Highway Don't Care (Freebirds) (35 page)

  Each and every day I thank God for
sparing my family.  I’d nearly lost Ember, my daughter, and then my son
within a year’s time.  All of those times left marks on my soul. 
Something that I would never forget if I lived to be a hundred.  I was one
lucky son of a bitch. 

EPILOGUE

Ember

  “Thirty seconds.”  An electronic
voice announced from my iPhone app.

  Closing my eyes, I started thinking
about all the crap I had left to do today.  Since today is Cora’s second
birthday, we decided to hold a party for her at Air U.  Air U is a large
indoor area that had trampolines covering every available surface. 
However, this was not my idea.  Gabe was big on trying to make up for his
missing year in Cora’s life. 

  He went over the top for everything,
including the party.  I had a little over three hours until we were to be
there, and what was I doing?  Nothing.  I was working out instead of
doing what I really needed to be doing. 

  I’ve slowed down a lot since Luca’s
birth.  Savoring things that I wouldn’t normally savor.  Stopping to
smell a flower on the side of the road instead of barreling past it at
ninety.  Taking the time out of my day to call Max and tell him I love him. 
Coming home at lunch to check on my babies, just because I missed them, and
yes, that included Gabe.  Eating that second piece of chocolate cake, even
though I know it will go straight to my love handles.  I reveled in my
perfect life. 

  It’d been nearly six months since I’d
given birth to Luca.  Our lives have settled down a bit since the
birth.  I’d started my job with the college back a little over two months
ago.  I didn’t however do full time.  I’m more of an administrator
now instead of a full time athletic trainer. 

  I’d tried to do go back to work, doing
what I’d been doing before I had Luca.  Unfortunately, it didn’t agree
with me.  I was working long hours, and I never got to see my kids. 
I’d drop them off at daycare on my way to work at seven in the morning, and
wouldn’t be able to pick them up until late in the afternoon.

  Once football season started, my hours
got even worse.  The first away game for the football team I’d cried for
nearly the entire bus ride.  Four complete hours there.  When I got
home from the game at eleven that night, I was a complete mess.  I knew
from then on that I wouldn’t be doing anything that took me so far away from my
family anymore.

  Kale and June’s story wasn’t a good
one.  Kale went to prison for his activities in the gang.  His
sentence was for five years, and he would have to serve two and a half before
being considered for probation.  Although, his sentence was significantly
lessened when he gave up all that he knew if they got his little brother into a
good foster home.

  June is still an assistant athletic
trainer, but she lost her baby in the aftermath of Kale going to jail. 
She’s a lot more quiet these days, and I let her be, because what can I really
say other than it’s going to be okay?  I worried about her like crazy, but
she was still loyal to Kale, and stuck by him even when he didn’t want her to.

  A droplet of sweat rolled into my
eyes, distracting from my inner musings.  Glancing down at the clock, I
noticed I still had a minute left of this torture.  Gritting my teeth, I
moved faster.

  “What, in the mother-fuck, are you
doing?”  Max asked, the door slipping from his grip and banging against
the wall.

  I glanced at him questioningly. 
“What do you mean, what am I doing?”

  “That’s what I mean, what are you doing?” 
Max said annoyingly.

  Max hated it when I asked what do you
mean.  He knew I knew what he meant, yet I asked him anyway.  I loved
annoying my brother.

  I was sitting in the chair in the
living room.  Max, Cheyenne, Sam, and Gabe just walked inside.  I had
one of those shake weights I’d ordered off TV in my hands, and I was shaking it
with all I had.  I could feel my arms burning, and I was seriously about
to pass out from the pain.

  “She’s working out her muscles. 
Gotta keep conditioned for later.”  Gabe said slyly.

  “Does that thing work?  All it
looks like you are doing is jacking off the weight.”  Cheyenne said.

  What could I say?  I knew it
looked bad, but the thing worked.  It was going to keep my arms in shape
so my tattoo that I planned to get in a few weeks looked good, instead of
stretched out and flappy.

