by Regan Black
“Hmmm. I think that maybe you meeting Jake tonight, if he’s still up, is okay. Making a big deal out of it doesn’t seem right to me.” She fluttered her hands in front of her, her giveaway that she was unsettled. “I’ve only ever told him that his daddy was a hero, and that he’d given the ultimate sacrifice.”
“You told him I was dead, though?” Rob couldn’t imagine keeping that from a kid.
“Yes, but it’s not something he’s grasped yet. I’ve been preparing myself for a barrage of questions once he starts kindergarten in the fall. Until now he’s been in a smaller, private Montessori school, and with my brother so active in his life, he doesn’t seem to miss a male role model.” She looked at him as she trailed off. “I’m sorry, Rob. I don’t mean he doesn’t need a father in his life.”
“I get it. I’m the interloper.” And he was. He would have been three years ago, too, but less so. Fierce regret welled in his chest, making his breathing shallow. He couldn’t change the past but he sure did mourn it. To be able to get back Jake’s first five years…
“It’s not going to be easy for either of us, Rob.” She fiddled with the wrapping from a straw. “To be honest, I have no idea how Jake is going to react. But there’s a good chance he’ll take this better than you or I.”
“Kids are supposed to be more adaptable than we are, right?” He’d have to find some books, read up on it. Rob was confident that he could escape from just about any man-made contraption, survive anywhere on the planet with the right gear, but had no idea what it took to be a good parent. A father. It wasn’t something he’d experienced. That darn pain under his ribcage, that had nothing to do with the fractured bones, and it wouldn’t let go. He was sad he’d missed so much with Jake. And not a little apprehensive about how he’d measure up to the young boy. Would Jake take one look at him and proclaim he didn’t need a dad?
“They are beyond adaptable. It’s a little scary to realize how accepting they are, how open.” A longer pause this time. He knew her well enough to know she was getting ready to drop a bomb. “I’ll do anything to keep him safe, Rob. I’ve never spanked him. Time-out is the harshest punishment he’s ever needed. Sometimes I take away his toys if he’s being stubborn.”
He heard the unspoken order at the same time he felt the visceral punch to his gut. She knew about his foster families, his biological family’s history of substance abuse, which had often led to his physical abuse as a child. It was the reason he and his brother had been put in the foster system. Her statement was reasonable; he’d be surprised if she felt otherwise. It still smarted more than he’d like, however. His gut tightened into a coil of barbed wire. A defensiveness, no, protectiveness toward Jake. It was how he’d felt in the foster system, when his brother had been threatened. And before their foster family, when their biological father had gone after them in a drug-induced rage. Rob had always fought for his little brother. But what he felt for Jake was much deeper, more primal. It was a depth of emotion he never encountered before. He sighed. He had a lot to learn about being a dad.
“I’m not going to harm my own kid, Trina.” Couldn’t she give him some credit here?
“I don’t want you to think I’m expecting that, Rob. It’s what I never expected once I had a child. First, I had no clue how much I’d love him. No one tells you that—they all warn about how tired you’ll be, how stressful the teenage years are, how some kids turn out bad no matter what you do. But no one told me how very much I’d fall for the little guy, the tiny baby who’s turned into a sweet, full-of-mischief little boy. I’d die for him, Rob. In the military we knew we could be killed with any mission, at the drop of a hat. We accepted it. It was easier to take it as part of the job description before I had Jake. I knew my parents and my brother would be devastated if I died defending our freedoms, but I also knew they’d survive. Jake needs me as much as I need to know he’s safe and sound each night, tucked in his little race car bed.”
“He has a race car bed? I would have loved that!”
“Yes. He loves trains, and there was a locomotive bed frame I thought he’d pick, but when he saw the racing car with all the decals on it he was beyond ecstatic. He’s outgrowing it and needs a twin bed, but I’m afraid to tell him. He’ll be heartbroken.”
