Call Me Michigan (9 page)

“They are not coming back anytime soon, Tay. You need to own this house,” he remarked, his eyes never once leaving the road. She started chewing her lip, contemplating her next words.

“I failed at owning that house because it’s exactly what I didn’t want, and still, I’m back. I mean I’m a ship sailing an ocean at night without a compass or a star to guide me. I don’t know what to do or say.” It was the harsh truth. She put on a brave face and pretended to be fine, hoping that one day she’d wake up, and it just would be true.

“For what it’s worth, you’re doing pretty well,” he replied, his voice hushed.

“Of course.” It had been too long since Taylor had a friend who’d look at her and instantly know that her world was in ruins. He took a few deep breaths, clearly trying to find the right things to say, only to realize there wasn’t anything left to say.

His house was dark as they arrived, and he checked his watch. It seemed as if his mom wasn’t home.

“Who’s watching Becca?” Taylor wondered, and he rubbed his chin before pinching the bridge of his nose.

“I was supposed to. Since I was home yesterday already, Mom figured I could enjoy the evening with my daughter, giving her a Saturday off. I was supposed to be here thirty minutes ago. She probably thought I’d be in any minute, so she left and texted me that Bec was in bed.” He exhaled slowly, taking out his cell, cursing low. “I shouldn’t ignore my phone. Fuck.”

He hit the wheel, appearing exhausted. Clearing his throat then, he raised his phone to his ear. In the silence of the truck, she could hear the dial tone.

She decided to give him some privacy, getting out of the truck and breathing in some fresh air, sobering more by the minute.

A few moments later, Mason came out of the truck as well, cursing like a sailor. “Fuck. Damn it all to hell. Shit. Fuck.” He tore on his beautiful dark strands, and she moved closer, pulling his hands away from his hair to keep him from mutilating himself.

“What’s wrong?”

“I gotta work, and Becca is alone. I can’t get hold of my mom and …” She doesn’t have a mother who can take care of her. She heard the words ring loud and clear even though he hadn’t said them, but instead, he looked down at the hands she had yet to let go. Taylor felt his thumbs brush the back of her hands, making her swallow as well as realize that it was highly inappropriate if she followed through with her plan of making things right between Ash and him.

“I can take care of her. I’d feel better that way, too.” She stepped away, hugging her elbows tightly to her body.

“She doesn’t know you and you’ve had quite a bit to drink,” he pointed out.

“Cross my heart, she will be absolutely fine. Besides, I feel a lot more sober than I did before we got out at my house,” she whispered, knowing that it was true.

“She doesn’t take well to female strangers. The psychologist says …”

“She’s four. She doesn’t need a psychologist; she needs a woman she can trust to be there for her without it being her grandmother. Until you and Ash get back together, let me show her that not everyone is out to leave her.” She saw Mason flinch, and it solidified her resolve to bring those two back together.

Indecision twisted his features until he groaned and pressed a hard kiss to her cheek, handing her the house keys then. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he promised, and she nodded.

He didn’t even let her inside, so she decided to walk over before he left, tapping his window. He opened it, and she gave him a smile, leaning in ever so slightly.

“I don’t have any clothes.”

“Mi closet es su closet.” He grinned. She smiled quickly but then got serious.

“Drive safely, Mason,” she pleaded, stepping back before doing something stupid like, let’s say, touching his cheek or kissing his lips.

He nodded and then put the truck in gear, leaving. Something rumbled somewhere far away, and Taylor looked up. In the distance, she could see lightning split the sky. With any luck, it would move past without them catching the worst of it.

Finally, she walked inside, changing into the clothes she had worn the night before. She added the sweatpants from the chair, then ventured into the kitchen and filled a glass of water. Her mind was crowded, her thoughts bouncing from Mason to Ash to her parents and back to Mason.

