What the Heart Wants

More Digression -15

Once London was gone, the fireworks began. Clint and Dale tore into each other in earnest. It may have been more helpful to just provide them with weapons and see how it worked itself out. As it stood, Sasha wasn’t so sure she would bet against Dale. She could see why England would have been drawn to Clint, he was simply the younger version of her own father. Not physically, of course, but in tone, authority, intensity… it was unbelievable that they themselves hadn’t yet discovered this, knowing each other for more than 20 years.

But life was in the way. Contrary interests, differing objectives… even their obvious adoration of London wasn’t enough to bridge this gap of mutual dislike, distrust, disrespect.

As Sasha locked eyes with Virginia, both women winced at the latest torrent of obscenities unleashed… both women obviously mutually uncomfortable with the current state of affairs.

Slightly jerking her head in the direction of the kitchen, Sasha invited Virginia to abscond the non-productive interchange in favor of the quiet solitude of the kitchen.

Both women silently rose and retreated to the other room, to the wide eyes and unusually absent protests of their husbands.

Sasha was the first to laugh, a nervous giggle, hiccup of a sound that she tried to stifle with her hand before it could escape. Virginia burst into full-bodied whooping laughter in response to Sasha’s wide-eyed guilty, crestfallen look at not being able to contain her relieved giggle.

As their laughter subsided, the women both took a sobering breath… sizing each other up for truly the first time.

Sucking in a breath, “I think I’m going to have some tea, would you like some?” Sasha asked Virginia.

“Only if it’s Irish,” she stated matter-of-factly, not even noticing when Sasha paused to check to see if she was indeed serious.

“A woman after my own heart,” She said almost to herself as Virginia took the farthest seat from the stove.

The soft chuckle from Virginia alerted Sasha to the fact that she’d said that aloud, making her whole body pause guiltily.

“I guess there just is no way that this won’t be awkward and strange. Even if my daughter did wish it.” Virginia said, staring directly at Sasha, giving her full permission to be as honest as she would like to be.

“You're right. This is an impossible situation.” Bracing both her hands on the table and bowing her head, she didn’t notice Virginia rise until she felt her gentle hand on her shoulder.

Sasha couldn’t explain the compulsion to fly into Virginia's arms, but that’s exactly what she allowed herself to do. The simple comfort of the hug seemed to last longer than either woman should be comfortable with, and yet they held on… feeling a strange new kinship and an unrecognizable familiar bond.

Pulling away, Sasha couldn’t look directly at Virginia, but Virginia straightened her clothes, smoothed her hair and chucked Sasha under the chin to force her gaze.

“Everything will be okay.” Virginia reassured her. The deep breath Sasha was able to take only confirmed how shallowly she’d been breathing all afternoon.

The influx of oxygen to her brain was enough to really pop her eyes and give fresh wonder to the unique situation they were all in.

“You really do have beautiful eyes.” Virginia said, lost in her memory somewhere. “England told me she saw you once, even she was captivated with how lovely you are.” The new revelation caused Sasha’s breath to hitch… shallow again.

Smiling to herself as her memory beheld her long lost daughter, “I can remember when she came home… ‘Momma you should see her,’ she’d said. I expected her to be heartbroken, dejected even, but she was almost proud… so enamored of you herself.” Virginia intoned, lost somewhere in a happier time over 15 years prior.

“She knew that she’d lost him. She even told me that she hadn’t really had him in years… and never the way you had him. She knew they’d never had what you two could have, what you already had.” Virginia said, sitting back in her chair.

“I thought you should know that. England wanted you two to be together, she believed in you.” Virginia sighed, “I owed you that. If you can do what she wanted… I will owe you so much more.” She said risking a glance at a dumbfounded Sasha.

Sitting holding their hot Irish tea, Sasha finally broke the silence, “Just what exactly did your daughter… England believe I could do?” she asked confused.

“She believed that you could heal us all. Even though Clint married her, and she had to die and wasn’t going to be able to raise London… she was okay with it, knowing; hoping that you’d be there. She believed that you would make it alright and heal everyone.”

“There’s no other way to put it Sasha, England thought you were magic. Just what we all needed.” She said, even though it visibly smacked for her to say it… “And I’m hoping she was right.”

Sasha’s head snapped up to lock eyes with Virginia. Choosing that moment to sip her tea and collect herself… the pause seemed pregnant, too long.

