by Shauna Allen
I wiped off the kitchen counters and started a tuna casserole . . . just in case Ryder was hungry when he got home. Then I tackled his room, though there wasn’t much to do other than close the empty drawers and remake the bed.
Once the casserole was done, I laid on the couch and watched the front door. Every time lights flashed outside the window, my heart sped up, hoping against hope. And still no word from Trace.
I tucked myself under his throw blanket and waited some more.
I must’ve dozed off because next thing I knew, a hand on my shoulder startled me awake. “Tori.”
I sat up, groggy, my eyes darting around until they landed on Trace. “Did you find him?”
He shook his head, defeat around his shoulders like a weight. “No.”
I scooted so he could sit next to me and glanced at the clock. It was nearly five a.m. He’d been out in the cold, searching for his son all night. I shifted and pulled him until he was lying in my lap, and he didn’t resist.
I threaded my fingers through his hair repeatedly as his shoulders began to shake with silent sobs.
“What if we don’t find him?” he said between deep gulping breaths.
“We will.” I wiped the tears from his cheek, thoroughly wounded to see this strong man crying.
I didn’t move as he eventually fell into a fitful sleep, Ryder’s name the last thing from his mouth. I continued to stroke his hair, his face, offering whatever comfort I could. “I love you so much,” I whispered to his sleeping profile.
I nodded awake again as sunlight streamed through the windows. Trace still slept on my lap, his body curled up in the fetal position.
I was torn. He needed me here, but I needed to be with my mom, too.
Nearly half an hour ticked by before he moved. He slowly blinked his eyes open as he stretched his long legs and rolled to face me.
“Hi,” I whispered.
“Tell me it was all just a nightmare,” he said, his voice gritty with tears and exhaustion.
I said nothing and he moved to sit up, rubbing a hand down his face. His gaze skirted around the condo. “You cleaned up.” His words were flat and emotionless.
“Yeah. Kept me busy while I waited.”
“Thanks.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes.
“You’re welcome.” Something about his tone and body language had me on guard. Hurting or not, this was not the man I knew.
“The police will be here all day while we go out looking for him again.” He still wouldn’t look at me. “Thanks for staying last night, but you can go. I’m sure you have things to do.”
I reared back as if he’d slapped me. “I have to take my mom to the specialist, but as soon as the appointment is over, I’ll come back and help.”
His head dropped. “Don’t worry about it. There’re tons of people helping and the guys from work are pitching in, too.”
“Trace.” I waited until he finally faced me. “Don’t you want me here?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Yes, you did.” I stood, my back protesting from a night on a sofa. “Look, I know you’re emotional and I can’t possibly imagine what you’re going through, but I love you. I love Ryder. I want to be here, but not if you’re going to treat me like I’ve done something wrong.”
He sighed, his face pillowed between his hands. “You’re right. You can’t imagine this.”
“Why are you pushing me away? What happened?”
“Nothing happened.” He peered up at me, his body language closed, his eyes empty. “I’ve got a lot going on right now, and finding my son is my priority. I don’t have time for . . .”
“For me? Is that what you’re saying?”
He didn’t reply as he stood and made his way down the hall.
“Wait a God damned minute!” I ran after him and grabbed his arm, swinging myself in front of him.
He froze and stared down at me.
“Are you breaking things off with me?” I asked, even though his eyes said all there was to say. “You’re seriously going to do this—now, of all times—because, what? Because your ex is a stupid bitch who hurt you? News flash, big guy. I’m. Not. Her.”
“I know that,” he bit out.
“No, apparently you don’t. She’s a crazy, irresponsible person who needs to pay for what she’s done. I love you. I want to be with you. Why can’t you see the difference?”
A flash in his eyes told me I might be getting through, but he quickly shut it down. “I need a shower and to go look for my son.”
Discussion over. Got it.
“Fine. I understand. I’ll talk to you later.”
He moved past me and I wanted to cry at his familiar, comforting scent.
“And, Trace?” I stopped him again, but he didn’t look at me. “When you get Ryder back and come to your senses, I want you to know I already forgive you. People who love each other do that.”
Trace
Ryder. I had to find Ryder.
That thought was all I could focus on, all I could think about. I had to get him back, there was no other option for me. None.
As I showered, I knew, somewhere in the deep recesses of my mind, that Tori was right. I had no excuse for pushing her away other than my own single-minded determination to save my son and protect our hearts from this excruciating pain ever again. During the night, the colder it’d gotten, and the more remote the places I’d searched for my son, fully aware it might be his body we found, I realized why I’d kept us in a bubble all these years. We were safe together.
I was just sorry I’d lost sight of that as I’d fallen for Tori and gone against my intuition with Kristi. Now I didn’t know who or what to believe in anymore.
I only knew I needed my kid back or I’d be a goner.
Outside, in the brisk November morning, my family and friends were already huddled around the officer leading the investigation.
My mom put an arm around my waist in silent support as we listened to the plan for the day and my sister handed me a Styrofoam cup of hot chocolate.
As the details for searching were lined out, I studied all the concerned faces around me. My parents, my sister and her husband, Blake, Jesse, Rachel, Micah, and Jewel. Even Mrs. Callahan, some customers from the shop, and Ryder’s football coach had shown up.
