Harkham's Corner (Harkham's Series Book 3) (26 page)

Good. He wanted her to know that he was better than okay.

“You always made me feel like you cared about me. I never thought any differently.”

“Well, I . . . That’s good, but consider this a phone hug, because I can’t hug you in person, and you need one. You get one because you’re always so good. How do you stay so good all the time?” He ran a hand through his hair. This wasn’t sounding right. He was coming off childish, and that was wrong.

“I don’t know—I guess I think about you and your father and how you both would react to something, and then I follow through.” She laughed softly.

“You do not.” He shook his head, grinning. “But thanks for saying that.”

“You’re welcome, but it’s true, just so you know.”

“Wow. Really?” He paused by the end of the couch and leaned into the end of it.

“Yes, really. Do you know why I do the kind of work I do?”

“No. You never told me why.” He took a deep breath, and his shoulders edged down. He was feeling much better now that he told her he cared and was grateful for her.

“When I help someone like you, or even the surly kids that don’t know how to ask for affection or whatever else they need, I get this surge of pride and satisfaction. Because when the world thinks someone’s broken, they couldn’t be more wrong. You were never broken, Adam. You were in a process of creating yourself, and you’re so unique, I can’t help but wish I knew you better. Each time I get to talk to you and be around you, it’s like you’ve discovered a new way to be the best possible human being there is.”

“I do that?” He gasped.

“All the time. Dustin’s lucky he got to raise you. I wish I could say the same.”

“Amelia?”

“Yeah?”

“You got the better part, because I was difficult when I was remaking myself as a good human person. You get me
now
, and I’m close to a finished project. That’s better, and you get to say you were a huge part of me being created and put together. And for that, I’ll always owe you and be grateful. You’re a terrific mother in your own right. We don’t need to share blood for you to be that.”

She sniffed. “Thank you, Adam. That means the world to me, and so do you and your father.”

“And Mari and my kids and Zach and his family. We’re all special to you.”

“Yes, but you’re the cherry sitting on top,” she replied, chuckling.

“Only if I get a soda to drink while I’m up there, ‘cause I may get thirsty.”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He nodded. Damn right. He would be a cherry on top of their happy family and have the soda that accompanied it, because everyone knew a soda went great with cherries. Everyone.

Chapter 13

Adam tossed an arm over his wife in bed while she slept later that night.

She was so tired, she passed out the minute she was in the sheets.

He snuggled into her warm body, letting the closeness seep into his bones.

Button was breathing loud and even, so he was sleeping well, too.

Adam wrapped a leg over hers, gripping her tight, but not so tight to wake her.

God, she smelled good.

She wore perfume today to his graduation and to the celebration after.

And she looked so pretty.

Why didn’t he tell her when she was awake? She had been flustered when she had to shower quick and change before they left after Button’s explosive bowel fiasco.

“Sorry, I didn’t tell you today, but you were so beautiful, I wanted to keep my eyes on only you,” he whispered.

“Mmm,” she hummed, then grunted, pressing her back into him.

There were so many things over the last few days he should have said to her—such as,
sorry I probably got you pregnant again.

He already knew she’d forgive him if that happened, but still . . . It was polite to say it and showed he knew she was probably concerned about it.

“I’ll be a better husband to you—I swear.” He ran his nose across her shoulder, kissed it, then settled back into his pillow.

Mari whimpered.

Was she having a nightmare?

Her body tightened, and she flailed out for a minute, her limbs trying to whack him.

He put her back into his arms, held her tighter this time and talked her through it, even though he knew she was still asleep.

“You’ve got this, sweetie. Remember what Amelia taught you so you can control your lucid dreams? Imagine your dream becoming a person.” He blew across her hair a little. “Tell your subconscious what to do. Ask your dream character questions. Listen. Don’t fight it, and then go through that door you’ve created with your mind. I’ll be waiting on the other side if you want me to be there for you. I want to help you—even in your dreams.”

She struggled a little bit, but eventually she sighed and then went lax.

He repeated those rules to himself.

Maybe he could try it out and see if it worked for him? He never believed it before, or even wanted to try.

Why would he want to control his dreams? He failed at controlling so much of his life, so it was nice to let go of this one aspect and see where his mind took him. It was the one time he didn’t have to worry and could trust his mind to take care of him.

He lay there for probably a good hour before getting up and heading back out into the living room.

With how wired he was, he could probably run around the block several times before running out of steam.

He picked up his phone and the guitar Thomas gave him, and somehow, it felt oddly comfortable to have this instrument with him.

There was a spot on the couch that called to him, so he took up residence there, opened the case and held up the guitar, inspecting it.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, smiling at it as if it was a long lost cousin he was reconnecting with. “You were definitely loved and taken care of.”

His fingers roamed over the strings and the neck. He strummed a little.

“Not too bad.” The sound was soothing.

He never considered anything other than the piano. This was nice, though. It was a change of pace. And maybe that was exactly what he needed.

Each new stroke made him relax a little more.

Each new sound it produced sunk into his soul.

Wow. How had he never been attracted to this instrument before?

He closed his eyes and rode on top of the music like he was above a wave, floating, but being carried forward.

His fingers tingled, and so did his toes.

He hummed something new. And this time, he knew it wasn’t an old tune he’d created before. It was something created straight from the heart, on the spot. No question, because this one was for his little girl. He’d never composed anything for her before.

