Southern Sunshine by Natasha Madison

Chapter 20

Hazel

I watch in disbelief as Sofia walks with Billy toward the tractor. "We shouldn’t be here long," Casey says, looking at me. “But when we’re done, she can run free." I don’t say anything to him as he walks away.

"I thought I would be able to give you a warning," Reed says.

"A warning?" I ask, confused.

"I called the guys last night after I left here,” he says. “I didn’t think they would be so gung ho." He looks toward the field where everyone is working. "I’m going to go and make sure that Sofia likes me more than Grandpa," he says and turns to walk away but stops. “Oh, and you look beautiful today." He smirks at me and continues to walk to our daughter. His words cause my mouth to open and close.

"Don’t go there, Hazel," I tell myself, turning and walking back into the house, going to the kitchen. I stand in front of the sink, looking out at the men in my yard.

"It’s what they do." I hear Pops’ voice in my head clear as day. “Family takes care of family." I swallow the sob, wishing he was here. Wishing he could see the day that Reed learned he was a father. I wish he could see how much he loves our little girl. I wish he would be here to sit on the porch with Billy as they talk about the little girl who holds a piece of both of them.

I see Billy on the tractor now with Sofia on his lap as he lets her pretend she’s driving. The smile on her face is worth everything I have to go through. Being here isn’t as much of a nightmare as I thought it would be.

Turning, I walk to the fridge and freezer. I take out stuff to make lunch for the men, but first, I start making my special chocolate chunk cookies. Ever since I got back home, I’ve been baking every single day, and I have to admit it’s calmed me down when I thought I would be a nervous wreck.

I put the cookies on the tray and place them in the oven and then start making the chicken and cranberry sandwiches. I take out the three loaves of fresh bread I baked yesterday, and also get to making more sweet tea.

The door opens when I’m placing the sandwiches on a platter, and I look over to see Sofia running in. “Momma, I’m hungry," she says. She is covered in dirt, but nothing could tear me away from the sparkle in her eyes. “And I drive the tractor."

"Drove," I correct her. “Go wash your hands, and you can have some lunch,” I say when the oven timer rings. Taking the cookies out, I place them on the stovetop to cool. "I’m going to go tell the boys to come in and eat,” I say. “I’ll be right back."

I walk toward where Casey and Billy stand as they look at Reed on the tractor. "I thought you guys might be hungry, so I made some sandwiches and sweet tea." I point with my thumb toward the house.

"You didn’t have to," Billy says.

"Neither did you." I smile at him. “But here you are. It’s the least I could do."

Billy smiles while Casey puts two fingers in his mouth and whistles. “Chomping time."

The guys drop what they’re doing and follow me inside, and I realize how small the house is when the men have to sit half in the living room and half in the kitchen. "What is this?" Ethan takes a bite of the sandwich.

"Chicken salad with cranberry,” I say.

"This is good,” he says, taking another bite. I look around, making sure the men have food and are drinking.

"We did a lot," Reed says, standing next to me. “We should be done in a couple of hours."

"Can I drive the tractor again?" Sofia asks, and Billy nods.

The men thank me for lunch, and I almost forget the cookies. "Holy shit," Billy says and then looks over at Sofia. “Holy crap, these are amazing."

"Thank you,” I say. “It’s a secret recipe my great-grandmother had, and over the years, I’ve tweaked it just a touch."

"Well, it’s perfect," he says. When they leave, there is not one piece of food left.

It takes them two more hours before they are finished. When Sofia comes in, I send her to the shower right away. I make more food than I should, and I’m somewhat hoping that Reed is going to come back so we can talk.

Sofia falls asleep practically at the table in her plate. I carry her to bed and think about if I should call him or not. I pace for a good ten minutes before calling. He answers right away, and I can tell that he was sleeping.

"I’m so sorry. Were you sleeping?" I ask, and I can hear the sheets rustling from his side.

"Shit," he says. “I wanted to come over to see Sofia."

"She fell asleep at the table. I’ll let you go,” I say. “We’ll talk tomorrow."

"What did you make for dinner?" he asks, and I laugh.

"What difference does it make?" I sit on the couch, wondering where he’s staying. Is he staying with his parents?