I felt frozen inside. Numb. I couldn’t even process the situation.
As everyone dispersed to begin the search, the officer pulled me aside. “Mr. Berringer? Did you come up with any other ideas where she may have taken him that we’re missing?”
I’d already told them everything I knew, which wasn’t much, about her family and friends and the places she used to hang out. A lot could’ve changed in seven years. I shook my head. “No. I wish I knew.”
His expression was grim. “I know.”
We set out and I hit every motel I could find, showing every clerk Ry’s picture and asking if they’d seen a red truck.
No.
No.
No.
The more no’s I got, the more desperate I became. They’d been gone nearly twenty-four hours. She could’ve gotten anywhere by now. Even Mexico.
I was huddled in my car, forcing down a tasteless burger and watching the sun begin to sink in the sky, when my phone rang.
My automatic thought was how I hoped it was Tori. I squelched that shit immediately. I did not want to need her.
I checked the Caller ID. Unknown number.
“Hello?”
“Mr. Berringer?” came the fuzzy man’s voice.
“Yes.”
“This is Officer Varga. We found them.”
My heart began to thud in my chest, my blood rushing through my ears so violently I couldn’t make out the details of his words. All I heard was that Ry was safe.
“Can you come down to the jail? We can talk more there.”
“I’ll be there.”
I threw the car in gear and took off. I probably broke nearly every traffic law on the books, but they c
ould ticket me when I got there. I needed to lay eyes on my kid.
I bolted through the front doors of the jail, my breath coming in ragged spurts.
“Daddy!” Ryder ran from the woman officer’s side to my arms and I swung him up, squeezing him. Thank God they didn’t keep him from me, or I would’ve torn that place apart like a rabid dog.
“You okay, Buddy?”
“Yeah.” He clung to me like he’d never let go. “She said she was gonna take me home and be my mommy forever. She said you didn’t want me no more.”
I crushed him tighter to my chest. “Of course I want you. You’re my Buddy. Nothing will ever change that.” I kissed his temple. “I love you, Ry.”
The officer smiled at me and gently led us to an empty conference room. I drew Ryder back far enough to scour him for any sign of injury. He appeared okay. I hugged him close again and sat with him on my lap. I’d never let him go again.
After a few minutes, several more officers filed in, including Officer Varga. They explained how a lead from the pawn shop where she’d pawned my TV led them in the right direction and they found her high and buying more drugs in a park not too far away, Ryder alone in the cold car.
“Oh, God.” I was sick. I’d willingly let him go into that situation. He could’ve died.
Sensing my turmoil, the female officer leaned in. “Don’t blame yourself, Mr. Berringer. We’ve also questioned the owner of the red truck. Apparently they were romantically involved, but in light of the charges he could be facing, he told us the truth. She’d made up her mind to take your son a long time ago. She was going to find a way, no matter what you did.”
I swallowed the lump in my throat as Ryder snuggled into me, maybe sensing my need for comfort. I nodded my thanks and we finished up with all the details then I took my kid home with the suitcase they’d found in Kristi’s truck.
Ry stayed glued to my side as we unpacked his stuff and I made us some grilled cheese sandwiches. While he ate, I called my mom and asked her to call everyone else with the news. She sobbed and I fought my own tears as I studied Ryder drinking his milk like nothing had happened.
I bathed him and read him a story, trying for a sense of normalcy.
He stared up at me as I tucked him into bed, his big brown eyes shining with fear. “Can I sleep with you, Daddy?”
“Sure, Buddy.” I yanked back the covers, unwilling to deny him anything tonight. “Come on.”
He dove into my king-sized bed and bounced on my pillow. I smiled and grabbed my pajama pants and a T-shirt, closing myself into the bathroom to get ready for bed. Flipping off the light, I slid in next to him, listening to his quiet breathing and wondering how I would’ve survived if I hadn’t gotten him back.
“Daddy?” he stage whispered in the dark.
“Yeah?”
“Was you scared? When she took me away?”
I rolled to face him though I could only make out the shadows of his tiny profile. “Yeah, Ry, I was really scared.”
“Me, too. I was scared, too.”
I ruffled his hair, leaving my hand to rest on his head. “I’m sorry, Buddy.”
“She’s in jail, right? She can’t come back and take me away in her truck anymore?”
Hot tears pricked my eyes. “Yes, she’s in jail and she will be for a long time. She can’t take you again, I promise. You’re stuck with me, kid.”
“Okay.” He snuggled in under the covers. Several minutes later, after his soft breathing had lulled me nearly to sleep, he whispered again. “Daddy?”
“Hmmm?”
“Did Miss Tori look for me, too?”
My eyes flew open. “I . . . she was very worried about you,” I hedged. “Why?”
“Cuz. Every time that lady called herself my mommy, I hated it. She’s mean and smells funny and she took my Daredevil away. I told her I didn’t care if she was my mommy and I came out of her tummy. I said Miss Tori was my new mommy and it made her real mad.”
“Oh, I don’t know—”
“Night, Daddy.”
