Rogue Heart

Baby Of Mine...

Chapter Fourteen: Baby Of Mine...

MATTIAS

It was unfathomable to me, all the occurrence of pregnancies as of late. And now—Andromeda and Maia—both my sisters are pregnant! I was going to be an UNCLE! Times TWO!

Mom and Jillie squealed while Dad and I let out guffawed laughter, jumping up from our seats to congratulate my sisters, who were still staring at one another in disbelief, while Esen and Notus, who had always been close, ecstatically patted one another on the back...

One arm around each of their necks, I exuberantly exclaimed, “Wow! Talk about double the fun! I can’t believe both of you are going to make me a favorite Uncle!”

“Only because you’re the only Uncle,” Andromeda sarcastically drawled out.

Beaming, Maia lovingly cooed, “When you are blessed to have the best, you only need one, Sister.”

Clapping her hands together, Mom’s smile was the most beautiful I’ve ever seen as she loudly exclaimed, “Oh, girls! I’m so excited! I can’t believe you’ve both made me Grandmother at the same time!”

Grandmother’s booming voice shouted out from up the path, “Oh, my word, Soren! Did you hear that? Our Tuuli is going to be a grandmother! Which means we have two more great-grandchildren on the way!”

“Yes, yes, my dear. I did indeed hear the joyous news. Fortunately, it was revealed before you rendered me deaf just now,” Grandfather zealously chuckled, “Congratulations my little doves, congratulations! Let’s see—how many does that make for us now, Alta? Nine grandchildren and—ten great-grandchildren?”

Smacking his shoulder, Grandmother elatedly gushed as they hurried towards the table, “Don’t let this old man fool you! He knows very well that’s right and can even tell you the exact birth date, day, and time that every single one of you entered the world.”

Mom’s mouth gaped open, a staggered and confounded look on her face that made Grandfather laugh out as he came to stand beside her, his arm lovingly placed around her, “Don’t look so surprised, Firefly. While at times my actions and schedule may suggest otherwise, nothing has ever made me prouder than our large Howling Wind brood.”

Flashing a mischievous grin, he leaned towards her, quietly murmuring before kissing her cheek, “Except for the fact that your mother granted me the privilege of naming our youngest after witnessing firsthand that I was completely besotted by—my Tuuli. Not that I don’t love all three of my girls with all my heart, mind you. But you have always understood me and my role as Alpha best. Rarely complained, unless I’ve readily deserved it—and always loving me unconditionally, even when it’s had to be in spite of your own great sacrifices to secure a bright future for all Howling Winds in the form of your baby boy—our Mattias. Something else that makes me very proud—that our future Alpha carries a great deal of my darling baby girl inside him.”

Hugging him tight, Mom hoarsely whispered against his side, “Thank you, Father, and I do love you. I’m forever my Daddy’s baby girl.”

Wrapping her up in his embrace, Grandfather dotingly murmured, “I have no idea how it’s possible that my little Firefly will now have grandchildren of her own, but you, my dear Tuuli, are going to make for an exceptional one. Congratulations.”

I loved the child-like smile on her face as Mom then peered up at him, excitedly gushing, “Thank you again, Father. And I have a little surprise for you. There's not only a Chantilly cake, but also a blueberry lemon cake with buttercream frosting!”

Eager anticipation filling his widened gaze, Grandfather rasped out, “Oh, my! We haven’t had that cake since you were little and would—”

“Bring it into your office to steal a few minutes away with my father. Just the two of us—secretly sharing cake,” Mom sweetly finished before informing him, “Ms. Dottie has been kind enough to work with me on perfecting the recipe for our weekly private teas when you retire.”

“You mean our three private teas a week—or more, if you have time for this old man,” Grandfather lovingly and enthusiastically returned.

Clearing her throat, Grandmother authoritatively warned, the whole garden erupting in laughter afterwards, “If it contains as much sugar as I fear, Soren, you will only be allowed two teas a week—and only one small piece this evening, old man.”

