Ben looked up from his scrambled eggs. His eyes were wary. “What for?”
“Thought you might get a kick out of a tour of the place.” He sent a quick smile in Karin’s direction, but didn’t let his gaze linger. She looked way too damn pretty in a flannel shirt with her hair escaping every which way from the messy bun she’d put it in. “I already cleared it with your mom.”
Karin confirmed that. “Fine with me if you want to go.”
“Could be fun.” Liam kept his tone offhand. “Check out a diesel engine, maybe go for a ride in a semitruck.”
Those serious brown eyes flashed with interest, but Ben played it cool. “Okay, I’ll go.”
“Good. We’ll leave in an hour or so, maybe grab a burger on the way back?”
“Sure. I’ll be ready.”
Coco had somehow managed to restrain herself till then. But she was not the kind of girl to let a good time pass her by. “’Scuse me, Liam? I like trucks. Can I please go with you guys?”
“Not today, honey.” Karin eased in gracefully with her interference play. “I really need your help with the Christmas cookies.”
“But what about Ben? He always helps, too. We should all help because helping is good.”
“I kind of want to see that engine,” Ben ruefully confessed.
Karin suggested, “I’m also going to need help next weekend with the fudge and divinity and candy cane bark.”
Liam trotted out his perfect solution. “How ’bout this? Ben and I will go this week. Coco, I’ll take you with me next week. You can each see the trucks and help your mom with the candy and cookies, too.”
“All right!” Coco agreed, beaming. “I like making cookies and I like trucks, too!”
The baby monitor on the counter came to life with a questioning cry. The table quieted. They all knew the drill by then—it was always possible that RG would fuss for a minute and then go back to sleep.
Not this time, though. His cries grew more insistent.
Liam glanced at Karin, who was already looking at him. “Please do,” she said with a grin and a wave of her hand.
He pushed back his chair and headed for the baby’s room.
* * *
The rain had let up by the time Liam and Ben got on the road to Bravo Trucking. It was a little awkward, with just the two of them. They hadn’t spent much time alone together up till then and Ben’s outburst the day before kind of hung in the cab between them.
Liam cued up a playlist on low, just to have a little noise in the background. He asked about soccer. Ben’s team, the Valentine Bay Velociraptors, had just wrapped up their fall season. The boy answered Liam’s questions as briefly as possible. The subject of soccer died a quick death.
Next, Liam tried science. Ben said he was working on a special project, studying the temperate rain forest of the Pacific Northwest, which stretched from California to British Columbia and was the largest temperate rain forest on the planet. The science conversation fared better than sports, lasting a good ten minutes.
After that, Liam let the playlist make the noise for a while. It wasn’t too bad.
Ben really perked up when they got to Bravo Trucking. He happily trotted along beside Liam, who took him through the corporate office, the fuel island and the shop. Even on a Sunday, Liam had a couple of things he needed to deal with in his office, but the few truckers hanging around the driver’s lounge were happy to keep Ben busy, telling him stories of the road, answering his every question.
Liam took him out to get an up close and personal look at that diesel engine as promised, and to get a quick rundown on the different types of trailers—from dry vans, to refrigerated trailers, to flatbeds, step deck trailers and lowboy trailers used to haul freight. And for the big finish, Liam took him for a ride in a Kenworth W900B, the kind he used to drive when he first started out hauling timber for Valentine Logging.
It was way past noon when they headed for home. Ben had more questions about the trucking business and the conversation flowed naturally, Liam thought. Halfway there, he pulled the pickup in at a little roadside diner. It was nothing fancy, just burgers, fries and milkshakes. There was a small, fake Christmas tree by the door strung with tinsel garland, lights and shiny balls. The sound system played Christmas tunes.
They got a booth in the back corner and a waitress brought their food. Liam was trying to come up with a good way to maybe get Ben talking about the baby Jesus incident the day before. But he had nothing, really. Every time he came up with a possible opener, he cringed before he could get the words out.
So what, exactly, was on your mind yesterday when you ran for your room?
Maybe not.
Or Do you resent having me around, Ben? Can we talk about that?
Yeah. No. Maybe something less direct: How’s it working out for you, having a new baby brother in the house?
Ugh. Somehow every conversation starter he considered sounded like lame psychobabble in his head. He had no clue where to begin.
And Ben was suddenly way too quiet again. They stuffed fries in their mouths and sucked down their milkshakes, avoiding eye contact as much as possible.
Then Ben surprised him.
The kid ate a giant bite of his burger and stared directly across the booth at Liam as he chewed and swallowed. “I kind of want to ask you something,” he said when his mouth was finally empty. “It’s got nothing to do with trucks.”
Liam resisted a sudden urge to squirm in his seat. “Go for it.”
Ben dropped his half-eaten burger to his plate and slurped up more milkshake, setting the tall plastic glass down with a definite clunk. “Well, Liam. I mean, you’re always so nice. It makes me nervous. What’s up with you?”
Chapter Eight
Liam had to hand it to the kid. “Way to go, Ben. We might end up having a real conversation, after all.” Ben frowned at him. Liam ate a french fry. “Define ‘nice.’”
