by Leigh Bale
Matt cleaned up and dressed in faded jeans, a blue polo shirt and tennis shoes. He used to wear cutoffs or shorts when he worked out, but no more. The scars on his legs weren’t pretty.
After brushing his teeth, he combed his hair. It was getting longer than he liked. Time to find a good barber in town.
As an afterthought, he splashed a bit of cologne on his face, gritting until the sting passed. Before leaving his apartment, he reached for two packages he had sitting on the kitchen table. He’d bought and wrapped them two days ago, waiting for the right moment to present them to Andie and Davie. Then he drove to Andie’s house on the other side of town, feeling anxious and giddy at the same time.
“You must be crazy,” he murmured to himself as he put on the blinker, then turned the corner. Being around Andie was suicide, flooding him with regret. He could hardly believe she hadn’t told Davie negative things about him. Matt figured most women would bad-mouth their estranged husband. But not Andie.
He parked out front, his gaze taking in the house, white with green trim. A classic forest ranger’s house. Andie paid rent and maintained the home, but she didn’t own the house. That’s how it worked in the forest service.
The flower beds had been freshly raked of dead leaves. He knew Andie hadn’t been in town much longer than him, and he guessed she’d started bringing the yard back to life in preparation for spring planting. He expected nothing less. Andie had a green thumb; her academic training had been in plants and minerals. Which worked well with her ranger district, filled with mining and grazing permittees. She knew her job well, and he couldn’t help feeling proud of her accomplishment in becoming a forest ranger. A rare breed of only four hundred nationwide.
As he carried the packages up the front steps, Matt caught the tantalizing aroma of dinner cooking. His stomach rumbled and he rang the doorbell.
The sound of running feet came from inside, and then the door jerked open. Davie stood there wearing his Rocketman cape, pajamas and floppy-eared dog slippers. Matt couldn’t help wondering if the boy ever took off the cape.
“Hi!” Davie pushed open the screen door, but Matt didn’t step inside.
“Is your mom here?”
“Who is it, Davie?” Andie’s voice came from the kitchen.
“It’s Matt,” the boy yelled back.
Andie appeared in the doorway, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She looked casual in faded blue jeans and a T-shirt, her slender feet bare. That’s what he liked most about this woman. No fuss or muss, in spite of her penchant for neatness. Memories of their life together flashed through Matt’s mind and left him filled with such yearning that he longed to go back in time and undo his decision to walk away. Andie in their kitchen fixing dinner. Andie out in the garden, weeding her tomato plants. Andie with her hair curled and smelling divine as he took her out for a night on the town.
When she saw Matt, her eyes widened. “What are you doing here?”
“I—I—” Matt stammered in confusion.
“I invited him. You said I could.” The screen door creaked as Davie pushed it wide.
“I did?” Andie stared at her son, and her knuckles whitened around the dish towel.
“Yeah, I asked if I could invite a friend over for dinner and you said yes.” Two deep furrows creased Davie’s brow. He looked at his mother like she’d gone daft.
Oh, no. Obviously there’d been a misunderstanding. Matt had known the invitation to dinner was too good to be true.
He shifted the gifts in his left arm, leaning his weight on the cane with his right hand. “Looks like we’ve both been duped by a five-year-old. I didn’t mean to intrude. I can come back another time.”
Anger smoldered in her eyes, her gaze darting between the packages and his face. His pulse hitched into triple time. The last thing he wanted was to upset Andie. He took a step back, planning to bid her farewell and return later when she didn’t feel ambushed. Instead, he stumbled and almost fell down the steps. A wrenching cry broke from his lips as he dropped the gifts into the flower bed. His cane clattered to the porch and he staggered against the railing, panting hard.
“Matt!” Andie reached for him.
He bent his head so she wouldn’t see the agony in his eyes. The excruciating pain and humiliation.
“Are you okay?”
She hovered beside him, her hands clutching his arm. The warmth of her fingers sent electric shockwaves over his body. He liked the worried tone of her voice, but didn’t want her pity. It’d been a long time since someone had worried about him, but he wouldn’t use tricks to win her back. He hadn’t planned to be so clumsy or for his leg to hurt like lightning bolts hurtling through his thigh. He wanted to be strong. To be everything for his family.
“I’m f-fine. Just let—let me catch my breath.” He clenched his jaw, fighting off waves of pain.
She pulled a wicker chair over for him to sit down on the porch. He fell back into the chair, breathing hard as he massaged his thigh muscle with his hand. How he hated showing her this weakness. Hated for her to ever know how he’d gotten to this point.
“Davie, get a cup of water,” she said.
While the boy raced inside, she knelt beside Matt, her hands clasping the armrest. “Do you need me to call 9-1-1? What can I do?”