Every minute she spent around him made her realize more and more that she still could fall deeper in love with him. She probably never had stopped being in love with him in the first place, and it cut deep to register how much time had passed. She should’ve stayed that night he had asked her to. Maybe they’d be a couple now. How often could you wonder if life would’ve been different then? For her? For Tammy and Tim? For Mason?

Thunder and a yelp jolted her out of her thoughts. She placed the water glass on the counter as the pitter-patter of tiny bare feet across wooden floors reached her ears. It took a moment, and Mason’s daughter appeared in the room, freezing as she spotted Taylor.

“Who are you?” the little girl instantly asked while Taylor had to swallow at how much she looked like her father. Her dark hair curled around her chubby cheeks, her blue eyes wide with fear and curiosity. The last time Tay had been there, she’d left before the girl had left her bedroom in search of her father.

“I’m a friend of your dad’s,” Tay answered, kneeling down to the same height as Rebecca. “He told me that I could come here, and you’d protect me from the storm.”

“You ‘fraid of storm?”

Taylor nodded solemnly. “Totally. My name’s Tay. What’s yours?”

His daughter poked her own chest right where her heart was. “Becca, Mason’s daughter,” she introduced herself, making Taylor smirk. Clearly, Stella introduced her granddaughter more often than her father did.

“Hey there. So will you protect me?” The girl nodded, and Taylor pointed up the stairs just as another loud crash from outside shook the house. Rain started pelting against the windows, giving the house an eerie feeling.

Becca trembled like a leaf in the wind by now, and Taylor cupped her cheek. “Wanna go back to bed?”

Rebecca swallowed; clearly not keen on the idea of going back to her room. “Well,” she started, chewing her lower lip.

“Since your daddy’s at work, how about you and I share his bed so you can protect me?” Becca started beaming before her face fell.

“Daddy says no strangers,” she mumbled, and Taylor laughed.

“I’m in your house and in your dad’s clothes. I’m not a stranger,” she promised, finishing exactly as another lightning bolt lit up the room, making the tiny human squeak.

“I’ll protect you,” Becca stated hastily, jumping into her arms. Tay pressed her little body against her own, carrying her upstairs after turning off the kitchen light.

“Don’t tell Dad I’m scared,” Becca pleaded against her shoulder, and Taylor inched her feet toward the bed, not yet familiar with the layout of his bedroom, then she placed the child underneath the sheets and crawled in next to her.

“Thank you,” Mason’s daughter muttered sleepily as Taylor pulled her close.

“Always,” she assured her, kissing the dark hair while cuddling the girl to sleep.

***

Mason finally returned home at the first light of dawn. The storm had taken its toll on him and the team, grounding them longer than he had hoped. He was exhausted, but he was too wound up to think about sleep while his body was ready to drop. His mind was playing the pictures of last night on repeat. Blood, so much blood, he was sure he’d be washing it off his hands for the next decade to come. He needed a smile to replace those memories and quick.

As always, his first way led him into his daughter’s room, only to find her bed empty. His heart rate accelerated in worry. Becca hated storms and had a tendency to hide in the weirdest places. Searching, he went to all the possible and impossible hideouts, drawing a blank. Panic had him in its tight grip. Where the hell was his daughter?

Realizing that he had left Taylor here as well, he decided to ask her. Gently pushing open the door to his room, he stalked into the room with every intention of waking her when he spotted his little girl curled up next to Taylor, Becca’s little hands wrapped around Taylor’s arm.

He took out his phone and couldn’t resist snapping a picture. Then he moved back to the door, his clothes brushing the doorframe with a light rustle.

“Dad?” a small voice asked, and he looked back at her.

“Hey, sweetie. Wanna go back to your bed?” he wanted to know, waiting.

“I stay with Tay now,” she decided almost instantly, wiggling closer to the woman in question. Mason nodded, returning to the sofa downstairs. He grabbed a book, figuring it would keep him awake until Becca didn’t want to sleep anymore. It couldn’t be more than an hour or two since she never slept in and the sun was already coming up on the horizon.

