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All of my belongings crashed to the floor as my legs gave out and I slid down the patio door, panic and fear seizing my heart. It was one thing to get texts, but knowing he’d found me. He knew what he was doing when he stuck that envelope in the wrong mailbox. He was sending me a message, that he could still do whatever he wanted, but I was no longer that same weak woman I was when I fled New Jersey. I had risen from the ashes that were my fucking life, and I was building something great here in Alabama. How dare he think he could show up and scare me into going back with him. I’ve been preparing for this for YEARS.
Pushing up off the floor, I make my way to my room. Snatching the key from my nightstand drawer, I go to the closet. Standing on my tiptoes and feeling around the top shelf until my hand met the cold metal of the locked box, I pull it off the shelf. Sliding that silver key into the lock and lifting the lid, there lies the Ruger handgun that I had purchased in Chicago a year after my escape. Pulling it out, I check to make sure it’s still loaded.
“Hey, is everything okay I heard a cra.. Jesus christ, Alexis!” Clarissa shouts, her eyes bugging out of her head. “What in the fuck are you doing with that gun?” I meet her eyes, snatching the envelope off the bed and holding it out for her to see.
“Where did you get this?” She asks, dropping down on the bed beside me, turning the envelope over in her hand.
“There’s no use looking for a return address,” I say, my voice emotionless. “This was hand delivered…” I trail off, leaving what needs said unsaid. That my husband knows exactly where I am and what I’m doing. That he’s found me.
“Fuck.” Clarissa says.
Fuck indeed. I load one into the chamber and drop the gun back into the lock box. If my husband was coming for me, I was sure as shit going to be ready for him.
???
I’m unloading my grocery bags in Ford's kitchen when he comes sauntering in, buttoning the cuffs on his dark blue dress shirt. He crowds me at the counter and sweeps my hair to one side, pressing a kiss to my neck. I sigh and lean back into him as he rests his hands on my hips.
“What’s all this?” He asks, taking inventory of all the things on his counter.
“Just some stuff I grabbed at the store. I was going to bake cookies with the kids. Is that okay?” I ask hesitantly, not wanting to overstep my boundaries but still wanting to get to know them better.
“Of course that’s okay,” he says, shrugging on his suit jacket and pocketing his keys. “They’ll love it.”
He’s made his way back over to me and takes my face in his hands, leaning down, he presses a sweet kiss to my lips.
“Thank you for this,” he says, releasing me and calling for the kids. “I shouldn’t be too long.”
He has a parent teacher conference tonight and Nina can’t watch the kids, so I volunteered. “Of course,” I say. “It’ll be fun.” I hear both kids coming down the stairs so I put a little space between the two of us. He hands out hugs and goodbyes to both kids.
“Be good for Miss Lex,” he says sternly before disappearing out the front door, leaving the three of us alone. Zane peeks at the stuff on the counter.
&
nbsp; “Is all this for us?” He asks, eyeing the bag of chocolate chips. I open the bag and dump a few into both of their hands.
“Sure is! We are going to make some cookies. How does that sound?”
“Cookies! Yesss!” Aria claps her hands together and drags a footstool out of the kitchen pantry, clamoring up beside me at the counter. Zane sits on the stool opposite us, still leery of what is happening.
“Not just any cookies,” I start, laying the recipe card on the counter and grabbing a mixing bowl from the cupboard. “This is a super secret recipe.”
“Secret?” Aria asked, her eyes as big as saucers. I smile and nod my head.
“Top secret. My mama gave me this recipe and she got it from her mama. And her mama got it from HER mama, which was my great grandma.” I say and glance at Zane to see he’s listening intently. “And when I was about 14 my mama told me that I could only share this recipe with someone super special to me.” Emotion clogs my throat a little and I make myself busy dragging Aria’s stool to the sink so that she can wash her hands.
“Can your mama come help us?” Aria asks and my heart breaks a little.
“No baby, but I wish she could. See, my mama died when I was in high school and this recipe is one of the only things I have left of her.” I say, my voice cracking a little. The death of a parent is something that doesn’t ever really go away, and it still makes me emotional. Her hands are dried and we are back at the counter in front of Zane and he’s staring at me.
“Our mom’s dead too,” he says, and I reach out and rest my hand on top of his.
“I know, bud. And see, that’s why I want to share this recipe with you. My mama said I should share it with someone special and since we share the fact that our mama’s are no longer here on Earth but up in Heaven, I thought I should share it with you.” I turn away for a second to look for Ford’s measuring cup and am a little shocked when I feel Zane’s arms wrap around my middle as he gives me a hug. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and squeeze before he makes his way to the sink to wash his hands so we can get started. This is just another reminder that I’m right where I should be.
???
“Louder girls, I can’t hear you!” I shout from my position in the bleachers to the girls that are cheering down below. Sitting back down in my seat I turn towards the only friend I’ve made here other than Ford. She cracks a grin at me and blows on the hot chocolate she’s holding.
“I see you’re getting the hang of this cheer coach crap,” she laughs, bumping shoulders with me and I roll my eyes at her.
