Filfthy (64 page)

S
erena

T
he crunch
of gravel beneath tires signals Derek’s return from the firm. It’s half past five. Dinner’s in the oven, and the girls are running around the back yard, chasing butterflies and giggling.

Haven is an amazing big sister to Hadley, and the two of them are inseparable on the best of days. On the worst of days, they bicker like all sisters do, and it’s all we can do to keep from laughing.

He’s so good with them too. He understands them. And he’s patient and wise and tenderhearted. They’re just as lucky to call him their father as I am to call him my husband.

Derek is used to the girl fights, and judging by some of the stories he has about his younger sisters, I can see why.

Me, I love the noise. The chaos. The laughter. The tears. I wouldn’t trade it for anything because this—
this
is what life is really about.

My husband of four years strides across the lawn of our restored farmhouse, stopping to kiss sweet baby Harper in my arms before kissing the top of my head.

“Hello, my love,” I say. I’m incapable of frowning in his presence, because after all that has happened, Derek Rosewood is still my happiness.

No one has ever fought for me the way he has. He was there through it all. The ups and downs. He stuck by me after the claims against him were substantiated, and he never blamed me once when he received a private reprimand. He was cheering by my side when Veronica pled guilty at her trial and when the judge refused to honor her attorney’s request for a reduced prison sentence. Derek was also there when Veronica left my father after the trial, when she realized she wasn’t getting a single red penny from the estate, and he was there the day my father passed peacefully at a nearby hospice center.

We’re richer than sin. Our accounts are filled with hundreds of millions of dollars—which we intend on mostly giving away. But our love? This beautiful life we’ve created? It’s priceless.

“What’s for dinner?” he asks.

“Lasagna,” I say. “Bliss’s recipe. Demi and Royal are stopping by too. I told Kyla not to come by until after seven. I want Haven to have a good meal before her weekend with her mom.”

Shortly after Derek and I made things official, he pursued full custody of Haven and won. I’d never seen the Rosewoods so happy, but I think the happiest little soul was Haven. She belongs with Derek.

With both of us.

“Appreciated.” He smiles, staring at me like he just won the lottery. But it’s nothing new. He’s been doing it since the day he proposed to me at the Mariposa waterfall over four years ago.

“What?” I ask.

“Why are you so good to me?” Derek leans in, stealing a kiss. I’m sure I taste like red sauce and garlic, but he doesn’t complain.

“Daddy, Daddy!” My red-headed Mini-Me, Hadley, runs up to Derek, breathless, and wraps her three-year-old arms around his legs.

He sets his briefcase on the ground and scoops her up. Her little limbs wrap his neck and she kisses his cheek just as nine-year-old Haven pummels into his side, almost causing Derek to lose his footing.

“Hi, Daddy.” Haven hugs his side, and he ruffles her feathery blonde hair. “We missed you.”

“I missed you too, baby.” He pulls her close, his gaze returning to mine. “I missed all of you.”

“We love you, Daddy.” Haven brushes her face against his suit jacket, beaming a gap-toothed smile.

“I love you too,” he says. “Let’s head in. Go get washed up for dinner. Aunt Demi and Uncle Royal are going to be here soon.”

The sun sets early on this late autumn Friday, painting the sky in warm pinks and oranges and yellows. It wasn’t until I moved to the country that I earned a newfound appreciation for sunsets.

I’ve realized, over the past five years, that there were many things I’d missed out on in my life. The smell of rain on country grass. The burst of unobstructed sunlight filtering through shades early in the morning. Leisurely strolls and neighborly waves. Cooking delicious meals from scratch because it’s more convenient than ordering takeout from a trendy restaurant with a two-hour wait.

Derek’s arm hooks into my elbow, and he stops me to steal a quick kiss.

“I love you,” he whispers, his lips against mine.

“I love you more.”

The five of us file inside, where our snoring pug, Munch, sleeps in his bed by the fireplace. The kitchen is scented with my sweet mother-in-law’s lasagna, and the girls impatiently take their places as Derek gently places a very sleepy Harper in her bassinette.

Demi and Royal pull up just in time, and the girls leave the table and run to the door to greet them with giggles and squeals. They can hardly wrap their arms around Demi’s swelling belly with her due date just around the corner. They’re expecting a little boy any day now, and they’re planning to call him Beckett, and the girls have been having a blast picking out plush frogs and blue onesies for Demi’s baby shower next weekend.

