by Alice Ward
He nodded, his eyes wide and guileless. “She will for absolute sure. She always tells me that I keep her on her toes and that’s the reason that she’s still skinny because she has to chase me around all the time. So she’s going to miss me tons when I go to big boy school. We may need to visit her so she can chase me around. I don’t want her to get fat. I told her she’d look funny fat…”
I gasped, planting a hand on my forehead.
“…but she just laughed and said she’d eat more vegetables.” He made a face and stuck his tongue through his teeth, giving an exaggerated shiver.
That reminded me… “Let’s go make us both a quick smoothie before Jake gets here.”
My phone chimed and Jagger snatched it up, swiping like a pro. His face lit up. “It’s Jake. See. J-A-K-E.” He squinted hard. “Be…” He looked up at me. “I know the first word is be,” he said and shoved the phone at me.
“It says, ‘Be there in twenty. See you at the trees,’” I told Jagger and he fell straight down onto the bed.
“But twenty minutes is for-e-ver!”
I laughed. “Then let’s get busy making some super yummy smoothies,” I suggested, standing up, wincing a little. I hadn’t completely recovered from our romp into anal sex land and had actually cried a little when I’d had to go to the bathroom for the first time afterwards. I’d cursed him, but I also knew I’d do it again if he asked.
I’d do anything. Anything.
I lurched forward as Jagg jumped from the bed onto my back, pulling me from the memories of being in Jake’s arms. “Hey now, you’re getting too big for that.” I headed down the hallway with him yee-hawing the entire way. “You weigh a ton.”
“Fifty-two and a quarter pounds,” Jagg said proudly. “I’m going to get as big as my dad.”
“Not if you don’t eat your veggies,” I reminded him and plopped him down on the small counter next to the blender, ignoring his wrinkled nose and flailing tongue. “What’s it going to be today? Strawberries and bananas?”
“And kiwi!”
“Alright. And kiwi.” I went to the fridge and pulled out the Greek yogurt and fruit. I spent a few minutes cutting everything up, Jagg tossing it in the blender. I added a spoonful of protein powder and ground flax seed, then looked at Jagg. “Can you run and get my phone?”
He rolled his eyes. “Why do you always need your phone when we’re making smoothies?” he asked in an exaggerated whine, but didn’t resist further when I plucked him down from the counter. He tore down the hallway, his tennis shoes stomping so hard on the wood floor that surely all of New York could hear him. I rushed to the fridge, pulling out a handful of spinach and stuffing it into the blender before giving it a dash of red beet powder. I pushed the power button as I heard him clomp back my way.
Operation Vegetable Infiltration was a success.
When I first started slipping vegetables into his smoothies, he’d asked why it was green and refused to touch it. A quick chat on a mother’s forum sent me to the store looking for the beet powder after getting a verbal beating from the perfect mothers electronically shouting with all capital letters that I should avoid food coloring or else risk being tossed into Mommy Hell. The beet powder did the trick and even added some additional nutrition. For Jagg, his drink was nice and pink, which was the most important thing.
I also slyly added spinach to spaghetti and pizza sauce and anything else I could think of. He did like cucumbers if he could dip them into ranch dressing, so I’d looked up a recipe made with Greek yogurt, feeling not so much like a terrible mother when he smothered his cucumbers in it.
Otherwise, I tried to serve lots of fruit, and I made nut butter from scratch for dipping his apples. He loved to dip things, so I assuaged my mommy guilt that way when I could.
“Here you go,” he yelled over the roar of the blender, then plugged his fingers in his ears. I hit the button and turned it off, leaving us in blessed silence.
For a second.
“I want to pour. Can I use my orange cup? Did we make enough for Daddy? He might be thirsty too.”
On and on it went for the next fifteen minutes, as he happily slurped up his smoothie through the elephant straw Jake had bought him at the Central Park Zoo.
My phone pinged and Jagger snatched it up. “Daddy!” He thrust it at me and went pounding to the front door.