“I’m going to pay you child support for the last five years. Whatever my fair share would have been.” He didn’t say it as a form of manipulation to make sure she’d introduce Jake to her, or as a way to assuage his own guilt at not pressing forward and making sure that the baby in Trina’s arms wasn’t his. It hadn’t even occurred to him, as he’d figured with both of them using contraception while on deployment the chance of pregnancy was nil.
How wrong he’d been.
Her sharp intake of breath was his only warning before she launched into a classic Trina tirade.
“No, you are not. There’s nothing to pay for. You weren’t here. Whether it was your choice or not, that’s debatable, but Jake has been cared for.”
“You couldn’t even go after any medical or Social Security benefits for him. We weren’t married—you weren’t my dependent.”
“No, but Jake was my dependent while I was on active duty. And he’s fine. My parents and Nolan and I have all been contributing to a college fund, and I have excellent health insurance. We don’t need your money, Rob.”
Maybe not. But he needed to contribute in all ways possible. “Can’t I at least put something into his college fund, then?”
“Sure, that’s always available. Why don’t you slow down here and focus on meeting him first?”
“He’s not a damned puppy, Trina. I’m not going to take him back if we don’t connect right away.”
“I didn’t mean it that way.”
“We’re both tired. I’m not so sure meeting Jake when we’re both this worn out is such a good idea.”
“It’s the best idea, Rob, because it’s real life.” She laughed as she resettled herself in the bucket seat, legs folded in front of her yoga-style. “I hadn’t slept for two days when I delivered Jake. The labor had kept me up through two nights, and I was so excited that he was on the way I couldn’t rest like they told me to in the hospital. And of course those first couple of weeks are whoppers—he was always hungry, always crying to either eat or be changed.”
“I hate that I wasn’t there for you, Trina.”
“I hate that you weren’t, too. Not so much for me but to watch him as he grew. I have a lot of photos that will fill in the blanks for you. My mother caught some good ones of me nursing him, where I fell asleep with him in my arms. Don’t worry—I was sitting on the floor with my back against the sofa. I used a bumper pillow that went around my waist so that he was always supported. I never dropped him. The picture I’m thinking about is hilarious—it shows his greedy little hands clutching at my boob and bra and my head is back, mouth open, clearly snoring.”
He remained silent. He’d missed so much. When was it too much? When did it cross the line of being an anomaly that other families had experienced—a parent gone for an extended period due to military operations or a medical situation—into irreparable damage?
“It’s okay, Rob. I’m sad for you that you’ve missed the first several years, but look at it this way.” She held up her hand as if she were presenting him with a precious gem or solid gold gift. “There are still thirteen years until he’s eighteen. You haven’t even missed a third of his upbringing. My mother always says that boys need their mothers early on and their fathers more as they turn into teenagers. I’d say that’s right, because while Jake loves his uncle Nolan, he’s a momma’s boy all the way. He calls me his best friend. You know that’s going to change by the time he’s twelve!”
“We’ll see how it goes, then. If at any time you’re uncomfortable or think it’s going too fast for him, you have to tell me. I’m new at this parenting thing.” Normally it pained him to admit he needed
help or was short on any type of training. Because frankly he rarely needed assistance with anything on a day-to-day basis. Being around Trina again had opened up something in his heart, the part that reminded him he was human. And needy. He rubbed his chest, wondering if the ache he felt every time he thought of his son was every going to be appeased.
If it was anything like his desire for Trina, he knew the answer.
* * *
They pulled into her paved driveway and parked in the large area in front of the triple garage. She had one car and used the other two vehicle bays for the gardening and livestock equipment she was collecting.
“Nice place. How long have you been here?”
“Less than a month. I wanted to get Jake settled long before school started. I hate to say it, but that was a mistake—he doesn’t know anyone around here yet, and there aren’t any school functions until the last week in August.”
“You did say he went to a different preschool.” Rob asked the kind of questions that showed he was interested in Jake’s education, but she saw how his eyes reflected exhaustion. She’d bet it wasn’t from the last two days, either. Rob was stressed. The former SEAL who was invincible expected to be slain by an almost-six-year-old.