The timer on the stove beeps, and I tend to dinner while everyone settles in.

This is my life now.

I’m in love with every beautiful, challenging, imperfect moment of it.

And I wouldn’t trade it for the entire world.

D
emi

“Wake up, wake up, wake up.” I press my palm into Royal’s shoulder, shaking him gently, an enormous smile on my face, my sing-song voice fit for a Disney princess. “It’s Christmas morning . . .”

Royal utters some semblance of a groan before rolling toward me, but his eyes remain closed. He hooks his arm over my side, pinning me down, and buries his face into the pillow. It’s crazy being in my childhood bedroom, my high school sweetheart half-asleep beside me. My parents never would have allowed him to sleep in my room back in the day.

The muted clanking and clamoring of pots and pans echoes upstairs from the kitchen. The sun’s not up yet, but my mother’s already hard at work making breakfast. I should help. I’ve always loved rolling the cinnamon roll dough and slicing off spiraled pieces. Plus she sometimes lets me lick the cinnamon and sugar filling off the bowl when we’re done, and if I get down there early enough, I won’t have to fight Derek for it.

“Come on, Haven’s here,” I say. “I want to watch her open presents. She’s going to flip when she sees what we got her.”

Sure, we could have stayed at our place a half hour away, but what fun would that be? This Christmas is different. This Christmas is special. We’re all here, each of us at different stages in our lives than we were a year ago.

It’s funny how quickly life changes, and how when you’re least expecting things become wonderfully unpredictable.

I slide out from under Royal’s arm and throw the covers off my legs before heading to the Jack-and-Jill bathroom I used to share with my sisters. Haven’s sleeping in their room with Daphne, and I swear I hear the soft padding of tiny footsteps.

Freshening up, I check on Royal again, prepared to yank him out of my bed by his pinky toes if I have to, but he’s already up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and yawning.

Slinking up from behind, I wrap my arms around his still-warm body and nuzzle my nose into his neck. I love the way he smells, all clean and woodsy, even in the morning. He drags a hand through his hair, smoothing down the parts that are sticking every which way, and then places his hand on mine.

The sky is lighter than it was a few minutes ago, shifting from a deep, sapphire blue to a twilight cobalt.

“Delilah should be here any minute,” I say. She and Zane took a red-eye from Chicago. They were supposed to get here last night, but their plane was overbooked. They offered to give up their seats so a family of five wouldn’t get split up. “Are you excited to meet Zane?”

Royal turns to me, mouth half-smirking. “Yeah. I guess.”

I playfully pat his chest. “I don’t care what you say, you’re excited. You see him on TV all the time, and now he’s going to be here. You love the Cougars. Gainesville is your team.”

“All right, all right. I’m excited.” He kisses the top of my head. “Just like you were excited when Serena Randall came over for a spaghetti dinner.

“I still can’t get over the fact that she lived with us.”

“Well get over it. She’s probably going to be around for a long time.”

“God, I hope so.”

Royal makes his way to the bathroom, and I secretly wonder if today’s the day Derek’s going to propose to Serena. They’ve only been together six months, but I’ve never seen my big brother like this before. He’s completely and utterly smitten. Obsessed. Head over heels in love with her. And she’s perfect for him. She’s perfect for Haven too. We all adore her – even my father.

By the time we trek downstairs, the sound of Bing Crosby crooning about a white Christmas plays softly from the living room speakers, filtering through the rest of the main floor. Mom’s singing along from the kitchen, Dad quietly harmonizing from behind an unfolded newspaper.

“Morning,” Mom calls a pot of coffee in hand. “Would you two like some?”

“Yes, please.” Royal takes a spot at the long table, slinging his legs over the bench seat, and Mom brings him a steaming cup of Joe, black, no milk or sugar, just the way he likes it.

“You need any help, Mom?” I glance at the elaborate ingredient set up she’s got going. The kitchen island is covered. I can’t see a single square inch of counter.

She moves to the refrigerator, coming back with a roll of dough wrapped in plastic.

“Let me guess,” she says with a wink. “You want to be in charge of cinnamon rolls?”

