Dawn Robertson - Finding Willow

“She’s better. Star, I think we need to talk about us. Things are changing. Shit has happened, and we need to be on the same page.”

He pulls a chair out at the table and watches me work. I don’t want to look at him because I will completely lose focus on dinner. It has been days since I felt his hands on me, and I am aching for him in so many ways.

“You’re right. I have a lot of questions, about your work, the club, everything. We know so little about each other.” I wash my hands in the large metal sink and turn toward him while I dry them on the blue kitchen towel.

“There are some things I just don’t want part of my private life. The club is one of them. I don’t want you wrapped up in it. I hang out with the guys daily, but I won’t force it on you.” The club. This infamous fucking motorcycle club. I want to know more about it.

“I get it, and if it is something you love, I am fine with it. I just need to know what you do for them?” I guess I just don’t get the logistics of these clubs.

“Some of the shit we do is illegal, and I won’t get you involved in that. I’m the Sergeant at Arms. I keep shit straight. I’m the muscle.” I don’t know if I should just leave it be or pry, but I don’t think I want to know more than this.

“If our girls are going to be around it, I want your word nothing bad will happen to them.” Our girls. The momma bear in me is starting to become possessive over Scarlett, just as much as I want to protect my very own Willow. Willow. It is going to be so strange adjusting to call her something different. A name I didn’t give her. Magnolia Star. After me. I guess I could get used to it.

“Of course I won’t let anything happen to them. I’ve done my best to keep Scarlett away from it since before she was born. It would gut me if anything happened to her, or Magnolia. Star…” He pauses and his hands run over his smooth, bald head. He lets out a deep breath. “I’ve watched Magnolia grow. She’s been friends with Scarlett since they started Kindergarten together years ago. This is a small town.”

I don’t know whether I should be jealous that he’s had this time with my daughter, or pissed off that I was robbed of it. Maybe I should just be happy knowing he can share those memories with me since I wasn’t fortunate enough to be there for them when they happened.

“I’m just glad I will have her back tomorrow.”

Happiness is something that has always been few and far between in my life. Finally, I have the chance to be genuinely happy, and I am going to fucking carpe diem.

“This is Ryker,” Chrome says as he points to a younger guy, maybe mid-twenties, with a short, dark, military style haircut. He is tall, but not nearly as tall as Chrome. “This is Cowboy.” He directs his stare to an older guy with a gray ponytail at the base of his skull. His arms are filled with faded tattoos. “Last, this is Diesel.” The first thing I notice are Diesel’s striking blue eyes. His hair isn’t as short as Ryker’s, but it certainly isn’t long by any means. It’s as light as my natural blonde. He clearly belongs in a fucking movie, riding a motorcycle in some gang.

Meeting a couple of the guys left me reassured that my stereotyping of bikers was pretty fucking inaccurate. For the most part, they’re good guys and helpful as all hell. Tonight, they’re helping paint my house. Never met me once in their lives, but they agreed to help out of simple respect for Chrome. I guess being a biker’s girl has its perks.

“Mom? You sure the hot pink is okay?” Magnolia asks from behind me as we climb up the brand new porch of our home. Seeing all the work that’s gone into the property over the past week makes our currently cramped living situation so damn worth it. The old wooden shingles that lined the house are gone, replaced by light blue siding. The white trim of the windows and shutters reminds me of an old farm house and the porch has been completely replaced. We have to paint it, but it’ll wait until spring.

“Maggie, you could paint each wall a different color and I wouldn’t care. It’s your room; you can do anything you would like with it.”

The whole motherhood thing is still kind of throwing me for a loop. We got into our first real mother-daughter fight two nights ago because I wouldn’t let her sleep over a friend’s house on a school night. It was the end of the fucking world. Screams and I hate you’s flew through the air. My feelings genuinely were hurt until Chrome reassured me it was pretty typical for her age. Once everyone woke the following morning, it was completely forgotten. I remember doing the same to my own mother, except my outbursts never impacted her at all.

“Star, I need to know which color is going where?” Chrome’s arms wrap around my shoulders and pull me in close. He grazes his lips to my temple and the room fills with hoots and hollers. I have never been one for public displays of affection, but I’ll never get enough of his hands on me.

“The yellow and cream is for the kitchen and dining room. The sea green is for the bathroom downstairs, and the grey is for the office in the back. I think that’s all I have for down here. Magnolia and I will handle the two bedrooms upstairs.” I turn in his arms and give him a wink.

“Tomorrow, I have to set up the furniture delivery. By Sunday, we should be out of your place completely.”

I ignore the look of disappointment on his face. He doesn’t want us to leave, but there are so many reasons why living together just isn’t the best idea. Even beyond the fact that we have known each other for a few weeks at most. Seven can have her overnight happily ever after, but for me; I need some time for the situation to grow on me.

I did, however, include Scarlett in the planning of the house. There are so many rooms in this place, so one of the spare bedrooms has been designated hers. She can do whatever she chooses with it. Chrome and I argued over it, but I totally won; that’s becoming a pattern.

“I don’t want you to leave,” he says, but I won’t let that change the fact that I know this is the right thing to do. I won’t let him pressure me. I bought this house for a reason; it’s part of my healing.

“This discussion was over days ago, Atticus.” I shoot him my death stare and use his real name, telling him I mean business. It is funny to watch him back down.On the topic of healing, my first session with my therapist is next Tuesday. I talked with Seven at length, but I realized, no matter how much unloading on her helps, I need professional help. I can’t spill the fact that I gunned her brother down in cold blood. As much as I want to just forget it ever happened. He was still her brother. No matter how shitty he was to us over the years, no matter how much she hates him, this is a secret I will be forced to keep to myself for eternity. I’m not up for fancy medication; I just need someone to help me work through the problems I have overcome so they can stay in my past.

What can I say? Life is good. For the first time, I can honestly say that and believe it.

Almost three weeks have gone by since Magnolia and I moved into the first place I can honestly call a home. The same goes for her, and I can tell she genuinely appreciates the stability I have been able to provide. She doesn’t say much; she’s shy, which reminds me of how I was as a child. I often wonder if someone hurt her the way Blue hurt me, but I have to push the thought out of my mind and pray nothing happened. Maybe, in time, we can have that heart to heart, but now we are still just trying to get to know each other.