Golden Burn (Songs of Crime #1)

44. Etta

44

Etta

‘Slow Burn’ - Kacey Musgraves

ONE YEAR LATER

“ O din?” I call, striding through the front door, my legs leaden with lactic acid. I’m saved from having to shout again for my husband when he comes round the corner, out of the home gym. Three dogs, two cats and a baby goat follow in his wake.

“Hi my babies!” I exclaim, bending down so the dogs can lick me first. Juniper is the most enthusiastic and the hairiest. I’m covered in fur in seconds. Romeo gives me a sassy meow and saunters off to have a nap, but the new kitten—Stevie—jumps into my arms. The baby goat, Alfred, clip clops around the other two dogs, his cute tail wagging.

“Out of the way. You’re keeping me from my wife,” Odin says, pushing through the crowd to reach me. As soon as our eyes lock, my cheery expression wavers. “You okay?” he asks, taking my bag from my hands so he can give me a quick kiss. His chest is bare and gleaming with sweat, his hair a mess, and his concern is like oil on my tired muscles.

“Sort of,” I reply, finding the island bench seat and lowering myself into it. Stevie climbs up my arm and settles on my neck.

“Was it the surgery?”

I shake my head. “No. It went well.” The emergency cesarean myself and two other doctors performed on a pregnant cheetah at the Montana zoo was touch and go for a while, but not the root of my exhaustion.

“Monique called me from the San Diego shelter,” he says. “The lower building flooded from a blocked drain during the storm. A plumber’s already been out and had a look.”

“Oh, that’s good.”

The profits Odin acquired from selling the buildings occupied by the Lombardos were put to good use. We’ve opened six non-kill shelters across the country. One more on the way. Two more buildings in New York and LA have been renovated and turned into women’s shelters to support those who are homeless or running from domestic violence.

Every day I wake up proud. Proud of us, of him and of the future. There’s still plenty more to do, but right now, I want to focus on myself.

“Tell me what’s making you so sad so I can fix it.” Odin comes behind me, wrapping me in a hug.

“I got my period.”

His face finds the sensitive skin of my neck. He presses a long kiss before he whispers, “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s alright. We’ll just try again.” It’s been four months since we decided we wanted to try to become pregnant. Nothing’s worked so far and with each period, I feel more and more deflated.

“It’s going to happen, I know it will,” he says, smoothing my greasy hair back from my face. “Don’t worry. Our angels have a plan.” Stevie meows in my ear as if to confirm.

“I know.” He spins the chair so I’m facing him. He takes my cheeks in his big hands and kisses me like he’s been waiting all day to touch me. Stevie launches from my neck and onto the wooden island counter, which means I can freely wrap my arms around him, pulling him close. He’s slick and tight after doing a workout, and I’m covered in sterilizer and cheetah fur. Either way, we don’t mind. We fit together, molding into place like two pieces of soft clay.

“The usual?” he asks, which makes my heart swell. Hot chocolate and a heat pack. The perfect remedy to curb the shitty fact that I’m bleeding when I’d hoped to be making our first baby.

“Yes, please.”

Odin kisses me again, his lips tender and sweet. He’ll blame himself; I know he will. But he can’t control mother nature. No one can. My body will accept our tiny creation when it’s ready.

The sound of footsteps alerts me to the fact that I’m a terrible friend. Martise enters the kitchen wearing workout gear and a bright smile. “I’m so sorry about this morning, Martise,” I say, standing to go over and give her a hug. We had so much planned to do since she’s only visiting for three days.

Martise hugs me back. “Don’t be! Odin took me on a hike and then I did his assignment for him.” She winks.

My husband laughs. “Helped. You helped.”

Odin took my advice and decided to go back to school to study paleontology. The end of his first semester is coming up, and he’s aced all of his classes. Every assignment he gets back with positive marks, we take a day off work and spend it together in bed, speaking about biology and how amazing the planet is.

“When’s it due?” I ask, coming up behind him as boils the kettle and cuts up the mint chocolate block into easy to melt shards. I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my head on his spine as he answers me.

“Two days. I should get it done tonight.”

Martise starts to laugh randomly, and I spin to see Alfred the goat has leapt up onto the countertop. He bleats loudly, demanding our attention. I press a kiss to Odin’s rough cheek and go over to give Alfred a pet.

“So, what are you doing for your anniversary?” Martise asks.

