I never set out to be a father. When I met Esther, I had no idea there were three little girls attached to her. As soon as I realized how important she was to me, she revealed her sisters—three of the most important people in her life, and so, by extension, in mine. There’s an elegant, furious energy to these four creatures I live with. But this pandemic has me doubting everything I once knew.
“Another Terrifying Prospect”
A River Reapers MC Short Story
Author’s Note: Have you been wondering how the River Reapers would handle social distancing? I have! So I wrote a few very short stories, just for fun, just for you and me. The following is unedited, so please excuse any typos or errors. Please also be aware that it may contain spoilers for the series.
Donny
Three nearly identical faces glare back at me in defiance, chins lifted, brown eyes blazing, lips quivering. The smallest face—the one that belongs to the five-year-old who used to be my partner in crime—screws up, readying a scream to be unleashed.
“I wanna go to the park!” Ximena screeches, the remainder of her baby fat rippling as she shakes her arms.
I squeeze my eyes shut against the impending headache. This is how it’s been for the past few weeks. At first, we made it fun. Esther and I set up tents in the backyard, roasted marshmallows with the girls in a brand new fire pit we built together, and slept under the stars.
“Jimmy,” I say, opening my eyes and keeping my voice low and calm. She slams her fists against the table, a boom boom boom in protest, the breakfast silverware jumping against plates. The little girl ignores me, because of course she does. Why on Earth would she listen to me—a man—in the middle of the second traumatic event of her short life?
I never set out to be a father. When I met Esther, I had no idea there were three little girls attached to her. As soon as I realized how important she was to me, she revealed her sisters—three of the most important people in her life, and so, by extension, in mine. Usually, I take it all in stride: the tantrums (Jimmy), the screaming matches (Cierra and Abril, who are fourteen and eleven, so there will always be fighting), and the estrogen pool I live in. Not gonna lie, I kinda love it. There’s an elegant, furious energy to these four creatures I live with. But this pandemic has me doubting everything I once knew.
I’m a warrior. I’m not meant to sit tight in my castle, surrounded by unhappy women, my hands and guns useless while the virus rages outside, sweeping away life as we knew it.
I can’t fix this. I can’t make the park safe, keep my girls in a bubble. We’ve stayed home since before the executive orders. Esther’s grandparents are high risk, and we’re their only access to groceries and prescriptions. Safety became our religion before the governor’s ink even dried. But the girls don’t understand it. The only thing they understand is their usually cool resident male says no a lot, and their oldest sister does, too.
Maybe we haven’t said no enough.
It’s hard to tell them anything other than yes after what they’ve been through. I look at these girls and even though I’m annoyed by Jimmy’s still pounding fists, all I feel is the overwhelming urge to protect them. It’s a daily cracking open of my chest, a widening of my heart, exposed and willing to take a bullet for them—even if it was one of them holding the gun. It’s fucking terrifying, especially knowing that Esther wants a child of our own someday.
I want it too, more than anything. I want the whole package with Esther—another terrifying prospect. She whirled into my life and blew the dust off me, sifted through my contents until she memorized every word, and then put her hand in mine and led me into her heart. I never stood a chance.
She pads into the kitchen, casting a stern look at Ximena and then softening when her gaze lands on me. “Just another morning,” she quips, settling onto my lap and wrapping her arms around my neck.
“Ay, ew,” Cierra says, and Abril joins her chorus.
Grinning, I encircle Esther in my arms, plunking a big wet kiss on her forehead, then a soft kiss on her nose. Zeroing in on her lips, I engulf them with mine, giving the girls more reasons to groan and gag. Except it doesn’t take long before those turn into giggles, and soon we’re all laughing, because even in the worst of times, love can turn a mood around.
THE END
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Elizabeth Barone 