HUGE HOUSE HATES: Chapter 27

Maggie’s house is crazy in the mornings, but somehow, everyone seems to know exactly what they need to do to keep the house running smoothly.

Trey and Sean make pancakes while John gets the coffee machine brewing with enough for the army of people who need a caffeine kick to start the day.

Hunter feeds little Dale his oatmeal and chopped banana while Maggie does her makeup at the kitchen table. For a second, I wonder why she’s not doing it upstairs in the bathroom, but in between layering her mascara, she answers at least six questions about what’s happening in the day and what needs to happen later. She is truly the heart of the home and the pillar on which all this crazy rests.

“Cora, what do you want on your pancakes?” Trey asks me.

“I’m not hungry, but thanks,” I say with a shake of my head.

“Nonsense,” he says. “Everyone has to eat breakfast. It’s a rule in this house.”

“Have berries and maple syrup,” Maggie advises. “Or some sliced banana.”

“Berries,” I say, smiling at their insistence. I’m not going to tell them that my insides feel all weird and empty, as though someone opened me up in the night and removed all my internal organs.

Away from the Carltons, I feel like a shell of the woman I was with them. I feel even emptier than I did on the day I left my home to move in with my enemies.

The doorbell rings, and Harley disappears to answer it.

“Are you expecting a delivery?” Hunter asks Maggie.

“Nope,” she says, eyeing the door with interest.

Harley appears, holding a huge cardboard box. “It’s for you, Cora,” he says, lowering it until it’s resting on the floor in the corner of the room.

“For me?”

“Yep. It has your name on it in huge black letters.”

Glancing warily at the box, I see exactly what he’s talking about. Whoever has sent me this package really wanted to make sure it arrived safely.

“Open it,” Maggie says, standing so she can get a better view.

“What do you think it is?” I say as Reggie hands me a pair of scissors to help me cut the surrounding tape.

“Bunch of flowers,” Hunter says.

“A puppy?” Trey says.

“Are you stupid? If there’s a puppy in there, it’s dead. There aren’t any air holes,” Dwayne points out.

“Oh yeah. Shit,” he laughs.

Whoever wrapped the parcel wanted to make sure it didn’t open easily. I wrestle with the scissors, battling through layers of parcel tape until I finally manage to lift a flap. Beneath is a thick layer of bubble wrap, which I begin to pull away until I see the edge of something familiar. Is that Danny’s ridiculous pot? Reaching in, I take hold of the thick bulky edge and lift it.

“What the hell is that?” Maggie asks, one eyebrow almost hitting her hairline.

“I hope that’s not one of yours,” Donovan says.

“It’s not,” I say, peering into the pot, confused, and finding a sealed envelope. “But I know whose it is.”

“Is that a letter?” Maggie puts her mascara down and makes her way around the table to stand next to the box.

“It must be from Danny.”

Maggie ruffles the rest of the bubble wrap out of the way and onto the floor, bending to look inside the box. “There are four more pots in here,” she says.

“One from each of the Carltons. We made them together,” I say, resting Danny’s pot on the table so that I can tear open his letter. My heart beats fast, a staccato rhythm in my chest. I want to know what’s written on the expensive stationery, but I’m also too scared to read it. My fingers tremble with every rip of the envelope.

“They wrote you? That’s so cute.”

“And old-school,” Donovan says. “Who writes letters anymore?”

“You guys better polish up your penmanship. I’m expecting love letters from all of you,” Maggie says, pointing her finger at each of her men.

“Fuck,” Sean mumbles. “You wait until I see those guys. They’re going to get an earful from me for showing us up.”

“Yeah, well, you haven’t done anything to hurt Maggie, have you?” I say. “The Carltons have some big explaining to do.”

“And they’re too chicken-shit to do it in person,” Dwayne says.

Maggie shoots him a warning look. “I don’t think it’s that, honey. I think they’re making a grand gesture.”

“Aren’t diamonds and trips to Paris grand gestures? I didn’t read anything in the man-manual about shipping ugly pots around the state to win a girl’s heart.” Dwayne rubs the back of his head, a crooked smile pulling at the side of his mouth.

“This isn’t about the pots, silly,” Maggie says, swatting him on the shoulder. “This is about reminding Cora about something fun they did together. It’s about showing her that they appreciate her talents. And if they’ve each written her a letter, they are trying to connect with her on an individual basis. I think it’s very romantic.”

“You do?” I ask, lowering Danny’s letter. How does Maggie manage to see all the nuances that I’ve missed?

“I do, sweetie. They could have come charging down here, but that wouldn’t have taken any thought. This…” she waves her hand around the box as though she’s trying to conjure a rabbit from a hat. “This took thought and effort to pull off.”

“I guess.” Staring down at the box, I’m suddenly conscious of what I might find within. I don’t want to cry in front of all of these people. Poor Maggie had enough of that when I arrived yesterday. “I think I’m going to take the rest of these to the den.”

“Okay, honey,” Maggie says.