  The alarm on my phone dinged, and I
dropped my arms down to the arm of my chair.  “Sure as heck does. 
Here, you try.”

  Cheyenne took the weight from my
hands, placed both of hers fist to fist, and started shaking for all she was
worth.  I corrected her position, and couldn’t help but giggle at the
sight.

  “Oh, God.  That looks
awful!  I should record this and put it on Facebook.”

  Luca started crying from the bedroom, and
I got up to get him before he woke Cora.  I’d gotten them down to a great
schedule, and they both slept at the same times throughout the day. 

  Luca was gurgling and playing with his
feet.  Hoochie was on his tummy in the very corner, guarding Luca as if he
did every night since we brought Luca home from the hospital.  It never
failed, anywhere that Luca was, Hoochie was soon to follow.

  I lifted him from the crib and gave
him a smacking kiss on the cheek.  “Hey there, big boy.  You didn’t
sleep very long.” 

  Luca was now twenty pounds of chunky
cuteness.  He had Gabe’s eyes, and the black curls that looked so much
like his sister’s beautiful hair.  Today he was wearing a shirt that said,
“My dad can kick your dad’s ass.”  Which was very true.

  Max was a big believer in the
onesies.  Every time he found one he liked, he would buy it for Luca to
wear.  He had a whole closet full, and it probably wasn’t going to stop
anytime soon.

  Changing him quickly, I made my way
back into the living room.  Max took Luca from me as I passed him. 
Laughing, I relinquished him to his uncle, and went to sit next to Gabe. 
He curled me close, and I buried my nose into his neck, kissing his collarbone
where Luca’s name permanently marked his skin.

  The day after we were released from
the hospital, Gabe disappeared for a little over six hours.  All he told
me was that he had an appointment, and he would be back as soon as he could.

  I didn’t question him, assuming it had
something to do with work, and left him to it.  I had help anyway, and
planned to catch up on some much-needed sleep while I could.  It was a
little past six in the evening when he came back.

  I was in the living room feeding the
baby with all the girls crowded around on multiple pieces of furniture when his
bike pulled up outside.  When he walked in the door, I noticed the gauze
over his neck instantaneously, and started flipping out before I saw the
twinkle in his eyes.  He walked right up to me and whipped his shirt over
his head, revealing another large piece of gauze on the inside of his left
bicep, and an additional on the inside of his right bicep.

  The girls and I watched in awe as he
pulled off each piece of gauze.  The one on his right arm revealed the
words
“
My Ember” twined around the bulge of his bicep.  On the
other arm, a star adorned the majority of his underarm.  The star was
jagged and torn, and underneath you could make out the majority of Cora’s
name.  It almost looked like she was buried deep, and the skin had been cut
away to reveal it her.

  The last tattoo hit me the hardest,
because on the left collarbone, the same one that Luca had broken was Luca’s
name.  It was simple lettering, and profoundly beautiful. 

  I wrapped my arms around Gabe
carefully, and whispered into his ear.  “I swear to God, we are never
going to make it six weeks.  I’d totally jump you right now if I could.”

  He’d let out a deep belly laugh, and
vowed that I would get a tattoo.  That’s when I started working on my arm
flab; I wanted the exact same thing on my arms that he had on his, as well as
the same tattoo on my left collarbone.  I just hoped I wouldn’t cry
throughout the entire thing.

  “Jesus.  Do you think you got
enough pictures?”  Max asked while bouncing Luca on his knee and glancing
at the coffee table where I had some frames sitting.

  “No.  Never.”  I said to
him.

  Gabe wrapped me tighter, and I glanced
around the room.

  Our whole living room wall was covered
in 8X10 pictures.  Six days after Luca was born, we had newborn pictures
made.  They were stunning.  My favorite was of Luca swaddled in an
American flag.  In his hands, he clutched Gabe’s dog tags.  Cora was
on her knees beside him kissing his head.  It was a priceless photograph,
because the rest of the shots were either blurry of Cora, who had turned into
the Tazmanian Devil when it came to staying still, or Luca was crying.

