The Fireman's Son

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  In the morning, their entire world was going to change once again.

  * * *

  REESE HAD ONE thing on his mind. Preparing himself to fight the battle of his life. For the war against the damage that had been done to his boy.

  He’d spoken to the counselor. He’d spent the afternoon on the internet, reading forums as well as scholarly articles regarding troubled boys under age ten.

  “Okay, before we go, we need to get a few things straight between you two.”

  Sara’s words pulled him up short and gave him the first burst of powerful emotion he’d had since he’d stepped into that office.

  He stared at his son’s therapist. He’d thought he’d made it very clear that this meeting was to be only about Elliott.

  “This is strictly in regard to your son,” Sara said, her tone firm.

  Reese settled back. He liked the woman. Found her competent and comfortable to talk to.

  “First, Reese, the entire time you’ve been here you haven’t once acknowledged Faye.”

  Of course he hadn’t. One thing at a time. Right now that was Elliott. He and Faye...they were going to have to wait.

  “How do you think Elliott is going to react if you two aren’t able to treat each other well? He’s already witnessed that kind of relationship between his mother and Frank. It’s the last thing he needs to see between the two of you.”

  Point taken. He looked at Faye. Felt a tightness in his throat. Thought of the boy.

  “You and I are going to be fine, aren’t we?” he asked. “We have a good working relationship. No reason we can’t carry that over to caring for Elliott, is there?”

  “I see no reason why not.” Faye didn’t sound like herself. But then, he imagined, neither did he.

  He looked back at Sara. “Faye and I respect each other,” he told her. “I suspect that that was a major missing key regarding her previous relationship.”

  The therapist looked at Faye. “You’re okay?”

  Throwing up her hands, Faye glanced at him. He tried, with a glance, to tell her everything would be fine. She turned back to Sara. “I mean... I’m...this is all a lot to take in. But as you already know, today’s outcome was...a godsend to me. Reese and I—” her gaze came his way again “—we’ll be fine. It’s just...we need some time to feel our way, is all. And I don’t think we can do that until Elliott is in the mix and we can determine what he’s going to need from us. Individually and together.”

  Right. He nodded in agreement.

  “It’s kind of like being new parents,” she continued. “We have no real idea what we’re getting into. But we’re determined to be there for Elliott, we’re equally dedicated to putting him first.”

  Exactly. She put into words just what he’d needed to hear.

  Probably because she’d been at this a whole lot longer than he had.

  “Good.” Sara stood.

  With Faye next to him, he was up and holding out his hand to Elliott’s counselor, ready to be on his way, before it hit him.

  This was it.

  No more talking about it. No more just considering. He’d heard. He’d understood.

  He’d signed on.

  Literally.

  By morning, he was going to be a father.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  REESE WAS GOING to need some things. Walking through his house later that night, he tried to see it through the eyes of an eight-year-old boy. The place was okay. Nice. His salary had allowed him to buy a bungalow on the beach.

  It wasn’t big but it had three bedrooms. Plenty for one guy living alone. And it had private beach access.

  He used the second bedroom as his computer room. He’d never gotten around to furnishing the third bedroom. He’d used it to store boxes when he first moved in. He’d slowly emptied them one by one through the ensuing months. When he’d finished with the last box, he’d been done with the room.

  Staring at it just before ten o’clock that night, he was filled with a restlessness he didn’t like. One that drove him to get rid of it.

  He picked up the phone.

  She’d already invented the wheel. It served no purpose to do it twice.

  She picked up on the second ring. “Reese?”

  “You still at work?”

  “Just leaving.”

  Good. He wasn’t ready to have his crew know yet. “We didn’t talk about work specifically today,” he said. “It’s my wish that for now we remain as we are at work. No one there needs to know, yet, that I have a son. Or that he’s also your son.”

  “You can’t ask an eight-year-old boy not to tell people who his father is, Reese. What happens when people see you together?”

  Right. He’d been too busy thinking about beds. And the California Department of Public Health, the purveyors of birth certificates.

  “I’ll hold a meeting in the morning. Let everyone know I have a son. Just in case something comes up. But I’m not going to say who he is. Or even that he lives here. Not unless I have to.”

  “I’m meeting with Sara in the morning.”

  “I know.” He didn’t want her at the station when he held this particular meeting. Didn’t want everyone looking at the two of them and getting ideas. “When we’re at work, and Elliott’s needs aren’t an issue, we will continue there just as we have been. We don’t seek each other out. We do our jobs.”

  “Okay.”

  She didn’t sound happy about that.

  He’d like her to be happy but he couldn’t change things. He needed distance. And she needed the job.

  No good looking at other things he couldn’t change. No purpose to be served there.

  “California Department of Public Health has the birth certificate,” he said next. Since he had her on the phone, he might as well get it all taken care of at once. “Removing a parental notation and adding another takes a superior court order. I’ve contacted an attorney and he is making a motion on our behalf. We’ll both have to be present, show the lab results and sign some kind of acknowledgment.”