"So I know if I should eat before I come over." He laughs, and I can hear him walking.

"Sofia is in bed," I remind him.

"Yeah," he says, his voice soft. “I was wondering if we could talk." My stomach flips. “Go over a couple of things."

"Yeah," I say, my leg moving now. “We should talk about how things are going to go."

"Be there in ten," he says and disconnects. I get up now and make him a plate. I’m sure that he’s hungry. I look at the phone in my hand, seeing the screen saver of Sofia and Pops staring back at me.

The nerves fill me now, and I have the sudden need to vomit. I put a hand to my stomach and walk to the kitchen, hanging my head. "It’s going to be fine," I tell myself. “What is the worst that can happen?" I’m not helping anything at this point as my palms get sweaty.

I don’t even have any time to talk myself out of it because I hear his truck arriving. I look at the door, waiting for the knock. It’s going to be fine. Everything is going to be okay, and when I open it, I see him standing there, wearing dark blue jeans and a green shirt. His hair has been pushed back with his hands. I’m suddenly back to six years ago. The flutter in my stomach starts, and my heart speeds up. He always had this effect on me. "Hey," I say, stepping out of the way so he can come in. Everything is not fine. I should not be so attracted to him. It’s been six years, six.

"Hey." He smiles, stepping in and coming straight to me, standing in front of me. I hold my breath as he comes closer and closer to me. His hand goes to my hip, and he leans in and kisses my cheek. “You look nice,” he says, letting go of my hip. I’m wearing the same thing I was wearing this morning.

"You smell nice,” I say and then close my eyes and wait for the floor to open up and swallow me whole.

"A shower will do that to you." He laughs, and I walk to the kitchen. “Smells amazing."

"I made meatloaf and mashed potatoes,” I say, “with corn on the cob." I walk to the stove and pick up the plate. “Not sure if you stopped to eat or not." I grab a fork and knife and walk over to the table. "So I made you a plate."

He claps his hands together and sits down while I turn to grab him something to drink. “Did you eat?" he asks, and I nod.

"Yeah, we ate,” I say and sit down in front of him.

"This is good,” he says, eating, and I look at him.

"I was thinking," I start to say. “That we should go over a couple of things."

"I was thinking the same,” he says between bites. “Sort of a can- and can’t-do list."

"Yes." I nod at him. “If we are going to do this."

He looks up at me and smirks that fucking smirk I hate but love. “What are we going to do?" He puts down his fork. “I have a couple of things I’d like to do."

"What are you talking about?" I ask, confused. “I was talking about us co-parenting." He nods at me and continues eating his food. "Like I was saying, if we’re going to do this, we need to have rules."

"I agree,” he says.

"Routine," I start. “It’s important that she stick to her routine." I swallow. “If she is at my house or at yours." The thought of her not being with me at night hits me, and I stop talking.

"Are you okay?" He looks up with concern on his face.

"Yeah," I say, blinking the tears away. “It’s just she’s always been with me, and now I’m going to have to …" Turning now, I get up to get myself some water. I feel him behind me as he puts his hands on my arms, his touch searing into my skin.

"One step at a time,” he says softly. “One step at a time," he repeats, and I can feel the heat through my T-shirt now.

"Yeah," I say, afraid to turn around and come face-to-face with him because I’m not sure of myself right now. He drops his hands and steps away from me. Walking back to grab his plate, he rinses it off before he puts it in the dishwasher.

"Want to go sit outside?" he asks, and I nod. He grabs my hand and pulls me behind him, walking out of the house.

He sits down and pulls my hand so I sit next to him. "Relax, Hazel." He puts his hand over my shoulder. “You got this," he says. "Routine,” he says. “We stick to her routine. I can do that." I nod. “I might need some help because, well, I don’t know what the fuck I’m doing."

"Well." I look over at him. “I can tell you that you’re doing a good job."

"If I fuck up, I am going to need you to tell me." I smile at him.

"Trust me, if you fuck up"—I smile big—“it will be my pleasure to tell you."

His hand drops from my shoulder now as he laughs out loud. "I’ve been in war zones,” he says to me, his face looking out toward the trees. “And I’m more scared than I have been in my whole life." His voice trails off, and nothing could have prepared me for what is coming next.