Page 149 of Go Find Less
Vic makes a gagging noise from my side, and Piper’s vision for the morning is pretty dead on - we spend the hour or so at a glacial pace, letting walkers and runners alike pass us, talking about anything and everything. Nolan tells us about one of his teammates getting locked outside of his hotel room butt ass naked. Vic shares that he’s got a second interview this coming week with a company that shall remain nameless, though Piper tells me behind her hand she thinks it’s Tera Bella, a bridal design company headquartered near where he lives. We talk about the fairy ball, and Alex scrolls down my profile, liking every picture from the night before and leaving me with two dozen notifications by the time she’s done.
They talk about Mickey, and I listen with Dylan and Carla as they throw around stories, bouncing off each other to add details about the time he nearly got run over when a car slipped into neutral while he was working on it. They talk about his diagnosis, how hard he fought, continued to fight, despite everything.
I don’t know that Mickey and I would have been friends - hell, sometimes, the way Piper talks about how he hurt her, I wish he was still around to punch the daylights out of. But I think I would have appreciated, at least, the way he clung onto life, onto this group of people he considered family, who stuck by him when his own family didn’t.
As we cross the finish line, volunteers are there with noisemakers and blow horns, and Alex covers Mikayla’s ears while Brett and Penny’s kids run through a shower of bubbles. “Mommy, can we get bubbles on our way home?” Hunter asks, his eyes wide as he stares up at Penny with a look I immediately know could sink a thousand well-thought out plans.
“Maybe,” is Penny’s determined answer, but behind her, Brett nods at his son, earning him a thumbs up from the kiddo, and a stern look from his wife. Piper laughs, squeezing my hand in hers and then letting go as Aria drags her toward a chain link fence, decorated with posters for each team - Piper must have turned ours in earlier this week, because it’s already up, a picture of Mickey in his baseball gear front and center with other photos all around.
Piper hauls Aria up until the toddler is sitting comfortably on Piper’s hip, little arms wrapping around her neck as she looks back at the photos. “Is that Uncle Mickey?” Aria says, pointing at the pictures, and Brett nods, stepping up behind Piper.
“Sometimes it feels like yesterday.” Nolan’s voice is gruff, and I look over my shoulder to see him tucking Alex underneath him, pressing a kiss to Mikayla’s forehead.
“Hey, strangers,” a warm voice calls from behind us, and Piper pivots to where a blonde woman, dressed in the same ugly shirt as us, smiles at the group.
“Dr. Sanford!” Penny says brightly, and the woman pulls her in for a hug. Penny takes Aria from Piper’s arms, and the two embrace. I hear the woman saying something to Piper, who stiffens at her words, and when they pull apart, she’s giving Piper a tight smile. “What is it?” Penny asks, but then immediately adds “Oh, shit.”
I follow her gaze, follow Piper’s gaze, to a group of people making their way toward us behind Dr. Sanford. I don’t need to have seen their faces to know exactly who they are, based on the buzz of reactions from the group around me. Alex reaches into the wrap around her shoulders and then hands her daughter to her mother in law, like she’s a bull who’s seen red and is rearing for a fight. Maybe she is. Because the absolute look of shock and disgust crossing her husband's face tells me that the people coming toward us are the Davis family.
Chapter 58
Piper
I’veplayedoutthisscene in my head a thousand times. It’s like that last big scene fromBreaking Dawn- the future playing out in my brain, imagining every possible worst case scenario playing out until I’ve seen them all. Sometimes I’m calm, cool, and collected, breezing by the Davis family like they’re a bug on my windshield. Sometimes I bitchslap Melissa across the face.
In no scenario was Fitz Westfall settling his hand on my lower back while I stare, dumbfounded, as a little girl runs across the field, throwing herself at Dr. Sanford, who looks almost as surprised as I feel.
Immediately, I know it’s Kayla. Years later, and she still has that same wild dark hair, the hair they said was further proof she’s Mickey’s child.
I swallow the lump in my throat, glancing at Nolan and Alex, the latter of whom looks ready for a throw down. Nolan moves his hand to her arm, and she lets out a jagged breath.
“Aria, Hunter,” Vickie starts from behind me, “Let’s go find some of those bubbles.” She grabs my niece and nephew by the hand after slipping Mickie into the baby carrier she’s wearing, having switched off and on with Alex throughout the walk. If I wasn’t in the middle of an oncoming shit storm, I could kiss the woman.
“And who do we have here?” Dr. Sanford asks, squatting down in front of Kayla. She knows exactly who Kayla is - she heard me talk about this enough, about the turmoil we were going through, as she oversaw his palliative care toward the end of his life. His parents met her a handful of times, but never has she set eyes on Kayla or her mother. Which tells me that his family likely sent Kayla over to greet us, like a pawn in a chess match they’re willing to sacrifice for their greater good.
“I’m Kayla,” she says brightly, and my chest clenches, wind leaving my lungs so fast I ball my hand into a fist. Kayla points at the poster behind me. “That’s my daddy.”
“Is that so?” Dr. Sanford answers, ever the queen of tact in a way I wish I could be. Her calm, soothing voice had smoothed out the wrinkles in several conversations - well, disagreements - between myself and the Davis family, about Mickey’s care, about his wishes. Kayla smiles at our group, and I realize she probably doesn’t remember any of us - we all look different, have aged in the time since we’ve seen her, and I wouldn’t be surprised if trauma clouded her memories as much as it clouded mine.
“You’re all Daddy’s friends, right?” She stares up at Nolan. “I’ve seen you on the TV, Pawpaw says you play baseball, like Daddy.” I try to regulate my breathing as I watch Nolan - watch his throat bob, watch his eyes slide to Melissa and Oscar and Kelsie, to Liz, Mickey’s sister, and her husband Tyler next to them, their kids at their heels. To Zander, who looks as morbidly uncomfortable as every other time I’ve seen him, though he appears to have grown about a foot. My eyes track the group, and stop when they land on the cherry red hair hiding in the back.
You have got to be fucking kidding me.
“That’s right,” Nolan says, and I know he’s trying to keep his tone even, his demeanor cool around the kids still with us, even though every fiber of his being is telling him to lash out. I know, because I’m feeling the same way.
“And you had a baby?” Melissa asks, peering around our group. “Did you not bring her with you?”
“Mikayla is with her grandmother,” Alex seethes through gritted teeth.
“Shame, I was so hoping to meet her.” A strangled scoff comes out of - no, wait, that’s not that Alex, that’s me.
I take a steadying breath, trying my best to not make eye contact with Bethani or Kenny, who seem a part of the group, but not quite, hovering in the back like they’re getting ready to watch a pay per view cagematch. To play devil’s advocate, it had almost happened at the funeral, so to expect it here is less than surprising.
“What are you doing here?” Comes Penny’s measured voice, saying what all of us are thinking.
“We figured we’d just come to support our son,” Oscar gruffs out, crossing his arms. “Bring his daughter to visit some of his favorite places.”
The laugh that bubbles up from me isn’t intentional. It’s near psychotic sounding, like Harley Quinn on a particularly crazy day. But it draws everyone's attention, and I have to fight not to cover my mouth in shock.