“Jagg, wait,” I yelled, but he already had it yanked open.
Snap. Snap. Snap.
He slammed it shut. “Sorry, I forgot,” he said, looking dejected as he turned back to me.
Stupid paparazzi.
They’d hounded us since the park, asking my neighbors questions about me and Jagg, each reporter wanting to be the one to share our “love story” with the world.
“It’s okay, Jaggy. Jake is waiting for us at the trees. Grab your bag and the wish bowl, okay?”
He still looked grim. “Okay.”
I knew we weren’t completely fooling the paps by meeting around the building. That much was made clear when there were grainy pictures of me and Jagg getting into his car one day. But it was better than the front, the fences and trees giving us an element of privacy we couldn’t get on the street.
Jake frowned when he saw Jagger stomping his way. He shot me a what’s wrong with him look, and I lifted a shoulder, giving him a we’ll talk about it later look in return. Apparently, Jagg wanted to talk about it now.
“I hate cameras,” he spat as he buckled himself into his booster. “Click, click, click all the time.”
Jake turned in his seat to look back at him. “Sorry, bud. I’ve actually been thinking about that a lot.” He glanced at me, and I could see wariness in his eyes. “Maybe we can talk about it later?”
I nodded, understanding that this wasn’t a discussion for little ears. “Sounds good. Now…” I made my voice more excited, “where are we heading today?”
His little tongue poked out from the side of his mouth, Jagger waved his hand like a magic wand over the dream bowl. With great flourish, he dug his fingers deep and made a show of selecting a slip of paper.
He yanked it out and opened it up, frowning down at the word. “H… ha-el.” He thrust it at me. “You really need to teach me this stuff.”
I grinned at him and opened the slip. “Helicopter tour of New York.” As Jagger did some weirdly awkward happy dance in his booster seat, I looked over at Jake. “Is that doable today?”
He pulled out his phone. “Let’s see.” He tilted the phone so I could watch him search. When he found one that left from Battery Park, he tapped on the button to check availability. Wow, there were a few slots available for a twenty-minute tour today.
Then I noticed the price. “Is it three hundred dollars for all three of us?”
Jake shook his head, tapping on the first available time slot. He punched in “three” when he scrolled to number of people, and I gasped at the total. “One thousand and seventeen dollars!” I yelped. “For twenty minutes. That’s highway robbery.”
But Jake’s thumbs didn’t stop. He punched in his credit card number from memory. Who knew it by memory? And I saw a confirmation number come up on the screen.
I stared at him. He’d just plopped down a thousand bucks without blinking an eye. It was yet another reminder of just how far apart our lives currently were. I wasn’t poor, but I wasn’t rich by a long shot. All splurges had to be carefully budgeted.
My parents helped. They sent me money on occasion with a note to do something fun for you and Jake. But they were both retired now. They’d had me in their mid-forties. I was their midlife surprise. The child they’d longed for but could never had.
Surprise!
I came along, and they doted on me but were overprotective in the extreme. I remembered the day with total clarity when I told them I was pregnant. Mom had cried, and Dad had hugged me then walked out the front door. That was what he did. He left when he was emotional so that he could process things without hurting anyone.
; They’d been as supportive as possible when I told them I was going to keep the baby, and I never told them the father’s name, no matter how much they pressed.
I hadn’t been surprised to get a phone call from Mom the day after the first news story broke about Jake being Jagger’s father.
“I knew it.” She hadn’t said it harshly. It was more of a long sigh. “Jagger looks just like him, and I knew deep in my heart it must have been Jake Truman’s doing.”
“Mom, please don’t. I knew how you felt about Jake back then, and that’s why I didn’t tell you. But Mom, I didn’t tell him either. He didn’t know until a couple weeks ago that he had a child.”
“Mom-meee!”
I jerked around to where Jagger was glaring at me. “What?”
He rolled his eyes. “Were you in la-la land again?”
Apparently, I was. “Sorry, honey. What were you saying?”