“And just how is she supposed to bring that miracle?” came the heavily sarcastic reply.

“London, your mother wanted exactly this. Her wishes should matter… “ Virginia addressed her granddaughter standing defiantly in the doorway.

“Her wishes should have mattered a long time ago, but she isn’t here now… what about my wishes? I’m pretty much raised, I don’t need no mother.” She stated all for Sashas benefit.

“Young lady, you were raised with better manners than you’ve displayed today.” Virginia added sternly, “Apologize.” She ordered. “Now!” she raised her voice at the continued display of defiance.

The crestfallen glance she delivered fell on rocky soil, no reprieve would be given right now… Virginia had brooked as much open rebellion as she intended to stomach for one day. Locking her jaw sternly, she raised an eyebrow as if to say, “Right now.”

With a trembling bottom lip London turned to directly face Sasha, as the tears began to flow… her shock kept her rooted to her spot just inside the kitchen doorway; she stood unflinching as Sasha scooped her into her arms, compelled to try and offer comfort to the hurting teen girl.

London just went limp in her arms and didn’t breathe for the longest moment before sucking in a giant breath on a wail.

For long moments she wept and wailed in the security of Sasha's arms. Sasha instinctively continued to tighten her hold as London’s trembles subsided. Sensing a change, Sasha loosened the pressure and intensity of her hold on London, sure that she wasn’t going to melt into a puddle at her feet.

Ending the embrace the two women noticed the new witnesses to the scene. Letting fully go of London, Sasha was surprised when she didn’t step away or break all contact. She lingered just there, within the quick grasp of her hand, grazing her arm with the new casual closeness that she seemed uninterested in surrendering.

A dancing twinkle in Clints eye was a welcome site compared with the murderous glint in Dales… he stared daggers at Virginia, impaled Sasha and painfully rested on London (who remained unmoving).

She had been right. England had been right. They should have been like this for a long time… they could all feel it, and Dale hated it.

Remembering her wits, Sasha reached out a trembling hand to Dale, “Stay for dinner?” she quipped unsure if this would be the final insult to snap his final thread of civility.

In that moment, everyone could feel the air being sucked from the room, putting an immediate halt to the swelling; “Pop, please” London pleaded closing her small hand around his large calloused palm.

His downcast surrender was enough to elate everyone. Even prompting Clint to clap a hand of camaraderie across Dale’s back in recognition of the new territory they were all forging in this moment together.

During the meal preparation London hang so close to Sasha, she had to be careful of her movements… as to not step on or knock into the enraptured young girl. Dale and Virginia were noticeably hyper aware and uncomfortable with this new level of infatuation that London was showering upon Sasha.

Clint sat in the corner, silently boasting, obviously pleased with these new developments and the recent turn of events that were structuring themselves exactly as he would have written them.

The Wolf king was present, and Dale was aware and didn’t like it one bit. The unintended rejection was more that he was comfortable with. How could this have happened so quickly? He himself knew all the information that Virginia knew… how England had felt, what she’d said. But he’d never given it any credence… and now to see it before his very eyes.

How was he going to deal with this? He’d loved his daughter, but he’d never given her words a second thought. Until now.

Now he was expected to surrender his granddaughter, the only living remnant of his beloved daughter… to this farce of a family. And they have other children, together… what in the name of all that’s holy was he expected to do?

As if in response to his silent query, London turned to him… “Pop, don’t worry. Everything will be fine. It won’t be like it was, but maybe it can be better.” She said with a maturity beyond her years, channeling her mother.

Dale dissented into unbroken sobs. He’d just talked to his daughter, after 15 years. London had channeled her mother, her very words… Clint kept his steady hand on Dale's shoulder, as Virginia scooted closer to absorb some of his sorrow. London kept her tight grip on Dale’s hand, until his sniffles quieted; then she shot him an impish smile that only she could pull off.

Dale burst into laughter, whooping as he tried unsuccessfully to suck in enough air.

The rest of the meal was uneventful, too polite and still weird. With all the revelations shared, the hurt, the anger… the hope.

The hope was palpable with London sitting as close as she could to Sasha, while her proud papa watched from the other end of the table. His silent smirk was enough to convey exactly how he was feeling about what he was witnessing. She could plainly hear, “I told you so.” He might as well jump up and piss up and down the whole table… his gloating was so ostentatious.