In the midst of the loud humor, I continued to watch the pair, laughing under breath as I heard Mom lovingly mutter under her breath, “Don’t worry—your Tuuli will make sure it is three and a huge slice this evening. I am, after all, my father’s daughter.”

Smirking, Grandfather proudly murmured, “As beautiful as can be, from the day I was blessed with thee—my heart is forever yours, baby of mine!”

*****************

CARSON

Feeling antsy, I quietly slid out of our room, heading down to Nicholas’ office where I not only found a crowd, but heard that my father had just left from making a visit himself. And not long after hearing about their touching conversation, I linked him before hurriedly leaving to make my way down to the kitchen...

Pushing through the swinging door, I found him sitting at the kitchen island, a huge smitten smile on his face as he stared at the blueberry scone that he was holding up in front of his face, breathing out, “There is nothing like a good, fresh scone. You wouldn’t believe how many bakeries are awful at baking. At least over the years, I’ve become an expert at determining by the outer texture whether it is hard as a rock. It’s saved me time, money, and teeth. But Lorelei’s scones—they are masterpieces. The pinnacle of perfection in every way—shape, size, aroma, texture, and baked precisely at just the right oven temperature.”

“If you say that to her word for word? You will find platters of them in every flavor waiting for you in the morning,” I laughingly chortled, snatching one up myself before sitting down beside him, immediately noticing the two glasses of milk—more specifically the granules of sugar scattered all around them—lightheartedly inquiring, “Is that—Grammy’s sugar milk?”

Moving one of the glasses towards me, my father softly chortled that it was my Grammy’s special milk, which while she was definitely not the greatest cook, was also the pinnacle of perfection. But no matter how many times I’ve tried, I’ve never been able to make it taste like she did. Taking a sip from the glass, I fell back in the chair, gleefully sighing, “Oh, sugar milk! How I have missed your gloriously sweet goodness hitting my taste buds! So, for future reference, exactly how much sugar am I supposed to put in? I thought it was two teaspoons.”

“It is two teaspoons,” my father knowingly grinned, “What you have been missing are the two drops of vanilla that she would secretly put in it. Something I didn’t know either until I caught her doing it one morning when you were little. Fortunately, she didn’t see me, or I would have faced quite the wrath. Your Grammy loved knowing she could make something you and I both loved, which made her quite fierce about her secret.”

Taking another large swig from the glass, I murmured in deep admiration, “Grammy could definitely be fierce when crossed. I still miss her every day, though, especially that crazy cackle of hers. I loved making her laugh. And I loved her special milk, so thanks for telling me her secret.”

Grabbing another scone, he sincerely replied, “You’re welcome. I miss her too, though no one but you and my father could make her laugh like that. Another thing your Grammy loved—seeing so much of your grandfather in you. She always said that you were my greatest gift to her, helping Mother not miss Father so much. And you were undoubtedly the reason she fought so hard to live despite the severe heart failure that plagued her.”

Both our jaws tensing, I attempted to divert the subject, not that it was any easier than this one, “Thanks for what you said to everyone in Nicholas’ office. They really appreciated it. I did too. Well, with the exception of this bonding thing between you and Tink. After everything I’ve told you, how could you do that to me? Making friends with the Dark One has given her new ammo to use in my torment!”

Chuckling under his breath, my father retorted, “You really don’t see it, do you?” After I shot him a perplexed look of confusion, he leaned towards me, pointedly stating, “In just the two interactions I’ve had with Tink—her deeply held convictions, the way she speaks her mind, her humor, responses, and reactions—the way she challenges you, Carson. How can you not see that Tink reminds you of your Grammy?”