Jagg let out a long, drawn out, exasperated breath. “Jake was asking what we want to do until it’s time to ride the helicopter.” His hand went into the air and he started making loud helicopter noises as he dipped it and raised it, adding some explodey noises and a few rat-a-tat-tats. Apparently, the helicopters in his mind were the military kind.
I looked at Jake, whose sexy little dimple was on full display. He lifted an eyebrow. “Any ideas?”
“Well, we could just hang around Battery Park if you want. I’m sure we could find something to do there.”
He nodded and put the SUV in reverse. “Battery Park it is.”
While he drove, it felt natural to lay my hand on his thigh. I loved touching him. When his hand closed over mine, I smiled. He liked touching me too.
It was a fun day, exhausting as everything was when Jagger was around. The helicopter ride was breathtaking as we soared above New York Harbor and flew over Ellis Island, the Statue of Liberty, and even Yankee Stadium. Jagger wanted to see the Beasts’ stadium too — “It’s where I found my dad, ya know.” — but we didn’t get close enough, and Jake promised to take him to another game sometime soon.
After the ride, Jagger got nice and wet, which was perfect for such a hot day, in Teardrop Park, running and shrieking through the water geyser with the other kids. We ate tacos and ice cream, shared a cotton candy and immediately regretted it when Jagg went into a sugar rush whirlwind, which we let him run out at West Thames Park. When he got droopy, we sat on a blanket Jake had run back to his car to get, near the Koi ponds. Although Jagg insisted he wasn’t tired, his eyelids began to sink as Jake told him stories about living in tents and having sand in his underpants all the time.
When he finally fell asleep, we lay on either side of our son, our fingers intertwined over his head. “Earlier, I mentioned that I’d been thinking about the paparazzi and how they’ve disrupted your life.”
I smiled at him. “It’s worth it.”
He smiled back, but there was an edge to it. “I’ve been thinking. Why don’t you two come stay with me?”
My jaw sagged a little. Move in with Jake? We still hadn’t spent a single night together, and he wanted us to move in?
He pulled a key from his pocket and pressed it into my hand. “I made this for you.” He pulled a slip of paper out next. “And here are all the codes. I’ve already talked to security and they know you can have full access to everything. You can stay until things calm down, or you can just… stay.”
I wrapped my hand around the key, still warm from his pocket. I wasn’t sure how to respond. The majority of me want to scream yes then rush home to start packing. And a tiny part of me was unsure. Was this too soon?
Or maybe six years too late?
“You don’t have to answer right now,” he said in a rush, clearly uncomfortable with my continued silence. “Keep the key and codes. You can have access any time. The pool is great. There’s a rec room that Jagg would love on rainy days, and—”
I gently reached out and pressed my fingers to his lips. I didn’t care that there were paps clicking away by a tree.
“Can I think about it?”
His eyes clouded, but he nodded. “Of course.”
“I need to talk to Jagg and Cadence. I don’t think she can afford the rent by herself.”
“I’ll pay her for it,” Jake jumped in. “Kind of like back child support for helping out with Jagger all these years.”
I chewed on my bottom lip to stop from automatically saying no. He had a point, and I wondered if it would help him emotionally if I let him do some of those things. Jake was doing better, but he still jumped at loud noises, and he sometimes fell into some kind of trance. His own version of la-la land, although I was afraid the place he went to was much darker than the one I sometimes visited.
My heart started to pound as the next part of my hesitation came out of my mouth. “Would you consider going to therapy?”
His fingers tightened on mine, then he pulled away, turning onto his back.
“Is that a no?” I asked quietly, my heart still thudding hard.
He stared at the sky, not saying a word.
“Jake, if I broke my leg, what would you do?”
He turned his head to look at me. “I’d take you to the hospital to get it fixed.”
“Exactly. Then I’d go to physical therapy until I could walk. Right?”
He turned back onto his side to face me. “Well, yeah.”
I looked down at our sleeping son. “Okay... so let’s say Jagger developed something like juvenile diabetes.”
