Chapter 6 Chapter 6

Chapter 6 Chapter 6
Misty

The alarm blared at 4:30 a.m., and I groaned. Cricket stirred, but I kissed her brow and tucked her back into my bed. She could go another hour or two, but I, on the other hand, needed to move the food downstairs and get breakfast started. I pulled on a pair of leggings and a threadbare T-shirt over my sports bra, and boy shorts I had slept in, and groggily made my way to the bathroom. I glanced down the hall to see the form of Beck sitting up on the couch. I was surprised he even stayed. That was one pass; we would see how he fared with the door and Mrs. Gonzales this morning. I relieved myself and brushed my teeth, not bothering with my hair right now, I could really care less. My bare feet were quiet on the floorboards as I made my way to the kitchen and turned on the coffee pot. I yawned as Beck turned on the light, and I glared at him. He gave me a sheepish look as I grabbed my pot holders, removed the first crock pot insert, and made my way to the broken door. He pushed it open for me, but paused like he meant to follow, but looked back down the hall to where Cricket was asleep.

“Stay with her,” I said groggily before turning my back to him and making my way down the stairs. Had I really felt safe enough to leave him with her? What the hell was wrong with me? I hurriedly placed the crockpot insert down and rushed back upstairs, suddenly awake, only to find Beck pushing a bowl of cereal across the counter to Cricket. I paused and blinked. She was wide awake and animatedly talking with him, but the words were lost to me. She didn’t warm up to just anyone. Adelaide and I were her world. I liked it that way; it was what was safe, what was sure. However, she needed someone like her, though. Maybe if Adelaide really was part shifter, it was why they clicked so well; she had unknowingly filled so many of Cricket’s needs. It all made sense now. From the moment Ads had held Cricket after she was born, I knew my daughter needed her in her life, and maybe Cricket had been a link that Adelaide didn’t know she needed. There had been times I had been a little jealous of how easily the two coexisted. It made sense; she needed more than just me. I wasn’t enough for her. I cleared my throat, pushing the emotion back as I walked around the counter, made two cups of coffee, and handed Beck a mug. He took it and glanced around. 

“Have any sugar?” he asked. I just grunted. I wasn’t much for words this early and reached into the cabinet and pulled the bag out. It was tucked into a large ziplock bag. He poured an ungodly amount in and stirred it with his finger. I watched, partially in shock, before he took the mug to his lips, and I became mesmerized as I watched his throat swallow. Cricket said something, and I pulled my gaze away, taking a sip of my own and looking at her over the top of my mug.

“Mom, it’s picture day. Can you do my hair?” she asked, and I inwardly cringed and throttled myself for forgetting.

“Sure, baby,” I said, and went for the next pot to deliver downstairs, leaving my cup discarded on the counter. I had better move all this food if I was going to have time to do her hair half justice. Cricket’s hair was a mess of beautiful curls when done right. Adelaide had mastered it. I, on the other hand, chose to wear my hair short for its maintenance. I had never figured out how to properly upkeep it. She had my mother’s hair, while mine was more relaxed. 

“Hop in the shower when you are done,” I hollered over my shoulder. Normally, Ads had this all on her calendar and just showed up and helped with it. My mental load had a hard time dealing with dates and times outside of my normal schedule. Ads had been gone for three weeks at this point. The only reason I realized something was wrong was that she hadn’t picked Cricket up from school on the first Friday she went missing, and I had to go get her. My calls had gone unanswered, messages sent straight to voicemail. In my mind, Adelaide had it all together and I was the hot mess tumbling through life. When she went silent it had all fallen on me and I was drowning without her. My mind swam as I focused on running up and down the stairs with the food, eyes checking in on my daughter, still honed in on Beck every time I reentered the apartment. When I finished with the last, the sound of the shower told me my initial panic of not seeing her at the table was unwarranted. Beck wasn’t here to sell us out.

I went to reach for my cold cup of coffee, but Beck inserted a fresh one into my hand and squeezed my shoulder.

“You’re doing great, Mama,” he said, before giving my shoulder another squeeze and pulling away. The loss of the gesture was too much; I forced the tears that threatened back. Immediately, I felt the vacancy of the warmth his hand had granted. How had he so clearly seen me when nobody else had? Penetrated my weakness, the thing I questioned about myself every day, and so simply punctured the barrier I thought was steeled. I glanced over at him as he stared at the door, sizing it up. I took in a long sip of the warm liquid, and as I did, I suddenly felt better. I sat in the sweet silence and closed my eyes, letting it wash over me for a few precious seconds.