I shrug. “Don’t know. Odin has organized it all.” Martise frowns, clearly wanting more information. “He’s been very secretive.”

“Mm. That’s not like him at all.” We both chuckle as Odin puts two mugs on the countertop. I take the closest one, sniffing the delicious chocolate scent. One of the tentacles from the octopus tattoo on my wrist peeks out from under my long sleeve shirt. I trace my thumb over it quickly, my insides melting when I think of that little creature. Odin comes up behind me and traces it, too. He kisses my neck, and it sends shivers down my shoulders.

“Just be patient,” he murmurs against my skin.

“No, thanks. I like being a doctor.” Martise rolls her eyes at my terrible joke. “Come on, let’s make the most of the afternoon. I want to hear everything about all your renovations.” We move around the counter so I can loop my arm into Martise’ elbow and direct her to the living room. “I especially want to hear about your new girlfriend.”

“It’s only fresh,” she says.

“I fell in love with Odin in less than a month. It doesn’t matter how fresh. ”

“True,” she admits. “But you’re one in a million.”

We collapse into the couches, kicking our feet up. We chat all afternoon about love and life and nature and death. Odin comes in every now and then and refills our cups. I feel his eyes on me every time he enters, and a warm rush flows under my skin. It never seems too dull, no matter how many times he does it.

I once thought that only having his attention on me for the rest of my life would be enough. I’m glad to admit that I was correct.

“Don’t look.”

“You blindfolded me!” I point out. Odin chuckles in my left ear, his hands tight on my waist as he guides me through the house. The animals have been put outside in the barn for the night. I don’t think any of them are happy about it. We spoil them too much.

I trip over the train of my dress and smash my hip bones into a nearby hallway table. We both grunt as he slams into my back. Laughing away the pain, Odin changes tactics and decides to pick me up.

“Put me down. My dress is going to rip!”

“Good. Saves me from doing it later.”

Seconds later, free from any more obstacles, he puts me down in what I assume is the living room. The scent of my favorite pine candles and animal fur permeate the air. Add in Odin’s cologne and it’s utterly divine.

Gingerly, he takes off the blindfold. I have to blink several times before my brain registers what I’m saying.

A dining experience for two is set up in the center of the room. All other furniture has been set to the outskirts, some of it stacked to clear the space for a dance floor. Fairy lights cover every inch of the ceiling, burning candles litter the floor. ‘Golden Hour’ plays on a loop from a retro record player, smooth and nostalgic.

I’m so stunned I can’t breathe.

He takes my hand and leads me toward the open space. My white floor length satin dress swishes along the floorboards. The straps are thin and the back sags to reveal my spine. Odin trails his fingers down every square inch of my exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in his wake.

Slowly, he pulls my body against him, placing a gentle hand on my lower back and taking the other in his grip. He sways, pulling me into a delicate dance for two. The lights sparkle above his head, covering his crown in a yellow aura. He kisses me as we continue to dance to the rhythm of Kacey Musgraves’ guitar.

“We didn’t get a first dance, or a last dance, or get to cut the cake,” he finally says. “But we should have.” I start to cry and thank goodness I had enough foresight to wear waterproof mascara. He kisses away my tears. “We didn’t get a chance to say proper vows, either.”

Letting me go so he can take my hands, he trains his single, glorious eye on mine, pining me in place.

“Harriet, I’ve said so often that I don’t deserve you. Even to this day, I still sometimes think that statement is true.” I open my mouth to argue, and he leans forward to silence me with a kiss. We pull apart, my heart bursting. “If it wasn’t for you, I would still be tired, angry, heartbroken. And although those feelings will never truly leave me, I know with you that I get to see the sun and smile. I know, with you, that every second I appreciate the little things, the special moments. With you, I believe I am worthy of love again and I am able to have it without fear. I am bound to you, body and soul, and I will spend the rest of my days making sure you know how kind you are, how special and how loved. And if it’s just us at the end of the road and a sanctuary of animals, it’ll be perfect.”

“Odin…” I moan, cutting him off with another kiss that can barely make a dent on conveying the level of devotion I have for this man.

He grips my jaw, holding me tight. “I love you, Etta,” he breathes against my mouth.

Smiling, I rest my forehead on his. The scars on our eyes line up. “I love you, too.”

And we do. We never stop loving, and Kacey never stops singing.