Grinning, I take the ball of dough from her and get to work, catching a glimpse of something from the corner of my eye. Derek’s come up from his room downstairs, wearing a white t-shirt and red, plaid pajama bottoms. Some things never change. If I squint hard enough he looks like his younger self, and it almost feels like we’ve stepped back in time.

“Where’s Serena?” I ask.

“Oh, I sent her to the store this morning to grab a few things,” Mom answers. “She just loves to grocery shop so she offered, and me, I’ve done it a million times, and I’m sick of it. More power to her.”

Ever since Serena moved to Rixton Falls, she’s fully embraced the simple life. I still get a kick out of the fact that she’d never grocery shopped until this year. Now she loves it, making organized lists and strategizing with coupons and specials for the fun of it.

“The grocery stores are open today?” Royal asks.

“Palmer Foods is,” Mom says. “But only from eight to noon.”

“Morning.” Daphne shuffles into the kitchen, her feet in cable-knit slippers and Haven on her hip. “Merry Christmas!”

“I’m hungry.” Haven drags the back of her hand across her eyes, brushing her messy blonde hair out of the way.

“We’re making breakfast right now, sweetie,” Mom calls out. “Why don’t you go check out the Christmas tree? I think I heard sleigh bells last night. Maybe Santa was here?”

Haven’s face lights, her big blue eyes round as saucers, and she slides down Daphne’s leg and makes a running leap toward the living room. A second later we hear a squeal of joy, and she runs back into the kitchen carrying a square package cloaked in reindeer wrapping paper and a big, gold bow.

“There are so many presents!” Haven jumps up and down, and whatever’s in her box rattles. “Can I hope them right now? Please?”

“We have to wait for Aunt Delilah to get here,” Dad says. “Should be any minute, Haven. Be patient, angel.”

The front door creaks open a few minute later, and the sound of tromping boots fills the foyer.

“I think they’re here . . .” I say, grinning. I rinse my sticky hands and pat them dry before running to greet Delilah and Zane. I thought I’d be more nervous about meeting Zane, but I’m not at all. I’ve never watched a game of football in my life, except when Royal has it playing in the background and I’m nose deep in a glossy magazine, and until Delilah mentioned his name, I’d never heard it before.

The foyer is dark, but I see their outlines; one clearly bigger than the other. I didn’t realize he’d be so big, then again, it makes sense. Professional athletes train hard, and they’re usually not small.

There’s a bag of presents in Zane’s hands, and he sits them down carefully.

Mom comes from behind me, flicking on the overhead light and rushing toward the two of them. She wraps them in a simultaneous hug, her standard greeting whether or not you know her that well.

“Look at you!” Mom stares up at Zane, and he smiles. He’s handsome. Even better looking than on TV. His skin is smooth like caramel and his eyes are almost a golden-brown. When he grins, he has dimples, like Royal’s.

Delilah and I make eye contact, exchanging smiles and watching as Mom fawns all over this poor guy.

“Did you have a nice flight?” Mom takes Zane by the hand, leading him to the kitchen. She’s always been a sort of one-woman welcoming committee, taking all our friends and visitors into her home with open arms. “Are you any good in the kitchen? Delilah tells me you make excellent Spanish food. I found a recipe for
torrijas
. Am I saying that right? Anyway, I thought we could make something together . . .”

Mom’s voice fades as they move to the kitchen, and my sister and I laugh.

“How are you?” I ask.

“Good.” She yanks the cream-colored scarf from her neck and unbuttons her coat before stepping out of snowy boots. “Busy. But good. One more semester of grad school. Thank God. And then football season should be over in the next month or so. I’m ready for summer already. How have you been?”

She hooks her arm into mine and we walk in tandem down the hall, taking our time and tuning out the hustle and bustle coming from the kitchen.

“Everything’s great,” I say. “Royal’s finishing up his pre-law degree and trying to decide where to go for law school. We might stick around. We might not.” I shrug. “We’ll see which direction the wind blows us, although I kind of like not knowing what’s going to happen next.”

Delilah rolls her eyes and bats her hand. “Give me a break. I can tell you exactly what’s going to happen next. You two are going to stick around Rixton Falls, get married, have a couple kids, and live happily ever after. Doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure that out.”

I bump into her with my shoulder, my heart feeling ridiculously full at the thought of spending a lifetime with the man I never stopped loving.