Reaching into each pot, I lift out the letters they each contain. In the bottom of Alden’s pot, I find a small metal keyring. At the bottom of Tobias’s, I find my favorite candy. Danny’s included a polaroid we took together, all smiling at the camera with the goofiest of expressions. Mark has included a tiny turtle made of semi-precious stones and River, the little clover pin he always has in his pocket whenever he plays a game.

Just holding each of the trinkets that they thought so hard about including makes me want to cry.

Maggie rests her hand on my shoulder. “If you need me, I’m here.”

Nodding, I swallow down a swell of emotion that burns like firewater.

Clutching my strange assortment of objects and five letters, I make my way to the den. The couches are ridiculously comfortable, but I perch on the edge, resting everything on the large central table. The letters are all mixed up, so I start with the one nearest to the top and work my way through. Each brother shares a part of themselves that they keep hidden. Alden never wants to admit his mistakes. Danny can’t deal with rejection. Mark is logical where emotion is needed. Tobias allows himself to be led by his brothers and doesn’t remain true to his heart. River is hotheaded, thinking after he’s acted. Their awareness of their faults, and willingness to admit how they impact their approach to our relationship have me floored.

In every one of the letters, they’ve told me how much they want us to work. Even though their father and my mother are so against the idea, they’re not wavering.

I touch each of the items they’ve sent me one by one. Alden’s handmade keyring is so sweet. He told me it’s the first thing he ever made and the thing that inspired his career, and now he’s entrusted it to me. The turtle is like the design on one of my earliest ceramics. The clover tells me that River is willing to risk losing games to show me how he feels. The candy is Tobias’s way of telling me he knows me. And the photo is just the best reminder of how happy I’ve been over the past few weeks.

Just looking at us grinning make me laugh, but it’s watery and shaky because I’m so scared.

These men have been able to put themselves on the line and open their hearts, but I know I can’t do the same thing. Admitting all my fears isn’t something I’m capable of. And letting them in again, when I know they have the potential to hurt me, is just too much.

Maybe I’ll never be able to have a normal relationship.

Maybe I’ll never be able to lay my heart on the line for another person.

I just need to come to terms with it and get on with my life, because what I’m doing right now isn’t working. This half-hearted approach, getting involved but not fully trusting, running at the first sign of trouble, isn’t fair on anyone, especially me.

Tucking all the letters back in their envelopes, I return to the kitchen. Maggie watches as I place everything back into the cardboard box and close the lid.

“Everything okay?” she asks.

“They’re saying all the right things.” I shrug and take a seat at the table, conscious that the men in the room are all looking on with interest.

“So, that’s good, right?”

Shrugging again, I pick at a hangnail next to my thumb, making it bleed and then sucking it better.

“You know, when Maggie came here, she had no idea what she wanted,” John says. “She was vulnerable and worried about her pregnancy. She was coming to terms with the fact that her father had died without any reconciliation between the two of them and that he’d had this whole life with us that she didn’t know about. She really struggled to trust.”

“I did,” Maggie says with a rueful smile.

“So, what happened?” I ask.

“I guess it was a combination of two things,” he continues. “The first was that we showed her what we wanted and tried to be the men she needed.”

I nod, and he smiles, glancing over at Maggie with so much love in his eyes that my heart aches.

“And then she had to take a step past her fears.”

Maggie nods, pursing her lips as though she mentally recalls just how hard that was to do.

“You weren’t sure at the beginning?” I ask her.

“No. I wasn’t really sure about anything. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life. I didn’t know how I was going to cope with being a mom. I didn’t think I could trust these men who said they loved my baby and me…a baby who wasn’t biologically connected to them. All I could imagine was the absolute worst outcome. That I’d fall in love with these men, and they’d let me down, and it would be even more terrible because they’d let my baby down, too.”

“She had to try and let those ideas go,” John says. “If she didn’t, we wouldn’t all be here.”

“So you’re saying I have to let go of my fears?” I ask.

“I don’t know what you’re scared of, Cora. But if there are things that are holding you back from a loving relationship, then it’s up to you to try and deal with them. Only you can put in the work, and you will reap the benefits because life isn’t anything without love and family.”

“Even if I can do all that,” I say. “My mom won’t accept it, and neither will their dad. What kind of start to a relationship is one that splits a family open that way?”

“Parents come around in time, especially where grandkids are involved,” Dwayne says with a wink.

“Kids? I don’t think so. I mean, Dale is lovely, but I don’t want to be having kids any time soon. I have too many pots to make.”

“Forget the kids,” Maggie says. “But the rest I am in one hundred percent agreement of.”

“You think I need to face my fears?”

“Absolutely. You can’t hide from them, sweetie. They’re always there, lurking in the background, getting ready to jump out and ruin things at a moment’s notice. It’s not easy, but it’ll be worth it. Whether that means you end up with the Carltons or with someone else in the future, allowing yourself the permission to be happy is something you just can’t wait on.”

Nodding, I reach for the pancakes that Trey has placed in front of me. I guess if I’m going to have to think about my fears, I’ll be best doing it with a full stomach.