  “Does Frank have to be there, too?”

  “Absolutely not.” Because they had the lab results. “He’ll be notified.” He wanted to tell her not to worry, that she never had to set eyes on the bastard again.

  But it wasn’t his place. He’d given himself a place and that’s where he had to remain.

  He would man the front line. Apply himself one hundred percent where he could do the most good.

  “Thank you.”

  It occurred to him then that he might have just stepped in it. “I should have checked with you before contacting the attorney.”

  “In the future, it will be required. But this time...no, Reese, I’m glad you took care of it. The sooner, the better. Seriously. I...it was nice. Makes me feel good that someone...you...did that for me.”

  Good. Fine. Moving on.

  “As I’ve said, I have no intention of requiring any kind of custody...or even visiting arrangements, in a live-in sense. His home is with you.”

  “What if he wants to spend the weekend with his father? Elliott’s a boy, getting older by the second. He’s going to want guy time.”

  “I know. And that’s why I called. I have no intention of requesting or implementing my own visitation rights. But if the boy wants to stay over here sometimes, I’m going to need a place for him.”

  There. Putting it out there hadn’t been as hard as he’d expected. He wasn’t building a home. Just setting up a room for Elliott to stay in sometimes.

  “That’s why you called?”

  “Yes.”

  “Are you asking for help?”

  “I just figured...you know him. You know what he likes. He needs consistency. Security. I have no idea how to imple
ment that in terms of him staying over.”

  “I’m happy to come take a look and see what we can do, if you’d like.”

  Yeah, he’d like that. A lot. Because it would be good for Elliott.

  “Tomorrow?” It was her day off. “Assuming things go well in the morning with your meeting with Sara, and Elliott spends his normal day at the Stand.”

  “Are you going to move the staff meeting tomorrow morning so you can be at the Stand when we tell him?”

  Before they’d left the therapist’s office earlier that evening, Sara had said that it might be a good idea if Reese was around the next morning. Just in case Elliott asked for him.

  But out of sight, in case he didn’t.

  “Of course,” Reese said now. “I’ll call the meeting for seven. You’ll get the message. You just don’t need to show up.”

  “I’m glad. That you’ll be there. At the Stand when we tell him.”

  A flood of warmth hit him. Inside. All over.

  For a second, he reveled in it.

  Then he got real.

  “I’ll see you in the morning,” he said. And hung up before she could blindside him again.

  * * *

  ALL NIGHT LONG, in between restless bouts of sleep, Faye played out scenarios in her mind. How Sara would look when she talked to Elliott. The expression on her face. Where the woman would be sitting. Where Faye would sit. She played it out with Elliott close to her. And far away. She had to be prepared for any and every eventuality. The meeting was critical.

  She would not let her son down again.

  And she wouldn’t think about Reese, either. Her heart was so confused where he was concerned.

  She loved him. She’d always loved him. She’d given him a part of her heart and it had been for keeps. That wasn’t up for debate.

  Never had been.

  But that didn’t mean she still had to be in love with him. Or that she could, or would ever want to, have a relationship with him in any sense other than co-parenting.

  She could dream about him that way. Apparently she was going to spend the rest of her life looking at him and getting turned on—if the past weeks were anything to go by.

  But that was where she stopped.

  Frank had made sure of that.

  When thoughts of her ex-husband intruded, she turned over in bed and started again, picturing Sara, Elliott, words, differing reactions.

  Her son...excited. Baffled. Angry and then excited. Happy. Nonchalant. She went through them all.

  And still, when she arrived with him at the Stand the next morning and Sara met them as they were coming in, nothing happened in any way as she’d imagined it would.

  Just in case the excited/happy scenario played out—which was the reaction she hoped for, given the father Elliott was trading in for the one he was getting—she’d had him wear his favorite blue shorts and the blue shirt with the pocket on the front so he’d be ready for pictures.

  For herself, she’d chosen a blue polo-shirt dress that hung a few inches above her knees. And the sandals that matched. So she’d look good next to him and Reese in those pictures she was hoping to get. Her hair was down. Her makeup to her satisfaction. No mascara or eyeliner, just in case of tears.

  Her phone was set to flash. The soft lighting in Sara’s office was comforting but, she imagined, not that great for pictures.

  But Sara walked them outside.

  Glancing around as they crossed a grassy lawn with bungalows set along a winding, flower-graced sidewalk, Faye searched for Reese. Sara had said he should be close by but out of sight. How could that possibly happen now?

  They ended up in the Garden of Renewal. Beautifully landscaped with a waterfall, trees, shade, benches and gorgeous colorful blooms everywhere, the garden had been designed by the husband of the Stand’s resident nurse. The couple lived on-site with their children and his mentally challenged brother and sister-in-law, as well as their child. Faye had met them all—and wished she could know them better.

  “Are we on a nature hunt?” Elliott was asking as they entered the garden. “Adam says he went on a nature hunt with you and it was fun.”