NO! All the other words failed me—all of them—other than—NO! Maintaining our locked gazes, I reached out, fiercely picking up my glass of milk, taking a huge gulp of it before finally choking out, “HOLY CRAP! I SEE IT! AND NOW, I CAN’T—UNSEE IT! GEEZ, DAD! HOW? HOW COULD YOU DO THAT TO ME? I’M NOT JUST A VICTIM NOW—IF TINK FINDS OUT ABOUT THIS, THE DARK ONE WILL GO INTO OVERDRIVE—AND I’M BURNT TOAST!”

I didn’t even realize what I had done as my father’s stare turned incredulous and watery, weakly falling back into his chair as he thickly murmured, “That’s the first time you have called me Dad in almost eighteen years. The last time was right before you turned six, when I took you rock hunting at the lake on a visit your mother and I made to celebrate your birthday early.”

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small pebble-shaped stone, “You were so excited when we managed to find not one, but two Petoskey stones that I promised I would always carry mine with me.”

Performing the same action, I pulled out my cherished ‘worry stone’, holding it up as I sheepishly sighed, “And I promised I would always carry mine.”

Tears were brimming as my father let out a heavy puff of air filled with touching disbelief, a jarring mirror image nervous crooked smile flashed, leading mine to fall slightly as his haunting words had me hesitantly forcing out, “I’m sorry about the whole—Dad thing. I guess things got so awkward and weird between us that I wasn’t sure you wanted me to call you that anymore.”

“Understandable,” he stoically breathed out, bringing his hand forward to place his rock against mine, “There are a lot of feelings, explanations, and understanding that we all three need to work through, Carson. But this—the fact that you still carry your stone—in that, I can’t help but feel that there is still hope for us to find forgiveness for the past and finally move forward to build a better foundation together—if that’s truly what you want, Son.”

Hearing him say ‘Son’ hit me as hard as my ‘Dad’ reference hit him, causing me to drop my eyes down to my glass, quietly admitting, “That’s all I’ve ever wanted, Dad. Like I said, I just didn’t know if you and—Mom—wanted the same thing.”

Dipping his head down to recapture my gaze, Dad affectionately declared, “We want that more than anything, Carson. Your Mom—despite finding it difficult to talk openly like we are now—I assure you—she desperately wants that.”

*******************

CARSON

As Dad and I were finishing a lengthy and enlightening conversation in the kitchen, which included a second glass of milk, my mother linked asking where he was, leading me to ask if he would mind going to visit Charlotte for a few minutes while I went to have a little talk with her...

Taking in a deep breath, I softly knocked on the door before poking my head in, flashing a warm smile, “Hey. Mind if I come in?”

Smoothing down her soft pink shirt on the couch by the window, my mother seemed to be taken aback at first, pausing the motion, but quickly recovered, nonchalantly stating, “Not at all. I understand your father reintroduced you to the joys of Grammy’s milk. I apologize for not having him divulge the secret ingredient to you before.” Her voice turning unusually wistful, she then said, “Truthfully, as close as you two were, I thought you already knew.”

Shutting the door behind me, I slowly made my way over to sit beside her, softly laughing, “Nope. I guess she wanted it to always be remembered as her thing.”

Tilting her head to the side, I could see the cogs working in my mother’s brain as she contemplatively agreed, “Mmmmmm, logically speaking, that would make sense. Especially as I feel the reason that I immensely enjoyed our time this afternoon learning more about the more intricate facets of your investigative process is because you’ve always made a reference to your father and me that science is our thing. But in truth, while utilized in two vastly different areas of expertise, I think it was proven that we all three share a passion for scientific reasoning to prove our theories.”

Smiling, I dropped my gaze to my hands, feeling a bit anxious as I replied, “I never really thought about it until today, but I think you’re right about that newly discovered cool fact, which, as I’ve thought about it, has brought another theory to mind.”

Slowly moving my eyes back up to meet her intrigued gaze, I hesitantly said, “That the reason you ended our time so abruptly is because Charlotte’s story of how Tink got her nickname made you feel uncomfortable. Their close bond as a family upset you, just like my closeness with Grammy sounds like it upsets you.”

