The Fireman's Son

by Tara Taylor Quinn

  He didn’t want to read her mind. She shouldn’t assume he knew these things.

  Fine.

  He was at work. She couldn’t have conversations like this with him there. His rules, not hers. So after she’d finished housework, she called him. Asked if she could see him over lunch, expecting to have to convince him that the meeting was necessary.

  Instead, he agreed immediately. Then suggested that it be someplace they wouldn’t be overheard.

  Not wanting to be trapped at her house or his, afraid of the intimacy, she suggested the beach.

  He told her he knew of a food truck, said there were benches nearby where they could sit and eat. They’d be outside, could see the ocean.

  When they’d arrived, all of the benches had been taken and somehow they ended up on the blanket she kept in the trunk of her car. She sat cross-legged with her blue sundress stretched over her knees, overlooking the ocean and eating the best grilled cheese sandwich she’d ever had.

  A picnic. With a man she loved but was no longer close to. Awkward, to say the least. She’d thought the food would stick in her throat but it slid right down.

  Until he looked at her with a gaze that seemed to take in far more than she was sharing.

  “I’ve been thinking about you.” His words could have been a come-on but the way he said them, as though assessing and finding something wrong, didn’t sound like one.

  But if he had something to get off his mind...

  She waited. He didn’t say anything more.

  With half a sandwich sitting on the paper on her lap, she told him, “I had a meeting with Sara this morning.”

  He nodded. Seemed to be enjoying his sandwich.

  “You aren’t too warm here, in the sun?” In jeans and a polo shirt, he sure could be. Reese had always been a hot-blooded guy.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Elliott’s not improving, Reese. If anything he’s showing signs of regressing.”

  He took another bite of his sandwich. Shrugged. “Sara said there’d be a period of adjustment. Any change...even good change...is stressful on kids.”

  He’d listened. She’d give him that.

  “Here’s the thing... I don’t want to pry...but, you know earlier, when I said we need to keep in touch about him...”

  “I’m to call you if he asks to see me, make arrangements through you...”

  “We need to be in touch regarding everything where he’s concerned. At least at first.”

  “I have no problem with that.”

  “So... I have to ask...what do you two talk about? What’s going on with him?”

  “I figured you’d know that. I ask questions, he gives one-word answers and that’s that.”

  Her heart fell a bit.

  She couldn’t help but remember the last time she and Reese had been on a picnic together. They really had been kids, back then. So unaware of the dangers around them. Or uncaring of them. They’d ended up naked that day.

  Why she chose that moment to remember, she had no idea. But seeing him sitting there, his lips wrapping around toasted bread, she remembered the moist feel of them on nipples warmed by the sun.

  “I’d hoped he wasn’t saying anything to me or Sara because he was telling you,” she finally said.

  He shook his head. “We knew there’d be a period of adjustment,” he said again.

  “But he calls you almost every day. And has made it clear that he doesn’t want me to overhear what he’s saying. Maybe he’s telling you something that would mean something more to Sara or me than it does to you.”

  Another shake of the head was her only response.

  “Reese, you told me to ask if I wanted something.”

  This time he nodded. Either his sandwich was phenomenal or the man was starving. It used to be that the first couple of bites would take his edge off.

  “So, I’m asking. What does Elliott talk to you about?”

  “You.”

  Oh. No. Of course, she’d expected that her son might not want to stay with her if he had another choice.

  But he’d come to her room the night he’d found out about Reese. He’d sought his comfort and security from her.

  “What about me?”

  When he dropped the last quarter of his sandwich and looked at her, Faye lost a bit of breath.

  “He and I have an agreement,” he said. “He has to call to report to me every day in terms of his treatment of you. If he’s angry with you, he’s to tell me. And then tell me how he handled the anger. If I find his behavior inappropriate, we discuss other choices. Whatever else happens with him, whatever you decide for his future, my son will not disrespect his mother.”

  She blinked a couple of times. She was not going to cry.

  “What does he get in return?” she asked.

  “Nothing. Other than learning to be a good man.”

  “But you said you had an agreement...” Like a tour of a fire truck in exchange for a phone call.

  “I told him what I expected, and he agreed.”

  There he was with that expectation thing again. He was on the other side of it this time, but it was still there. The need to have expectations delineated.

  She’d never known it had been an issue in their past, but maybe it had been.

  “How’s he been telling you he’s doing?”

  “Mostly fine. There were a couple of moments, but I’m sure you know about them already.”

  She shook her head. “His treatment of me is the only thing that’s improved over the past couple of weeks. He’s been great.” Now she knew why.

  “He said he raised his voice to you two nights ago. When you told him it was time for bed.”

  “He did. Because I was in the kitchen, doing dishes. I’d called out to him to get in his pajamas and get his teeth brushed. He’d called back, asking if he had to. I said yes. He said okay.”

  “Must have been his tone of voice then.”