Once they were out of the Jeep and standing in front of the house, she squeezed his forearm for a brief moment. “It’s okay, Rob. You’re saying hi to a little boy who’s tired from spending all day at a kids’ camp. He’ll be excited to see me, but don’t expect a lot. He hates it when his grandmother has to leave. And this puppy is going to knock his socks off.”
“Got it.”
She dropped her arm and nodded at the front door. “Let’s go. I usually go in through the garage, but without my car and my garage door opener, we’ll go in this way.”
He walked with her up the concrete steps and across the worn wooden porch to the front door. A matching pair of door lights were on, and insects flickered all about, despite the bulbs being yellow. Trina waved her hand in front of her face, shooing away the flying insects. “Damned stinkbugs. They’re the ones that look like primitive tanks. Don’t squish them or it’ll smell to high heaven out here and in the house, too.”
He didn’t reply, and she wondered if he thought she was nuts, buying such a beat-up old house. Once the door opened and the living room light poured out into the night, she noticed that his eyes scoured the room in front of him for any sign of his child.
His son.
The room was empty, and Trina saw the kitchen light down the dim hallway that connected the front and back of the house, a classic hardwood-and-white-painted staircase in the center to the right. “Hey, I’m home!”
An excited shout followed by the certain stamp of little feet on the linoleum kitchen floor made her heart catch midbeat. She looked at Rob. And tried not to laugh at how frightened he appeared.
* * *
“Relax, Rob, it’s a five-year-old boy, not a python.”
“Right.” He stood rooted to the spot, unable to take deep breaths, and it had nothing to do with his cracked ribs. He narrowed his gaze on the light at the end of the hall, waiting, waiting. His breath hitched higher as a short figure ran around the corner and barreled toward them. Pounding feet that sounded light on the hardwood, then Trina’s admonition to “slow down, buddy!” A brief glimpse of cropped hair that was definitely more blond than brown. A flash of eyes as deeply hued as Trina’s. And the same exact shape.
“Mommy!” Jake launched himself at Trina. Trina was ahead of him, on her knees and scooping the small but sturdy boy up into her arms and hugging him to her.
“Hi, sweetie pie. Oh, I’ve missed you!”
“Me, too, Momma. Uncle Nolan said you had ’portent busyness to do and that you’d be back. Guess what? We did art today and I made a pottery for you. It’s going to be painted but it has to cook in the kiln first. A kiln is a, a high-temp’shure oven for ceramics. Hey, what’s this? Oh man, Mommy, did you get a puppy? We have enough to take care of.” God, he never took a breath. Not unlike his mother.
“Here, sit on the floor and I’ll put Renegade in your lap.”
Jake complied with comic swiftness, and his peals of laughter hit Rob in his heart. “Mommy, he’s licking me!”
Jake’s exuberant tone of voice had magical healing powers. As Rob watched him and listened to him, he swore he felt the ache in the center of his chest lessen. Instead of regret, which he knew could probably return, he felt a warm rush of joy filling all of the cracks that had addled his heart.
“That’s how puppies kiss, silly.”
“He needs to know who the boss is.” Jake’s stern voice was a perfect imitation of Trina’s.
Rob looked at Trina’s expression for a clue as to how to respond. He wanted to laugh but didn’t want to be that kind of friend who encouraged bad behavior.
Friend—he wasn’t a friend. He was Jake’s father.
“Hey, sweetie pie, I’ve got a friend for you to meet. Put Renegade down and let him check out the house.” She lifted the boy up as easily as if he was a bag of flour. “Jake, this is Rob.”
“Hey.” Jake looked at him from the safety of his mother’s arms, his little face even with her shoulders.
“How do you do?” God, was that all he could think of to say? This kid probably never heard anyone talk like that, except maybe his grandparents.
Jake held out his small hand, reaching across from his mother’s hug to where Rob stood, feeling like a thistle among orchids. “Nice to meetcha, Mr. Rob.”