As she turned her head to the side to escape my gaze, I started to feel the return of what I knew—awkwardness flowing between us before she almost inaudibly breathed out, “A rogue heart is always restless as it is always seeking a way to fill the emptiness left behind by abandonment. The heart not realizing that what it seeks is right in front of them, but only if they choose to use their eyes to see.”

The feeling of uneasiness and tension faded—at least for me—as I solemnly murmured, “That’s kinda deep. If you don’t mind, I may have you repeat it again so I can add it to my book of inspiring quotes that Auntie gave me.”

Turning back, she reluctantly admitted, “There have been many times lately that I’ve wished those words had inspired me more. Words that my father used often as I grew up, especially when I would say or do things that reminded him of my mother, who, as I have told you before, was a rogue and left due to her restlessness when I was two. An unfortunate trait that I obviously inherited, despite being born and raised a Crescent Moon.”

I did remember the stories of my mother’s tragic upbringing. Something that over the years, when I was left alone with my thoughts, helped me make sense of her choices and accept them—and her—my heart breaking more for my Mom than myself...

Her parents had met and discovered they were mates at the Council headquarters when her mother, Solita, was brought in for questioning regarding two individuals who were known to live not far from her makeshift home in a remote forest close to Moon Stone. For a while, Solita seemed to embrace her new life at Crescent Moon. She and my grandfather, Jonah—the head Crescent Moon bookkeeper for many years—living an idyllic life.

However, over time, Solita felt trapped in simply being a homemaker and mother, leaving her family out of the blue one day to return to a nomad life in the forest. Unfortunately, tragedy struck again not long after when a band of rogue thieves killed her for the few possessions, food, and jewelry Solita had taken with her.

Completely heartbroken, Jonah succumbed to her betrayal of their connection, love, and family. The once fun-spirited, highly intelligent man broken beyond repair. Which, in turn, led him to be intensely reserved and aloof when it came to my mother, always fearful that she too would walk out of his life one day, never to return. A fear that my mother has always firmly believed led to Jonah passing away not even a week after she and my father discovered they were mates, their connection shattering his heart to the point that it stopped beating in his sleep...

Wanting to alleviate some of the tension, I pulled my worry stone out of my pocket and held it up in front of her, “Dad can’t believe I still carry this around. He said it gave him hope that we could build a better foundation with one another. I’m hoping this will do the same for you, Mom.”

Reaching into my other pocket, I pulled out a small, flat silver charm—half of a heart—that dangled from a quarter-sized round ring that was now hanging from my index finger, urging her through a grin, “I used to keep these in a velvet pouch on my nightstand, pulling them out every night before bed to tell you goodnight. But right after Nicholas took over as Alpha and I was named to the inner-circle, I’ve carried them in each of my pockets. Your charm is the only thing that goes in my left one, though, so it doesn’t get hurt or anything. And they are still part of my nightly ritual, saying goodnight before I go to sleep.”

Her jawline ticking, Mom’s light brown eyes misted over, the momentary silence between us broken as she smiled, poignantly exhaling out, “You have me quite flummoxed as to whether your continued possession of a charm that I gave you for your fifth birthday or the fact that you have just referred to me as Mom for the first time in almost eighteen years has brought a rare burst of emotion to the surface. Though admittedly, both seem to have shocked and touched me deeply.”

Leaning over to grab a small cloth purse from the side table, her hands were trembling like crazy as Mom sat it down in her lap, fumbling with the strings before pulling it open and quickly picking up the other half of the charm that she dangled from her index finger, warmly murmuring, “I’ve always kept mine close too. And oddly enough, I can’t sleep unless I hold it in my hand for a few moments before every nap and at bedtime. Honestly, I’m not quite sure what to make of it. It may take me some time to figure out why you and I seem to share very similar rituals with them.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of it either, but as my heart swelled from the new knowledge, I softly encouraged, “Maybe we shouldn’t overanalyze it, instead just enjoy the fact that it’s—our thing.”