“Hmm.” Ben took a moment for another giant bite of his burger. Then he said, “You’re just too great about everything. You never get mad and so far, you’re always there when my mom needs you. You think Riley is the best thing ever, even when he’s pooping his diaper and screaming. And you never seem to get annoyed at Coco—I mean, I love my sister but sometimes when she won’t stop talking it’s like...” He put his hands to either side of his head and made an exploding sound. “And what about you and Grandpa?”
“I like your grandpa.”
“Exactly. You and Grandpa are like best friends all of a sudden. You get along with everybody. It’s like you actually believe there’s a Santa Claus—big news, Liam. There isn’t. Santa is physically impossible and as an adult, you should know that.”
“Ben.”
“What?”
“I do know there’s no Santa Claus. I’ve known for years and years.”
“I didn’t say that I think you believe in Santa Claus, I said you act like you do.”
“Point taken. I just felt the need to clarify.”
“Liam. Are you messing with me?”
He busted to it. “Yeah. Maybe a little.”
“I thought so. And it’s okay—but that reminds me. Coco still believes in Santa, so you better not ruin it for her.”
“Coco will never hear the truth about Santa from me. I promise you that.”
Ben pointed a french fry at him. “Make sure you keep that promise.”
“I will—what else makes you nervous about me?”
Ben devoured that fry and two more. “You’re always around.”
“You sound kind of pissed about that.”
“Not pissed, not exactly.”
“Then what?” Liam asked. Ben just looked at him, frowning. Liam let the wordless moment stretch out as Bing Crosby warbled “Do You Hear What I Hear?” from the speaker in the corner above their booth.
<
br /> Ben shook his head. “I don’t know. But I’m not pissed at you, okay?”
“Got it. So, you say I’m always around...”
“Because you are.”
Liam shrugged and reminded him, “Your grandpa is always around.”
Ben gave him that look, the one that said, grown-ups are so dense. “Well, yeah. Grandpa lives with us.”
“And I live next door. Your brother is my child. It’s a good thing, the right thing, for me to be around a lot. Plus, I like being around a lot.”
Ben stared at him long and hard. “Do you really?”
“Yeah. I do. Really.”
“Well, my dad was hardly ever around.” Ben said that too softly, his gaze shifting downward. He said to his plate, “I hardly even knew him. And I don’t think he liked me very much.”
Pay dirt.
And now Liam was scared to death he would blow it. But he’d signed on for this, so he waded in anyway. “I would bet Bravo Trucking that your dad did love you, Ben.”
Ben shot him a sharp glance, then went back to examining the puddle of ketchup on his plate. “You’re just saying that because that’s what you’re supposed to say about a kid’s dad.”
“Uh-uh. You’re the kind of kid any dad would be proud of. You’re smart and you put other people first, which believe me, I didn’t when I was your age. You look after your sister and your mom and your grandpa and RG, too. I’ve only known you for six weeks and I love you already.”
Ben snort-laughed. “Right.” But at least he looked up and met Liam’s eyes.
“It’s true, Ben. I really do love you. A lot.” Liam realized how much he meant those words as he said them. He also felt so damn sorry for Bud Killigan. For Bud, it was too late to show his own son anything ever again—and Ben was watching him across the table, brown eyes steady.
Liam forged ahead. “It’s also true that I didn’t know your dad, but I do know that sometimes grown-ups can get so wrapped up in their own problems that they don’t realize they’re not giving the right signals to the ones they love.”
“Signals?”
“Yeah. I mean, sometimes people fail to show how much they love the ones who matter to them, they get lost in the things that are bothering them. When that happens, they can miss their chance to show their love to the ones who mean the most to them. I would bet that’s what happened with your dad.”
Ben got that look. Like he was deconstructing his latest science project. “You mean that my dad’s dead and how he really felt is not provable, so why not just tell myself he loved me?”
“I meant what I said, Ben. Your father loved you. Maybe he didn’t do the best job of showing it, but that doesn’t mean the love wasn’t there.”
“But it’s not provable.” Ben tapped a fist on the table for emphasis.
“So what? It’s a hell of a lot more likely that he did than he didn’t—and come on, what did I just say? Who doesn’t love you? Everybody I know loves you.”
Ben’s mouth twitched, as though he was trying not to grin. “You’re exaggerating.”
“Nope. Truth. That’s all you’ll ever hear from me.”
Ben grabbed his milkshake and sucked down the rest of it in silence—until the end, the part kids always loved most. Noisily, he sucked air. “I’m done.” He set down the red plastic glass. “Thanks for the lunch.”
“You’re welcome.”
“We should probably get back on the road.”
Liam debated whether he should try to keep the man-to-man moment going. But he didn’t want to mess with whatever progress he’d made.
He grabbed the check. “All right then. Let’s go.”
* * *
Things were quiet in the pickup as they headed home. Liam didn’t fill the silence with music this time. A little quiet never hurt. And maybe Ben would have more to say.
They were five miles from Sweetheart Cove, when Ben asked, “So you’re staying, then? You’re not going away?”
“I’m staying.” His own voice sounded so sure and he wondered, was he promising more than he could deliver?