Rob accepted his son’s hand in his, and the lightning bolt of warmth that streaked up his arm went straight to his heart. This was his son, his child. He blinked, clearing his eyes, as he’d accept not an iota of blurriness during this first meeting.
“Same here.” He allowed Jake to hang on to his hand as long as the little guy wanted. If it were up to Rob he’d gather the boy to him, hug him, tell him how very, very sorry he was for missing so much. He’d never had hugs like that. Wait—did he want to hug Jake to make up for his own childhood losses, or to simply express this new sense of love and connection he shared with the little boy? As he looked at Jake’s smiling face, he had no doubt. He wanted to shower Jake with unadulterated love and affection.
His chest was itching again.
“Tell you what, why don’t we invite Rob in for a quick drink of water and you can tell me what happened at camp today.”
“Great!” He wriggled out of his mother’s embrace and slid down to the floor, where he immediately took off for the kitchen.
“See? It wasn’t so bad, was it?” Trina’s eyes widened as she took in his expression. Her cool hands wiped tears from his cheeks, and he shook his head. He hadn’t known he was crying like a big baby.
“He’s incredible.”
She grinned, her mother’s pride unbeatable. “Just wait. Come on, let me treat you to a glass of ice water. Unless you want something stronger?”
“No, no—water is just fine.” No blurry tears and no spirits to keep him from experiencing this once-in-a-lifetime reunion. No, sir.
CHAPTER 9
Trina watched her mother’s eyes grow round when she walked into the hallway to see what was taking Trina so long to come into the kitchen. No doubt Carmen Lopez had heard Rob’s deep voice, too.
“Mom, this is Rob Bristol. We work together.”
“Oh, well, hello, Rob.” She gave Trina a hug and kiss. “You okay? Nolan said…” She trailed off, probably not wanting to say too much. Having two children in the military and now both in government service positions had trained her to be careful with what she said. Trina couldn’t love her mother more than she did in this moment. Her mother was faced with Trina bringing home a strange man and yet didn’t play Twenty Questions with her. Carmen Lopez had trusted her children to make their own decisions since Trina was a girl. It was something Trina striv
ed to instill in Jake—to know that his mom had faith in his judgment. Now it would be both her and Rob working together on this, and all facets of parenting.
Instead of the loss of control she thought she’d feel, she enjoyed a sense of calm and…relief. Rob would be a great dad and it was going to be a pleasure to coparent with him.
“It’s okay, Mom. Yes, I had to work an extra job, but it’s all okay now.”
Carmen looked at her daughter and nodded, then turned her attention to Rob.
“Are either of you hungry?”
“No, ma’am. I’m good.”
“I’m just getting Rob a glass of water. We’re dehydrated a bit. We’ve been out in the sun all day.” All three of them walked into the kitchen, and Trina motioned for Rob and her mother to sit with Jake at the battered farm table that was left by the previous owner. Even though she planned to seriously rehab the place with modern conveniences, she appreciated the more rustic touches, too. Trina knew the historical roots of all she did, including purchasing a dilapidated farmhouse that sat on three of the farm’s original two hundred acres. It had been in the same family for generations, since the Revolutionary War era, until the last had decided to let go of the farm. Roots were important to her; it was why she’d left the Navy, so that Jake would grow up close to his extended family, especially his grandparents.
“Mom, we made plants in camp today.” Jake spoke with crystal-clear certainty, his hair mussed from her hug and his cheeks rosy from the sun.
“You mean you potted plants?”
“Yes! We did cactuses and ivy.”
“Cacti and ivy. Did you put your sunscreen on?” She cracked open an ice tray and filled three glasses to the brim with cubes. Trina didn’t have to look to know Jake was rolling his eyes. So she was conscientious about grammar and the risk of skin cancer. Jake needed to see this side of parenting, too. The more practical, day-to-day parts that could wear her down, make her forget to relax and enjoy Jake. He’d only be five once.