Bringing her hand up, Mom pressed the charm to her chest, just over her heart as she wholeheartedly declared, “I like that suggestion. Very much, in fact. And it means so much more to me than you will ever know, that we can refer to this as our thing.”

Her free hand coming up to cover the other tightly, she thickly continued, “I would like to think of this moment as the first brick laid in our new foundation. The second being a heartfelt apology. I never meant to hurt you, Carson. Truly, I didn’t. You were always so—happy—when you were at your Grammy’s house or with your friends at Larissa’s or Mystic Fire. But the minute you walked into our home, I could see—feel—that my struggle was also your own. My greatest fear being that my eccentricities and hardened heart would affect your fun-loving, free spirit to the point that I felt like a detriment to your life.”

Falling against the back of the couch, I knowingly sighed, “Like you felt growing up—your past coming back to haunt you.”

Her body slowly following mine, we were shoulder to shoulder as Mom soberly confirmed, “Yes. And as our visits seemed to become more and more uncomfortable, your father and I concluded that in order to maintain your happiness, it was best that we keep our distance—particularly me—which, as the years have passed, I have come to greatly regret, convincing myself that too much time had passed and you rightfully felt abandoned just as I did when my mother left. To the point that you wanted nothing to do with either one of us, other than the occasional links.”

Dropping her hand down to fall on top of my mine, she quietly whispered, “I’m so sorry that I couldn’t be the mother that you deserved back then, Carson, and for choosing to disappear from your life. I honestly thought that we were doing the right thing. But in the end, all I did was bring suffering to us all.”

Squeezing her fingers, I let out a long sigh before lightheartedly suggesting, “Well, now that we’ve gotten through all the heavy stuff, why don’t we refocus on that new foundation of ours? What do you say, Mom? Want to find a way to put the past behind us and start over?”

Taking in a deep breath, she slowly exhaled out, “If you are willing to give your quirky, idiosyncratic mother another chance—I want that more than anything, Carson.”

Dropping my head to gently lie on top of hers, I humorously retorted, “I’ll let you in a little secret—being known as quirky kinda runs in the family. But let’s not push the limits and delve too much into Horacio’s ability to not snap Auntie like a twig in bed any further, huh? Pretty please? The last thing I need is for him to team up with Tink in the torment department.”

I can’t remember the last time I heard Mom laugh—and between that soft roll of laughter expelling out and her next words that were sweeter than Grammy’s special recipe milk? I was blown away—wondering how I would ever be able to thank Auntie and Luna for what they had done for me—and feeling more hopeful than I had ever been that my folks and I could navigate through our past and discover the bonds that would bind us together—as a family—

“Carson?”

“Yeah?”

“I know we need to get ready for dinner, but—can we sit like this for a few more minutes? I don’t think I’m ready to give up our little moment yet.”

Following another light squeeze of her hand, I softly breathed out against the top of her long brown hair, “Sure, Mom. Just let me know when you’re ready.”

Letting out a contented sigh, Mom thoughtfully reminisced, “Do you know what my most favored treasured memory is? The day you were born. When the doctor put you in my arms, you opened your beautiful big blue eyes and flashed that endearing smile of yours right at me. Nothing before or since has ever made me happier than that moment—to be gifted with my baby boy’s first smile. If only I had not allowed things to go so awry afterwards.”

Looking over at her with a lopsided grin, I warmheartedly diverted, “I’m going to ignore the last sentence. Focus on the positive, which is a new favorite shared memory of ours now. Care to join me? Your baby boy promises to gift more smiles if you do.”

My plan worked as Mom let out a second soft roll of laughter, “Though worried that I have given you ammunition to get your way with your mother in the future, I will retract my last statement and join you—especially as this has been one of the best days of my life.”