After saying a tearful good night to her grandparents London excused herself to go continue processing the evening's events in her room.

A short ten minutes later there was a soft knock on the bedroom door, as she insecurely crept in, hugging to the wall… “I just wanted to say goodnight.” She said turning quickly to exit, totally unsure of how this part was supposed to go.

“London,” Sasha said, standing from the overstuffed chair in which she’d been sitting, “Thank you.” She offered with a small smile grasping for her hand.

London flew into her arms for an awkward hug before darting back toward the open door. Just before she disappeared around the corner she paused, as if remembering something important. “I was just… I wanted to know,” she stammered, twisting her night shirt in her hands, “what are their names?” she looked up at Sasha from beneath thick cinnamon-colored lashes.

The smile rose unbidden to Sasha’s lips at the mention of her children, compelling London to linger… drawing her into their cozy web.

Splashing onto the bed, pulling London behind her Sasha took both London’s hands in hers. She smiled, looked into her eyes… looked down, opened her mouth to speak…smiled again.

When she finally looked back at London, she mirrored her dazzling smile, unfettered. Clint lingered in the corner in his own overstuffed chair, afraid to break the fragile magic being weaved in the middle of his king-sized bed. An unfamiliar magic, even more precious and reverent than the kind this room was growing used to witnessing.

“You are the oldest of all our children.” Sasha began, very conscious of the words she was choosing.

This pleased London immensely. Her own chest angled a little higher.

“Cayly is the oldest triplet… and by far the one you will have to be the most cautious with, initially.” Sasha stated seriously, momentarily breaking the joy of the moment.

London shook her head in affirmation, trying to understand an inherent risk that she couldn't comprehend until she was faced with it. Cayly would be the grenade that they all had to survive. Only time would tell if they would be able to pull her back from the abyss that was yawning before her.

“Cayly was the strongest of the babies, the biggest and she was born first. Then there was Cayden the last born who is super smart but much more interested in his physical prowess. What with being 6 feet 2 already, who can blame him.” She finished with a flourish, making note of the wide-eyed, awestruck posture of London.

“Lastly, there is Cane, the middle triplet… the kindest, most thoughtful, softhearted boy. He himself is over 6 feet tall, yet not as tall as his brother, but much more substantial.” Noticing the confused look on London’s face, “He is thicker bodied than his tall lankier brother.” Appreciating the understanding nod of acknowledgment as London understood the intention of Sashas description.

“The triplets are not identical, which in space and time made it marginally easier for me to separate them.” Sasha tried to explain, her shoulders sinking in defeat, “I didn’t really know what else to do.” She vocalized, grasping both London’s hands in hers… unable to meet her crestfallen gaze.

It was London who offered comfort in this moment, which didn’t surprise Clint as he hung on every word of the exchange, not yet knowing enough about them himself.

“Sasha, the past is gone.” She stated simply, as if that statement was enough that they’d never have to deal with it again… if only life was that simple.

“I know… I just wish,” she finished by abandoning the thought altogether. She didn’t really know what she’d wish for, because any altering of that would change this… and she wouldn't give any of this for the world. As hard as it all was, she wouldn’t trade a moment of these hard-fought victories. And they were all victories, no losses to record.

“London, any mother would be proud to have a daughter like you.” She said, opening her arms in invitation, needing another exclusively London hug. This was her superpower. London had a magical hug. It told you where you stood with her, and Sasha was so pleased to matter to London.

Breaking the hug, Sasha dipped to kiss London’s forehead, and offer her a watery smile full of unshed tears.

London chucked Sasha under the chin, much like Virginia had done, winked at her and rose to exit the room. Swiveling 45 degrees to address both Sasha and her father, she asked, “Can we speak more of them tomorrow? Like, can I see their picture?” she finished eyes bright with hope.

“Of course UK,” Clint chose this moment to rise and wrap her in a hug, kissing the top of her head. “They are your little brothers and sister after all…” he left the statement open and was rewarded with her most mischievous grin.

“Night Dad. Night….” She left it open-ended and retreated with a small wave and smirk, declining to call Sasha anything, uncertain of what that name should even be as yet.

Another question she had to add to the long list of questions she already had to ponder and figure out answers to.

Clint and Sasha stared at each other wide-eyed, at a complete loss for words. What the actual f**k!