“Aunt Delilah!” Haven runs into my sister’s arms, and she scoops her up. “I’ve missed you so, so much. Have you missed me?”

“Of course I have.” Delilah gives her a peck on the cheek. “You’re my favorite niece in the whole, entire world.”

“Who’s that man in the kitchen with Mimi?”

“That’s my boyfriend,” Delilah states proudly. “His name is Zane.”

“You have a boyfriend?” Haven seems shocked by this, though I’m not even sure she understands what a boyfriend is. “I don’t like boys.”

“Good,” Derek says from across the room.

Haven wraps her arms tightly around Delilah’s neck and then slides down. “Guess what?”

“What?” Delilah asks.

“Santa came here last night when we were all sleeping.” She swings her hips back and forth. “
And
he brought presents!”

“That’s amazing, Haven,” Delilah glances toward the living room. “Want to show me?”

They run off together, and I gaze toward the kitchen island where Mom’s already putting Zane to work. His sweater sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and he’s wearing one of her home-sewn aprons. At least it’s the lobster one and not the granny flowers.

I chuckle to myself, hoping Delilah comes back in time to see what Mom’s done with her boyfriend.

“How’re you doing?” I place my hand on Daphne’s back, taking the spot beside her at the far end of the table. She seems almost despondent today.

To my right, Dad, Derek, and Royal are deep in some heated debate about some legal case the practice has recently taken on, paying us no mind.

Daphne rests her elbows on the table, placing her chin against the top of her folded hands as she stares out the window toward our backyard. She focuses on the old treehouse, and I still can’t believe my parents haven’t torn it down. Mom says it has too many good memories attached to it, but I think Dad’s too cheap to hire someone to get rid of it.

“I don’t know.” Daphne sighs, her shoulders slumping. “It’s nice seeing everyone so . . . happy, but . . .”

“But what?”

Her lips form a pained smile, and she blinks slowly. “The holidays are kind of lonely when you don’t have anyone, you know?”

“What are you talking about? You have us? You have an entire house full of people to spend time with.”

“No, not like that,” she says.

I tilt my head to the side, studying her angled features and the way the corners of her mouth seem to droop just a little, like they’re stuck that way. She always used to be so happy, so full of light and life. Ever since she came back from Paris last May, she’s been a different person.

“I just want what you guys have.” Daphne turns to me. “You and Royal. Delilah and Zane. Derek and Serena.”

“Aw.” I slip my arm around her shoulders, leaning in closer. “Sweets, it’ll happen for you. You’ll meet someone amazing when you least expect it.”

“That’s what I thought when I met Weston.” She offers a bittersweet smile. “I was convinced we had something going there for a while.”

“But you broke up with him,” I gently remind her.

“I had no choice,” she says. “He was still in love with his ex. And I’m not mad at him for it. The man couldn’t help it. He didn’t want to be in love with her anymore, but she was his first love, and they were together a long time, and moving on wasn’t as easy as he thought it would be. I couldn’t compete with that. I shouldn’t have to convince anybody to fall out of love with someone else in order to fall in love with me.”

“You’re exactly right.” I rub circles into her back.

“If I hadn’t have called it off, he’d probably be here right now,” she says with a sigh. “And I guarantee you he’d be thinking about her the whole time.”

I press my forehead against her shoulder. “You’re stronger than you realize, Daph. There aren’t a lot of people who would’ve had the courage to call it quits. Most people would’ve stuck around, waiting for things to get better, convinced all it’ll take is a little more time.”

She pulls herself away, sitting up straight. “Yeah, well, there are only so many times a girl can catch the guy she’s dating checking his ex’s Facebook page. It was sad the first time. The third time, I was a little taken aback. But the twentieth time? That’s when I knew this wasn’t going to get better with time.”

“I’m baaaaack.” Serena flounces through the garage entry, plastic bags in hand. “That place was an absolute zoo. They should really consider offering valet parking, especially on holidays.”

She places the bags on a small cleared section of the island. Mom unloads the items, giving Serena a tight hug and thanking her before introducing her to Zane. Serena makes small talk with the brawny football player who completely dwarfs her, and Derek watches closely. Not that he’s jealous, but whenever she’s around, no matter what she’s doing, he can never seem to stop staring at her.