Jagged

“I don’t know who his father is, Aunt Wilona,” I admitted. “And neither did Xenia. Not for certain.”

She looked toward Zander and murmured, “My niece had demons.”

I was grateful she understood that. In the coming years, sharing with Zander about his mother, it would be important.

“I’ll need to understand how Dad is with him,” I said quietly.

“You know your father,” she replied and my eyes sharpened on her.

“Yes, Aunt Wilona, I do and I’ll need to understand how Dad is with him,” I repeated firmly.

She held my eyes and whispered, “He doesn’t hurt him.”

“Zander seems very high-spirited,” I noted. “Except when he’s talking about Dad. Then he seems confused.”

“Your father is a hard man,” Aunt Wilona said. “Zander is a nine-year-old boy. He doesn’t understand hard.”

“Abuse comes in many forms,” I returned. “And all of them are hard.”

“I wouldn’t allow that to happen,” she retorted quickly and sharply. “We’d disappear before that happened. Zander hasn’t been alone in your father’s presence since he was six months old.”

I let out a relieved breath for a variety of reasons.

It was coming clear that Aunt Wilona was not like my mother. She was a lioness with my nephew. She raised him. She obviously loved him. And most important, when it came to my dad, she protected him.

“It’s very difficult living under this cloud, especially since I have to keep it from Zander,” she went on and I focused on her. “Do you and Reece know what you intend to do?”

“About Zander, not yet,” I answered, then gave her a hint of the relief she gave me. “We’re concerned about him gettin’ caught in this storm. We’d like to avoid doing that and we want to find ways to work with you to accomplish that. But you should know, the clouds are gathering and, tomorrow, Dad is not going to be very happy.”

Her eyes narrowed on me but she simply nodded and didn’t ask questions.

“You seem to have done well with him,” I noted carefully.

“He’s my life,” she replied.

“Aunt Wilona—”

Her face twisted with emotion and she turned fully to me.

“I know I didn’t get him the right way but that doesn’t mean a thing. I told your man and I’ll tell you, Zander wants you in his life. I want him to have his aunt. You were close with Xenia. You can give her to him in a way I can’t, and you did that tonight, seeing as I don’t even have any pictures of her. And a boy should have his mother however he can get her.”

She stopped and I nodded so she continued.

“And I want to mend fences with you. Having him, he’s taught me a few things, and I’ve learned you’re never too old to learn. So, I’m saying this because I want to keep him, I want him safe, I don’t want his life disrupted, but nine years under Xavier’s thumb, nine years with Zander in my life, I’ve learned what’s important. And doing everything I can to give that boy the life he needs to build a good one when he gets older is the only thing that’s important. And that includes family.” She leaned into me. “The right kind.”

That meant so much to me, of course, I went flippant.

“If you’re not careful, I might start liking you.”

“Same goes for you,” she replied instantly and Aunt Wilona even being minutely funny shocked the shit out of me so I burst out laughing.

When I started to get control of it, I was shocked further to see Aunt Wilona smiling at me.

“What are you guys laughing about?” Zander asked and I looked down to see him come to a jumping halt close to my aunt.

He’d obviously run there because Ham was still down the way, sauntering toward us, eyes on me, assessing.

“Your Nona was being funny,” I told Zander when I looked away from Ham to him.

“She’s like that all the time,” Zander surprised me by replying.

“Good,” I whispered and looked at my aunt.

“Get this!” Zander started, grabbing Aunt Wilona’s hand for a quick tug before letting it go. “Uncle Reece has a Harley.”

“Oh God,” Aunt Wilona moaned, looking up to the heavens.

“I know!” Zander replied, interpreting her reaction as only a nine-year-old boy would. “Isn’t that cool?”

Aunt Wilona looked to Reece and shocked the hell out of me yet again.

“He gets on the back of that with you, he wears a helmet.”

“Of course,” Ham murmured.

“No way!” Zander shouted. “Tough guys don’t wear helmets!”

“Tough kids mind their aunts or they don’t get a ride,” Ham commented and Zander looked up at him, scrunched his nose, and then looked at his feet.

“Whatever,” he muttered, then he looked up at me. “Do you ride with him?”

“Yes,” I answered.

“Do you wear a helmet?” he pressed on.

Stupidly, I hadn’t seen that coming.

“Well…” I started, trailed off, and Ham saved me.

“My bike, my rules. And my rules are, you follow your aunt’s rules. Yeah?”

Zander looked to Ham then my aunt and I followed his eyes.

Aunt Wilona was staring at Ham with what might have been respect before she looked down at Zander and said, “We should go, honey.”

Zander nodded and looked up at me. “Nona says you can come over for dinner. You wanna do that soon?”

I wanted to do that that night.

“Whenever you want us, we’ll be there,” I said.

“Awesome,” he mumbled.

“Say good-bye, sweetheart, we should get going,” Aunt Wilona urged.

“Right,” Zander said, looked at Ham, and waved. “Bye.” He did the same to me and repeated his “bye.”

“Bye, kid,” Ham rumbled.

“Bye, darlin’,” I replied, grinning at him, and then I grinned at Aunt Wilona. “Bye… Nona.”

She rolled her eyes before she gave her farewells and they moved away.

Ham moved to my side and curved an arm around my shoulders as we watched them go.

Then, suddenly, Zander turned around, raced back, and wrapped his arms quickly around my hips, giving me a barely there hug before he jumped back and looked up at me.

“Thanks for the picture,” he whispered.

I wasn’t breathing, too moved by his touch, his words, but I still opened my mouth in an effort to speak but before I could, he turned and dashed back toward Aunt Wilona, stopped again, looked to Ham, and called, “I’ll wear a helmet!”

Then he ran back to Aunt Wilona. She gave us another wave and I stood in the curve of Ham’s arm as we watched them get in their SUV then I returned Zander’s wave as we watched them drive away.

“How’s my cookie?” he muttered as I continued to watch the street where they’d disappeared.

“He’s a great kid.”

“Yeah, he is.”

“Did you see that with the picture?”

His arm curled me closer to his side. “Yeah, baby.”

“Aunt Wilona doesn’t let him alone with Dad,” I told him.

“That’s good,” Ham replied.

“I’m in love,” I declared and Ham curled me even closer, fitting my front to his side, and I tipped my head back to catch his eyes.