  Faye once again looked around for Reese. They had the garden to themselves. Faye figured there was no mistake about that.

  “We’re not on a nature hunt” was all Sara said. “We’re here to talk.” Taking Elliott’s hand, she led him to a bench. She sat on one end, indicated that Faye should take the other end and patted the middle for Elliott.

  The boy stood in front of them. “Am I in trouble?”

  “Nope. And if you’d rather not sit, that’s fine. Your Mom and I just have something to tell you.”

  “It’s bad, isn’t it?” He looked at Faye. “You’re not going to die, are you?”

  “No!” She wanted to reach for him, pull him down next to her. But taking her cue from Sara, she didn’t. Things weren’t going as she’d imagined them. They weren’t in Sara’s office. She couldn’t see the expression on the other’s woman’s face. Elliott wouldn’t sit where he was told. He had thoughts about her dying? He saw that as a bad thing?

  And there was no Reese.

  “It’s not bad, either,” Sara said, her tone soft, yet filled with authority. “At least, I hope you don’t think so. But it’s big. And, I think, if you want, it will be a lot of fun, too.”

  “Do I gotta move?”

  “Nope.”

  “Do I gotta quit going to school here?”

  “Nope.”

  Elliott shrugged. Kicked at the dirt with the toe of his tennis shoe. “So what?”

  “You remember when we talked about your dad?”

  The boy’s face fell. He didn’t say a word.

  “Well, I kind of got the feeling that you felt like you and he are different. A lot different.”

  Elliott shrugged.

  “So it made me think about some things your mom had told me that you didn’t know about. Things kids your age don’t really care about, but things grown-ups do care about.”

  Elliott glanced at Faye then, his face twisted. Half-filled with accusation. Like whatever was coming was her fault. Again. Like she was constantly messing up his life.

  It was an expression reminiscent of Frank.

  But in his eyes she saw a pleading look. Like he wanted her to get him out of whatever was to come.

  “I talked to your mom and we did some checking...”

  Her stomach tripped. Every muscle inside her tensed. Growing tighter. Squeezing against her chest.

  “The man your mom thought was your dad, Frank Walker, he didn’t just hurt her, he lied to her...”

  “Yeah. I know.” Elliott was not impressed, so far.

  “He lied to her about being your dad.”

  The tennis shoe in the dirt quit moving. If it was possible for leaves on trees and bees on flowers to freeze in place, Faye was pretty certain they just had.

  She didn’t think Elliott knew how babies were made. He hadn’t yet asked about sex. She hadn’t told him.

  She’d been living on borrowed time.

  She and Sara had determined that it was best to help Elliott deal with his troubles before he learned about sex or associated Frank’s twisted abuse with healthy sex.

  “Did he tell you he lied?” Elliott asked Sara. “Did you talk to him?” The boy looked around.

  “He told your mom.”

  He looked at Faye, clearly not having any of it. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “There are things a person has to do by law, Elliott,” Sara said, before Faye had a chance to reply. “Things to keep grown-ups from breaking the law and hurting kids. Your mom had to follow the law before she could tell you.”

  He looked from Sara to her. Seemed to be assessing.
With no sign of angst.

  Good. That had been part of her best-case scenario.

  “Do you know who my dad is?”

  The question came. Sara knew her stuff.

  Biting her lower lip, trying desperately to keep the tears from her eyes, Faye heard Sara say, “Yes, we do. That’s what we came here to tell you. That’s the big news.”

  “Who is he?”

  “Reese Bristow.”

  Faye held her breath.

  Elliott’s nose scrunched up. He shook his head. “I don’t know who that is.”

  “Chief Bristow,” Sara clarified.

  Mouth hanging open, Elliott stared at them. His gaze widened.

  Faye could feel his agitation. Saw his arms start to swing. His feet shuffled. She was ready to take him in her arms, to hold him while he...she didn’t know what...

  She was shocked when he got the meanest look in his eye she’d ever seen from him.

  “You lie!” He said it so intensely his voice broke. “You lie! You lie! You lie!” With that he turned and ran from them into the woods, repeating the accusation over and over again.

  Faye jumped up to follow him, but Sara held her back.

  “Let him go. He’s safe here. There are walls surrounding the entire property, remember? Security and every other staff member are on alert. And Reese is standing just on the other side of those trees.”

  Faye started to cry. Let the counselor sit her back down and rub her shoulder as she sobbed.

  It was too much.

  She’d been alone for so long. Knew her job. Her purpose. She’d had things manageable.

  And now it was all changing.

  Her entire life was flying out of control and she didn’t seem to be in charge of anything.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  REESE HAD PACED in worse places. With his phone in his hand, ready for a call or a text letting him know whether he was needed, Reese tried not to get caught up in the drama of the moment.

  Kids found birth parents. Birth parents found kids. This wasn’t rocket science. Or even a miracle. It was life.

  He thought about his own father. How he’d have felt if the old man had shown up when he was a kid. A simple “I’m sorry” would have probably done it for the young Reese.