  When I wasn’t getting professional
pictures taken of the kids and ourselves, I was behind the camera, just as my
mom used to be.  Everywhere I went now, I had my trusty Canon Rebel in my
hands.  I recently took a picture of the Gabe bent over a bike, wrench in
his hand while the other supported his body on the seat of the bike.  A
red rag hung out of his back pocket, and another was slung over his muscular
shoulders.  Did I mention he was shirtless and sweaty at the time?

  That one I had blown up to a
10X14.  I even considered having it blown up as an industrial print.

  Another of my favorites was of Gabe
changing his first blowout diaper.  I’d come just in time to hear him
gagging from the back part of the house where Cora and Luca shared a
room.  I, of course, pulled out my phone and took picture after
picture.  Gabe had his t-shirt up over his nose, and he was standing as
far away from Luca as he could get.

  Gabe offering sexual favors couldn’t
even keep that one off the wall.  All admired it, and I would never take
it down.  He even promised he would never again bitch about the Twilight
comforter I bought for our bed.

  In the place of honor on the mantle
sat a picture of Sam.  His face looked like we’d kicked his puppy. 
Face pale, lips in a tight grimace, he glared at the camera.  From his
knees down were wet.  It was the one Gabe managed to get right after my
water broke on him.

  Cora’s screeches filled my thoughts. 
“Mama, mama, mama.” 

  Before I could get up, Gabe stood and
went for her.  My heart was full to bursting in my chest.  She’d just
started calling me ‘Mama’ on purpose this week.  We were at Cheddar’s for
Sidney’s supervised visit when it happened.  Sidney was reaching for Cora,
and instead of going into her arms like she did with everyone else, she buried
her face into my neck and held on with a death grip.

  Sidney, being the bitch she was, took
her from me anyway.  Cora was having none of it, and started screaming
‘Mama’ at the top of her lungs while reaching for me.  Big crocodile tears
rolled down her cheeks, and everyone in the restaurant watched curiously.

  Sidney’s face went from a shade of
nicely hued tan to a mottled red in about three seconds flat.  Gabe,
sensing her hostility, took Cora back before Sidney could do anything
stupid.  That straw broke the camel’s back.  The next day our lawyer
called to tell us that Sidney terminated her rights.

  Good riddance, we thought.

  We were never able to prove that she
set us up the day of the accident and kidnapping.  Although we all
suspected, nothing was done.  Luke went through every gang member that was
arrested, and didn’t get a single word out of them about Sidney.

  Therefore, when she was released from
jail last month, the judge made us do supervised visits.  It was a horrid
experience seeing Sidney with Cora.  Something about the cold way she
treated Cora left a bad taste in my mouth even after the visit finished.

  On a positive note, after a whole
bunch of digging, the benefactor that paid Sidney to leave Gabe and lie about
the baby was none other than Gabe’s very own stepfather, Dorian.  The day
Gabe found out, he hopped a plane to Michigan to speak with his stepfather face
to face. 

  Dorian never confirmed or denied, but
Gabe left that day with peace in his heart.  He made a deal with his
stepfather.  Gabe wouldn’t pursue the case if Dorian allowed Gabriel to
move his mother to her rightful resting place next to his father.  He
agreed, and Gabe had it done before he left.  We had plans to visit
Michigan later on in the year.

  Gabe and Cora just crossed the
threshold of the living room when the monitor by our door pinged.  Every
house had this installed.  When the new addition was completed, they put
in a new security system.  When someone pulled up at the front gate, the
alarm would tell us that someone was there.  The camera that was
monitoring that part of the compound would shoot a signal to our panel and we could
see who was there; we could choose to open it automatically, or refuse
entrance.

  On the monitor, we watched as James
went to the gate to speak with the woman waiting at the entrance.  His
slow gate filled the screen, and then his voice asked politely, “Can I help
you?”

  The woman eyed him, and then nodded in
confirmation and handed him a pack of papers.  “James Allen.  You’ve
been served.” 

Ω