  She shook her head. “Believe me, it was nothing like the one he uses to cut me to the quick.”

  “Another time was on Monday when he got on you for being late to pick him up.”

  “He just asked me where I’d been...”

  “He said he complained at you.”

  “Nothing like he used to,” she told him. “He said he’d been waiting but his tone was completely different than it used to be. And he didn’t have the surly look on his face. I haven’t seen that in a while.”

  Not since before her son had climbed into bed with her.

  “I don’t kid myself, Reese. I know he has issues where I’m concerned. Sara knows it, too. We’re working through his anger with me. I’m also fully aware that there might be a time when he needs to be away from me for a while. He might need space. But I’m telling you, these past two weeks have been vastly different. Now I know why.”

  “Maybe.”

  “But the thing that’s weird is that he thinks he’s still being bad. He’s reporting things to you that aren’t bad at all.”

  “Why would he do that?”

  She wished she knew. Feeling slightly panicky as she thought of her eight-year-old son’s skewed world, she said, “Maybe to test you. To see how you react when he’s acting out. To see if you’ll still be around.”

  But somehow, she didn’t think so.

  “Seems like if that was the case, he’d do something worse than complain about you being late,” Reese said.

  “Maybe he doesn’t want you to think there’s no reason for the phone calls anymore. He wants to keep having them so he’s making a reason.”

  “He can call me anytime he wants. He doesn’t need a reason.”

  “He’s eight, Reese. He’s had a lot thrown at him. It’s going to take a while befo
re he just trusts. Or accepts.”

  “Which is why you probably shouldn’t worry overly much yet about his apparent lack of progress.”

  He was right, of course. She knew that. And still...she worried.

  But she didn’t want to.

  She also didn’t want him to get up and leave. He’d finished his sandwich. She’d wrapped up hers.

  The meeting was going to end and she wasn’t done.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  ON FRIDAY, REESE grabbed a bag of burritos and drove to Faye’s house. If she wasn’t home, he’d have enough for lunch and dinner.

  He needed to see her without giving her a chance to do any damned planning. He wanted the real Faye—whoever that turned out to be.

  This pussyfooting around, pretending that they didn’t have an intense history, was nuts. It wasn’t going to do the boy any good.

  It sure as hell wasn’t doing Reese any good.

  And he didn’t think it was good for Faye, either. When they’d walked back to their vehicles the day before at the beach, he’d been left with a very clear impression that something wasn’t right for her.

  He’d said he wasn’t a mind reader. She’d said she would ask. She had.

  So what was he doing in return? Other than keeping his distance? Leaving the major responsibility to her? She’d told him quite clearly she was concerned about their son. And he’d told her not to worry.

  Big of him.

  But it was more than that and he knew it.

  Just as he knew, when he saw her car in the drive and then climbed the steps up to her apartment, that she wasn’t going to be pleased to see him.

  It occurred to him that she might have her hair down. No makeup on. Knew he had no business hoping so. He’d always preferred her first-thing-in-the-morning look but it wasn’t his business to pay attention to her appearance now.

  His body would get that straight eventually. He was determined about that.

  He heard her on the other side of the door after his first knock. Figured she would look through the peephole. Steeled himself to look professional.

  An office call with a bag of burritos.

  When the door didn’t immediately open, he showed her the bag. Second thought told him he had a better chance of making it in the door with her favorite fast-food weakness than he did as her employer. Or the father of her child.

  The door opened.

  He’d been right—her hair was down and she wasn’t wearing any makeup. She was wearing her black Lycra shorts, tank bra and a translucent black-and-white top.

  “I brought lunch,” he said before she could send him on his way. Because he thought the chances were good that she would? “Payback for yesterday.” When she’d suggested lunch.

  “You bought yesterday.”

  “See it as a peace offering.”

  “I didn’t realize we needed one.”

  He still had no idea what she needed.

  “How about an apology?” He hadn’t intended to meet her gaze on that one. It had just sort of happened.

  He didn’t like the emotion that surged between them. But it got him in the door.

  “What are you apologizing for?” Faye asked as she brought them both ice tea. She sat with him on the couch, reaching into the bag of burritos and pulling out a wrapped bean-stuffed tortilla. Their glasses were on coasters on the coffee table, along with the bag.

  Helping himself to lunch, he said, “For being such an ass when you first came to town.”

  “You have no reason to apologize. You had every right to be angry with me, Reese. You still do.”

  He wasn’t all that hungry. Was more interested in looking around. “I’m not angry.”

  “You should be.”

  Her place was pristine. Everything in its own spot. He’d expected as much. He’d seen how she’d kept house for her father, and her half of the dorm room she and Carrie had shared. He’d kind of liked that about her. Made her feel...reliable. Like he could trust her.

  “I’m the one who broke trust first, Faye.”

