezing hard. “Travis, Eli—you’re not in this alone. And neither is Frankie; we’ll stand with her. Publicly, if that’s what it takes, we’ll tell anyone who asks what kind of mother Frankie is. How those kids light up when she walks into a room. How they’re thriving because of her, not in spite of her.” Her voice cracked, but she straightened her spine and stood strong, mirroring the brave woman I’d admired my whole life. “And if they try to take them away from her, from you both, then they’ll have to look me in the eye while they do it.”
Something in my chest loosened for a moment. It didn’t feel like just me and Eli holding the line with my parents here. It felt like a family.