He rolled over, leaving me with my roiling thoughts. Was I going to be responsible for breaking his heart this time?
Ryder wanted to go to school the next day since it was his day to meet with Tori. Plus, I think he might’ve wanted to tell his friends all about his “adventure.”
I put my own mixed emotions aside and agreed to let him go, but I didn’t put him on the bus, dropping him off at the front of the school instead. I hoped he’d have a chance to talk about any of his own confused feelings with Tori, even if I couldn’t. Not yet. My heart was simply too raw.
Instead of going straight to work, I headed to my parents’. My dad greeted me at the door with a hug. “You okay, Son?”
“Yeah.” He scrutinized my face. “Not really.”
“Come on in.” He ushered me inside, where my mother fussed over me, and I had to admit, it was kinda nice.
Once we were settled at the dining room table with coffee and my mom’s famous bear claws, I started talking. And talking. And once I got started, I couldn’t stop. All the things I’d held back for years came tumbling out in an emotional heap.
My anger with Kristi for thrusting me into single parenthood, which only juxtaposed my absolute love for Ryder, making me feel guilty.
My inadequacy.
My fear of screwing it up. Of losing him again. Of taking a chance on love again.
My mom hugged me from behind, her head resting against mine as she consoled me like only she could. Something Ryder would never have, and that was the true crux of my pain.
“Oh, sweetie,” she crooned. “You’re too hard on yourself. You’ve done a great job raising Ryder, and you’ll continue to do so.” She rounded and faced me. “Do you think just because we had a home with a mother and a father that we were never scared we were messing up? That you kids could end up ruined or bitter or any number of things? But you didn’t. And it had nothing to do with having two parents, though I’ll admit that helped. It was because you were loved and we made sure you all knew it. No matter what.”
“I know.”
“Don’t you see?” she went on. “That’s exactly what you do for Ryder.”
“Your mother’s right, Trace,” my dad added from his seat across the table. “We’re exceptionally proud of you and how you’ve risen to the challenge. We know what Kristi did wasn’t ideal and if you’d had a choice, you wouldn’t have chosen this route to a family. But no one can doubt your love for him or how hard you’ve worked to raise him right.”
I blinked down at my half-eaten pastry. I’d always known they were proud, but to hear it in so many words humbled me.
“Now . . .” Mom sat next to me and clasped my hand. “That’s not to say you can’t find a good woman and give Ryder a better mother than the one he was born to.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but she shushed me.
“I know you’ve been hurt. I know you’re wary of women in general, and I can’t say I blame you. But you are too young and too good of a man to close your heart off like that.”
I said nothing. What could I say?
“You love her, don’t you?”
“Who?”
She tilted her head. Was I that obvious?
“Yes.” The admission was painful. I’d never been good at being vulnerable.
She smiled. “Then go tell her and see where it takes you. Life’s too short to waste it with regret.”
Tori
Kendall stayed with Mom after her appointment and I went home alone. To cry.
The specialist was kind, but honest, in her assessment of the situation, and Mom’s chances of successful treatment were slim to none. And that wasn’t even taking into account how brutal that treatment would be.
“I’m not doing it,” Mom said after the meeting.
Even Kendall didn’t argue after hearing the facts. It was soul-crushing though. For all my mother’s faults, I always thought there would be more time with her. She was
n’t supposed to get terminally ill before I was thirty. Before I’d married, had kids. It was all so fucking unfair.
Compounding my heartache, Trace had retreated back into himself and pushed me away. I understood it, but that didn’t mean I liked it. This was a time we should’ve been banding together, forging our relationship with the stuff that makes love stick. I was quickly learning it wasn’t about laughing through the good times, though that made life sweeter. It was truly about crying through the heartaches that made you stronger.
He had no idea, but before Mom’s appointment, I’d joined in the search for Ryder. I kept far from Trace, desperate to do my part without being a distraction. I ran into Rachel later and made her promise to let me know if there were any developments.
In the middle of sobbing with my sisters and mother, I’d gotten the text that they’d found Ryder safe and sound. It was bittersweet because Trace hadn’t called to tell me himself.
I puttered around my apartment in a daze, giving up on sleep and fighting the inevitable morose thoughts that plagued me. I was surrounded by nothing but the silence of my own regrets and fears. Maybe I hadn’t done enough to make Trace trust me. Maybe I wasn’t enough for him to love me.
No.
I called bullshit on my own pity party. I’d done all he’d allowed me to, been all I knew to be.
The sun rose and filtered through my blinds in a soft yellow blanket. I was still awake, sitting on the couch, where I’d been most of the night. I managed to dredge up enough energy to call in sick to the school, avoiding Mrs. Tanner’s questions.
I showered, ate a piece of toast, moped.
At noon, I answered the pounding on my door, still in my pajamas.
Kendall eyed me up and down. “You look like shit.”
“Thanks.” I swung open the door and walked away, leaving her to follow.
She met me in the living room, where I plopped back down on the couch. “What’s wrong with you?”
I frowned at her.
“Is this about Mom?”
“Among other things.”
“What things?” She paused a beat. “Your boyfriend? I thought you told me his son was all right.”