No. However it worked out with him and Karin, he meant to be there—and not only for RG. “There’s nowhere else I would rather be than with you and your mom and RG and Coco.”
“And Grandpa.” Ben said it more as a reminder than a question.
“And with your grandpa, too.”
* * *
Karin rang Liam’s doorbell at nine that night.
He opened the door and then just stood there, grinning at her. “God, you’re good-lookin’.” She wore yoga pants and a giant Welcome to Valentine Bay sweatshirt, her hair in a bun, same as that morning, untamed curls escaping every which way. “No other woman could ever compare.”
She put one foot behind her and executed an actual curtsy. “And as you can see, I got dressed up real fancy.”
“I’ve always been a big fan of the natural look.”
“Oh, I’ll just bet you have.” She held up her phone. “No telling how long I’ll be here. Riley was kind of fussy today.”
“You’d better get in here, then.” He took her arm, pulled her inside with him, shut the door and reeled her in close. She melted against him. For several perfect minutes, there was just her mouth and his mouth, the feel of her body pressing close to his, the glide of her eager hands up over his chest and around his neck.
Too soon, she broke away and grabbed his hand. “Come on. We need to talk.” And she led him into the main room, turned on the fire, pushed him down on the sofa and sat on his lap.
There was more kissing. On his lap like that, she was rubbing him right where it mattered most. He considered all the things that would be okay for him to do to her without her doctor’s approval. There were a lot, now that he thought about it, and all of them tempted him.
But then she pulled away again and slid off his lap to sit next to him. She leaned her head on his shoulder. “So. How’d it go today with Ben?”
“Great. He got a tour of the yard, hung out in the driver’s lounge. We went for a ride in one of the trucks. I think he had a good time.”
“You, um, get a chance to talk to him?”
He balked. Suddenly it seemed wrong to tell her what her son had said over burgers and fries. “We talked, yeah.”
“And?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, stalling. “It turned out to be kind of a man-to-man thing.”
“That’s good, right?”
“What I’m trying to say is I’m not sure I should betray his confidence, you know?”
She got that look women get, a little angry, a lot superior. “One, he’s nine years old. Two, I am his mother. Three, that I am his mother means I need to know what’s bothering him. And four, did he ask you not to tell me what he said to you?”
“No, he didn’t. It’s just...” He sought the right words. They didn’t come, so he settled on, “Karin, some things a kid doesn’t want to tell his mother.”
“He’s nine,” she insisted, those beautiful eyes pleading now. “Just tell me this much. Did he mention his dad?”
Her begging eyes did him in. Screw the bro code. He couldn’t keep stonewalling her. “Yeah. Ben said he didn’t think his dad liked him.”
“That’s not true.” Frantic color flooded her cheeks.
“Hey.” He put up both hands in complete surrender. “I believe you. We argued over it. I tried to get him to see that his dad could love him and not be any good at showing it.”
Her pretty mouth trembled. “Do you think you convinced him?”
“Not a clue. But he didn’t seem upset, honestly. Just kind of puzzled at the weirdness of adults.”
“Yeah. He’s like that. My little professor...” Her eyes were fond and dreamy—but then she glanced at Liam and demanded, “What else did he say?”
; “He wanted to know if I was going to stick around. I told him that I wasn’t going anywhere.”
She gave him a slow nod, but her eyes spoke of doubts. “It’s better not to make him that kind of a promise.”
He disagreed. “It’s a promise I intend to keep.”
“Liam. You never know how things will turn out. People think they want one thing and then, as time goes by, they realize they want something else altogether.”
“I know what I want. And I told Ben the truth. I live here and I’m not leaving.”
She bit the corner of her lip. “Look. I think you just need to know something. When I married Bud, I was pregnant with Ben.” She stared at him, apprehensive, as if she expected him to be surprised.
He wasn’t. Not in the least. “I kind of figured as much. People do that, you know?”
She scoffed. “Get pregnant accidentally or get married because they’re pregnant?”
“Both.”
“Well, we were in love, Bud and me.”
“Yeah. You told me that last night.”
“Bud swore he was all in—with me, with the baby. He made a lot of promises. I was young and hopeful and crazy about him. I just knew we were going to be happy together forever and ever. I said yes. We got married...” Her voice faded off. She stared into the middle distance, her eyes far away.
And then she said, “It was mostly downhill from there. Before Ben was even born, Bud had turned angry. Distant. I think he came to realize that what he really loved was life on a boat. He wanted his freedom. I just wanted it to work with us. I wanted it so much.
“For a while after Ben was born, Bud seemed...better, I guess. He even said that he wanted another baby. Looking back, I think he was trying to get behind being a husband and a dad. At the time, I was just ecstatic. I thought we were going to be all right. So we had Coco. And things were okay, for a while. But it didn’t last. Finally, on that final night he was home before he died, we had a big fight. He said he wanted a divorce and I said that was just fine with me. I meant it, too. I knew we were done, that what I’d believed was lasting love just...wasn’t. We never should have gotten married in the first place. A week later, the salmon troller he was on sank in the Bering Sea.”
The Right Reason to Marry Page 11