  Looking down, her burrito held suspended, she shook her head. And then faced him. “We can’t keep going back there. You were struggling. I should have come to you and asked what was going on. I should have given you the benefit of a doubt when I got that phone call.”

  “If I’d found myself attracted to Susan, I’d have slept with her that night.”

  “If you’d wanted to do that, you should have. You just should have let me know first.”

  “I had no idea what I wanted. Except that I wasn’t ready to lose you. Which is why I didn’t tell you.” He wasn’t proud of that but there it was.

  When it was happening, he’d figured he’d tell her about it when all was said and done. Figured she’d be glad to hear the outcome.

  He could have done so that Saturday morning. But he hadn’t. He’d taken the easy way out, waiting for her to cool off. Waiting for her to contact him.

  Of course, he’d had no way of knowing that she’d known about Susan. He’d thought they were just dealing with him not going to her party.

  “I was also a bit peeved that you’d told me not to bother to come Saturday. I was going to show you I was just fine missing the whole weekend.” He wasn’t proud of that, either. But maybe...if they dealt with the unresolved issues between them, they could move on to some kind of friendship. For their son’s sake.

  It wouldn’t be the same. Or be enough.

  “I was being jealous and manipulative,” she said. “I was trying to force you to come Friday by attaching Saturday to it, as well. I’m the one who made the critical mistake. You have no need to apologize.” She moved her attention back to her burrito.

  His gaze got tangled up with her breasts. Stayed there.

  He remembered them. Their shape. Their size. The darkening around her nipple.

  No others had ever stacked up to hers.

  He’d missed them.

  “For the past two weeks, I just can’t get the thought out of my head of you unable to enjoy sex. I can’t bear the thought of the passionate woman I knew being so hurt that she can no longer enjoy that passion.”

  Her shrug bugged him. More than he liked.

  “It is what it is. Everything comes with a price. My drunken stupor cost a lot.”

  “No way, Faye. You getting drunk was one thing. What Frank did...that was criminal. And all on him. I just want you to know...in an attempt at full disclosure so we can move forward...that I’m struggling a bit with the whole thing.”

  “My God, Reese. You’ve just found out you’re a father, then add to that that your ex was...sexually abused...of course you’re struggling.”

  “No...” They had to get this out. Get past it. “I mean, yes, of course. All of that. And so much more. I just need you to know...now that I’ve opened my life to you and Elliott... I’m still attracted to you, Faye. I don’t intend to act on it. Although, I’m tempted to help you discover that you still have that passion...” The idea that his actions had led to her pain was killing him. “But I’m not going to because we can’t afford to mess up anything between us. We might lose our son altogether if we do.”

  Which was why he was there. To get them on solid ground before the fragile and tentative friendship between them erupted into something that would upset Elliott’s security again.

  Faye wasn’t saying anything. Was still eating. He figured that must be a good sign. Hoped to God it was.

  “I just think, us pretending that we aren’t close, yet I know just what to bring you for lunch...and you know that I have to eat or I get grouchy...we are close, Faye. We’ve both told our son we love each other, for God’s sake.” Lord knew that one had been bugging him, too.

  One fucking date and he’d blown ever
ything. For himself. But even worse, for Faye. For their son.

  “So...here I am. I care about you. I know you. I want to be a part of your life. If you need anything, you can call me. If you need a friend to talk to—even if it’s not about Elliott, you can call me. I’m here for you. And I will have your back from this point forward. All you have to do is ask.”

  Phew. It was out. All but one thing. “And I’m planning to let everyone at work know the truth about us—in that we were together in the past and my newfound son is your son, Elliott—assuming you’re okay with that?”

  He’d been staring at her slightly bent profile as she ate. Had noticed that she’d stopped chewing somewhere along the way. But he’d had to get it out.

  “Faye?” She wasn’t saying anything. Or moving.

  In the next second, he knew why.

  He’d made her cry again.

  Damn.

  * * *

  SOMEHOW FAYE MADE it through lunch. She’d excused herself to the bathroom. A couple of minutes of cold compress to her eyes had helped. She wasn’t exactly sure what she’d said to Reese when she’d returned, but she thought things were better between them. Wanted them to be.

  He was still attracted to her!

  Lord knew, she wanted to jump his bones, too.

  But the minute her desire turned off would make things awkward all over again. Would make the regrets burn her again, like the acid they were.

  He’d offered friendship.

  Close friendship.

  She’d take it.

  She was to the point of feeling pretty good about things later that afternoon when her phone rang.

  Elliott wasn’t through at the Stand for another couple of hours. After his computer workshop a few Saturdays ago, he’d signed up for a basic programming course on Friday afternoons, offered through the Stand’s computer repair shop and training program. That afternoon was the first class.

  So why was she getting a call from The Lemonade Stand?

  “Faye? This is Sara. Lila and I are here together. Faye, Elliott’s gone missing. We think you should get here as quickly as you can...”