Jake’s eyes widened and he placed a hand on Jagg’s forehead. “Is he sick?”
I smiled gently. “No, but let’s pretend he is for a second. If we knew that his body was attacking his insulin producing cells and that he would die without insulin, would you tell me to stop giving him insulin and just treat him naturally, eat all GMO free foods or something like that?”
“Um, no.”
“Right. You would want him to be treated with every advanced form of treatment in order to help him be healthy as possible as he lived with his disease.”
Jake sighed. “What are you trying to say?”
Reaching over to lay my hand on his cheek, I smoothed my thumb over his eyebrow, trying to make sure he could see just how much I loved him.
“Jake, just because your illness isn’t physical doesn’t mean it’s not an illness. How would it feel if you thought of PTSD as a physical problem instead of a mental one? Would you seek treatment then? Go to therapy? Do whatever it took so you could be with your son night and day?” I swallowed hard, feeling the tears burn my sinuses. “So you could be with me?”
He turned his face until his lips pressed against my palm. “I’d do anything for you, Skye, but…”
But.
The word made everything in front of it a lie.
“…can I think about it?”
I gave him the best smile I could manage under the circumstances. “Of course.”
He reached across our son and smoothed my hair back behind my ear. “I’ll try harder.”
I circled his wrist with my hand. “I believe you.”
I did believe him. I knew he would try to fight these demons on his own. I also knew he would fail. That knowing nearly gutted me.
The rest of the day lost some of the luster that had surrounded it before. We went through the motions of being relaxed and happy for Jagger’s sake, but the tension vibrated just beneath the surface between us.
That night, our lovemaking was furious, hard and fast. It was like our bodies were trying to force all the hurt and pain and doubt from each other’s. When it was over, and we lay panting side by side, he pulled my face to his, looking me deep in the eyes.
“I love you. Do you hear me? I love you. Never doubt the depth of how I feel, how I’ve always felt for you.” The vice around my head tightened. “I couldn’t bear to hurt you again. I would die before I did.”
“Shhh…” I soothed, my hands circling his wrists, pulling them down when his grip loosened. “I lo
ve you too, Jake. Always and forever. We’ll make this work because we both need to make this work.”
Inside, I wondered if love was enough.
I stroked my fingers through his hair, rubbing his temple with my thumb. Offering him what bit of comfort and security I could. For a long time, his eyes were fearful, like a little boy’s eyes would look as he wondered when the monster in the closet would show itself.
After a while, his eyes closed, his breathing softened, and still, I stroked his hair, feeling the soft strands move through my fingers. As I watched him, I kept waiting for him to jerk fully awake, to get dressed and go.
But he didn’t. His eyes moved under his lids as sleep pulled him more fully under, and I watched him for a very long time. Then my lashes became heavy as sleep welcomed me into its embrace.
It wasn’t the best day ever, but not all of them could be.
Tomorrow will be better, I silently promised him.
Promised myself.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Jake
I smelled it before I could see it.
War. Horror. Evil.
As I turned the corner and slid back into the darkness of a small alley, I closed my mind to it all.
“Team two in place,” I said into my mic, keeping my voice low as I searched the shadows with my night vision glasses. It was all an eerie shit green, a color perfect for the stench of the small town surrounding me.
As the other teams confirmed their positions, I stepped over the putrid flesh of a dead animal lying in the street. Combined with feces and rot. I forced myself not to gag. Breathing through my mouth, I tasted the smell. It seemed to leach into my skin, seemed to change my very DNA.
Once everyone was in place, we got into position, staying low.
My balls were still frozen from the high altitude jump. We’d chosen to HAHO — high altitude, high opening — for this raid, pulling our chutes as soon as we leapt from the plane, floating silently to our destination without gaining enemy detection.
Now, it was time to get the job done.
Chatter had shown that two high ISIL leaders were in this village, and it was our job to take them out. The bastards were thought to have been behind a chemical attack on children, and I couldn’t wait to sink one of my bullets through their brains.