Only when giggling woke him did he noticed that he had fallen asleep after all.

“Look, Daddy. I made Tay’s hair!” Without a care in the world, Becca jumped into his lap, making him drop the book to catch her instead.

Following his daughter, Taylor came in, wearing his hoodie and sweatpants, showcasing a weird mix of ponytail and bird’s nest on her head, presenting his daughter’s non-existing design talent.

“Your daughter will be a great hairstylist one day,” Taylor promised, and as quick as Becca had been in his lap, she was gone again, jumping into Taylor’s waiting arms. Only then did Mason registered the carefully crafted French braid on his daughter’s head. He got up, wondering why he had never thought it possible to fall even harder for Taylor, when in truth, watching her dance around the living room with his baby girl in her arms made it clear that so far what he had felt wasn’t anything compared to what he could feel.

“Ash, I know we haven’t been on the best of terms, but this is about Tay, so please don’t hang up!” Calling his ex hadn’t been easy, but he had a plan, and he couldn’t do it alone. A few guys were already there for the hard work, but he needed a few women who knew Taylor.

“Mason …”

“She’s sleepin’ on the sofa, not touching her parents’ bedroom. She’s out all day today. I wanna make that room hers. How is she ever going to feel like it’s home if she’s a visitor in her own house?”

After a long pause, Ashley finally answered. “I cannot imagine how she must feel. Everythin’s the same, yet nothing is as she knew it. If she sees us together, Mase, your chances will be slimmer and slimmer. She wants to make it right for us and …”

“That’s not what this is about,” he interrupted, knowing that he needed to sit down with Taylor, even if it was merely to stop the wild matchmaking idea.

“What do you need me to do?” she asked in an exasperated breath.

“Blankets, sheets, decorations. Take it out of my account,” he explained and then listened with relief as she promised that she knew exactly what he needed. They hung up, and he turned back to Taylor’s front door, patting around the frame until he found the spare key. Entering the house, he took Brad and his two brothers upstairs. The furniture needed to go before they got some color on the walls. Ashley arrived promptly as they had stored away the last box of memorabilia in the barn. Brad had covered the wooden floor before they started to color the wall around the door in a light shade of yellow, which worked well with the light violet they’d put on the wall left of the door. The paint would complement the white walk-in closet there. Next wall, yellow again, and then, the last one violet. The lady at the store had assured him that the choice of color was exactly right for a young woman’s bedroom. Now, he wondered if maybe they weren’t the right ones for this woman.

“She won’t be able to sleep in here today,” Brad reported, and Mason nodded He had guessed that much, but at least they’d be able to make her imagine how it would look done and dry.

“Let’s go and get the dresser, night tables, and bed.” With two trucks, they’d easily be able to bring it all back without much trouble. Downstairs, they found Ashley draping a lavender quilt over the back of the sofa. It fit the color upstairs perfectly.

“You know, that’s always been Taylor’s favorite shade of purple. I remember back when we were in high school, she used to tell me how she imagined her bedroom if only she had the money. I don’t think she knows who she is any longer, so let’s remind her of who she was,” Ashley whispered as if she guessed his thoughts.

“We’re going to get the furniture,” he explained after clearing his throat.

“I’m coming. You and I need to talk, honey,” she decided, and Mason groaned, throwing a glance back it his best friend.

“Meet you at Woody’s,” he hinted, waiting for Brad to move.

The name of the shop was misleading, since it had everything from guns to food, and just his luck, exactly the pieces he imagined for Tay’s bedroom.

“If you ain’t there in thirty, I’ll call the cops,” Brad stated under his breath, clearly worried that Ash planned to hurt him.

“You’re a true friend.” Mason laughed, locking up the house as everyone was out, and then he held the truck door open for Ash.

“Still a gentleman,” she commented, and though the drive was less than thirty minutes, it sure would take forever.