“In the night and the day, she’s all bright eyed. Curls and pink cheeks, she’s always mine. Always my little girl. Always my little girl. And I’m here for her—to catch her when falling. Carry her when she’s done crawling. I’m here for her, because she’s mine and she’s free.” The song was happy, mellow and yet fun like Meg.

He could imagine her spinning and twirling to the song.

Man, she’d get a kick out of it. She loved music, and she loved her daddy.

His heart swelled up with pride and joy.

His right foot tapped out a beat, and he could easily imagine recording this with a fun back beat to make it a dance worthy for her.

This one he would never sell. It wasn’t for anyone but her.

When he was done toodling around with the instrument, he laid it across his lap, picked up his phone, took a pic and texted it to Thomas, along with a message—
Thanks, Thomas. I love it. I’ve already been enjoying it, and I’ll take good care of it. Any suggestion on someone I can take lessons from?

He set the phone back down and caressed along the shiny wood.

A few moments later, the phone buzzed, but he ignored it. He was already started on the idea of another song. But this one was for a boy named Button, and his wonder dog Choppy.

“They were warriors. They were buddies. And no one could defeat them. They could hide, they could fight, but mostly they could fly. Fly across the landscape, blend in and come alive. No one could beat them, because they loved and it was their life.” He hummed as more lyrics came to him, his fingers plucking. He made all sorts of mistakes and hit wrong chords, but he knew in his head how he wanted it to sound. He could picture the notes. He could picture the way it would sound later when he mastered this instrument.

And he
would
beat it. Just like the dynamic duo of his song.

They deserved a nice string of notes to give them a theme to play to.

* * *

Adam was groaning already. Ugh! Summer classes.

He wanted a break, and Mari was still kind of off at home.

She was walking around like a zombie most days.

Their love life was still very active, but she barely talked anymore other than to help get things for her family.

What was going on with her?

Adam set his book aside. Two weeks was not enough time without classes.

He should read his first assignment, but it could wait.

Knock, knock, knock.

Adam answered the door and his eyes flew up a little. “It’s not pizza night,” he told his brother.

“Nah, man, I know. I was told you two needed a date night out, so I’m here to be like Mary Poppins with my magic bag of crap.” He pulled in a big bag of groceries.

“Since when do you shop at Trader Joe’s?” Adam’s eyes pinched at him and the suspect bag.

“I don’t. It’s Amelia’s doing. You know—she’s into healthy eating and shit. She said I was being rude to feed your kids sugar every time I came over, so I allowed her to get me some goodies. Go on your fucking date, already, huh?”

“Where’s Jill?” Adam stepped aside as Zach barged right in.

“She’s with Lorraine. It’s girls’ night or something. I don’t know.” Zach shrugged.

“So, really, this is you not wanting to be alone?”

“Shut up. Go out already before I change my mind.” Zach shoved him playfully out of the way.

“Uh, uh . . . I’m on to you.” Adam grinned and his cock bobbed, thinking of how he could get into Mari’s head and then into her pants.

She needed it, and boy, he did, too—even though he was still making love to her constantly. It wasn’t the same. She was somewhere else in her head.

It took a few minutes of coaxing Mari into going and answering all of her protests, but eventually, she changed her shirt she said was covered in spitup, and they left to dinner.

“Not McDonald’s,” was all she said once they were in the car.

“Wouldn’t have dreamed of it,” he replied, chuckling.

He reached over and gripped her thigh.

“Why are we doing this? I’m tired.” Her voice sounded tight.

“Mari, look at me.”

She did, but her eyes were screaming at him to leave her alone.

“Sweetheart, I’m worried about you. What’s going on?” He cupped her chin gently.

She averted her gaze. “Nothing.”

“Are you pregnant? Is that what all this retreating into your mind has been about?” He sighed, knowing full well her answer would be yes.

She sat there, her breathing going heavy. Her hand covered his and squeezed. “I . . . Well, I don’t know yet. I’ve taken a test already, and it said no, but I feel like I am. My period hasn’t come yet, and it’s overdue a few days.”

“You’re pregnant. Tests can be negative in the first few days, because there might not be enough HCG yet, but in a few more days, it’ll say yes.
You’re
pregnant.” He stroked the top of her hand with his other one. “I’m sorry you’re not feeling well. And I know we didn’t plan this, but we’ll make it work.”

“How?” she whispered.

“I don’t know, but we’ll figure it out. Zach says money has been coming in from my music, so maybe things’ll be okay.” He smiled and then leaned in, stealing a kiss.

She let it linger and sighed into his mouth. “I feel so gross.”

“You look radiant—so pretty. You looked great at my graduation, too, and I failed to tell you that. I need to be a better husband to you. I need to make more time for you.” His heart was in his gut as he considered how difficult this was going to be on her since Button was still little and breastfeeding. “I’m sorry if I’ve neglected you in any way.”

She smiled, and her eyes softened. “You’re wonderful, sweetie, and you never ignore me. In fact, I worry you pay me too much attention and your studies will suffer. I honestly don’t know how you manage to juggle all of this.”

“I don’t know. I just do whatever I need to so we can keep going. I love that we’re together, though. You know that, right?” He stroked his thumb across the dip under her bottom lip.

“I do, and I feel the same way. I’m sorry I’ve been so grumpy. I’m just . . . I wasn’t ready to be pregnant again so soon. I wasn’t ready for the emotional part of all this, and there’s a lot of stress in our lives lately.” Her eyes searched his. “The headaches, the nausea and lethargy. I want sex all the time, but I’m too damn tired to track you down to get it.”