He looked at her anguished face and gritted a smile. “You’ve done it already. Just give me a moment.”
Davie returned, looking serious as he sloshed water over the brim of a red sippy cup minus the lid. Matt chuckled as he accepted the boy’s offering.
“Thanks, Davie.” Matt drained the small cup in two long swallows. The pain eased by small degrees and his breathing calmed. In spite of the chilly air, sweat dripped from his forehead and he brushed it aside. Andie must have noticed because she stood, her expression severe.
“Do you feel well enough to come inside? I have a recliner where you can elevate your leg.”
Davie retrieved Matt’s cane and handed it to him.
“Sure. I’m fine.” He smiled at the boy, doing his best to reassure them both.
Andie took Matt’s arm and helped him inside while Davie held the door wide.
At the threshold, Matt hesitated. “I don’t want to play on your sympathies, Andie. I won’t come in unless you really want me here. My injury has nothing to do with our marriage.”
She bit her bottom lip and looked away, a dead giveaway to her apprehension. He’d learned to read her body language long ago and figured she hadn’t changed that much in the years he’d been gone. She didn’t want him here.
“Come inside for now. Davie invited you.”
Okay, that set some limits. She would honor Davie’s invitation. At least for now.
“How did you hurt your leg?” she asked.
“Just an accident. I’ll be fine.” He wasn’t about to tell her the story of the wildfire and the death of his crewman. Not when the guilt still ripped him apart every time he thought about it.
Davie retrieved the packages Matt had dropped in the flower bed and set them on the coffee table. “Is one of these for me?”
Matt smiled. “Yep. The blue one. The pink one is for your mom.”
“Why don’t you two chat while I get dinner on?” Andie ignored the gifts as she opened the drapes wide. Then she disappeared into the kitchen, leaving him and Davie alone. Easily within earshot. Now and then she peered around the corner, making Matt self-conscious. Obviously she didn’t like leaving him alone with the boy. Matt was determined to win her trust.
Davie tore open his gift like a rabid wolf. Matt laughed, pleased by the child’s enthusiasm.
“What’s this for?” Davie asked as he shredded the delicate paper.
“Your birthday.”
“But my birthday isn’t for weeks. Mom said I can have a party and invite friends over for cake. You can come if you want to.”
Matt would love to be here, but he’d wait for an invitation from Andie first. “This gift is for your last birthday I missed.�
�
“A baseball glove. Thanks!” Davie dug the glove out of the box and put it on his right hand.
“You wear it like this, hotshot.” Matt pulled the glove off and put it on the boy’s left hand. “Now you can catch with your left hand and throw with your right. You are right-handed, aren’t you?”
Matt used his own hands to show the motions in the air.
“Yep. I’m a righty.” Davie sat on the sofa and scooted back, smacking his right fist against the palm of his new glove. He watched Matt with intense, wide eyes.
As Matt eased himself into the recliner, he couldn’t help wondering if Andie had told Davie who he really was. He eyed the wrapped gift he’d brought for her, wishing she’d open it now. He’d leave it here, and hopefully she’d open it after he left.
“My dad’s name is Matt. He’s a hotshot,” Davie said.
“Is that so?” A lump formed in Matt’s throat, and he tried to swallow.
“Yep. He plays baseball like me.”
“I love baseball.”
The child heaved a satisfied sigh, his big blue eyes un-blinking. “You’re my daddy.”
Matt coughed, his throat dry as sandpaper.
Chapter Four
Matt spoke around the hard lump in his throat. “How do you know I’m your daddy? Did your mother tell you that?”
Davie shook his head. “Mom has a picture of you in her bottom drawer. Sometimes I sneak in and peek at it.”
Before Matt could respond, the boy hopped off the couch and padded out of the room. Matt sat there in confusion. Had he said something wrong?
The child returned and handed Matt a picture of him with his arm around Andie, smiling and snuggled together on a large boulder at the Grand Canyon. Their honeymoon. Matt remembered it like yesterday. The best time of his life. They’d been so in love. So happy.
And he’d destroyed it all.
Davie sat on the ottoman. “Mom said you’d come meet me one day. Why’d you leave us?”
Us. Fascinating how Davie assumed he’d always been in his parents’ lives.
“I didn’t know about you when I left. Your mom had you after I was gone.”
“So why didn’t you come back?” The boy’s eyes filled with awe and dejection at the same time.
Matt’s mind scrambled for a legitimate excuse that wouldn’t lose him any respect in his son’s eyes. “The truth is, I was selfish. I wanted to fight wildfires in Oregon, which meant I had to transfer up there.”
“Why didn’t you take us with you?”
“Your mom didn’t want to move. She wanted to stay in one place and raise a family. I wanted to build my career.”
“Can’t you stay with us and build your career, too?”
Boy, this kid wasn’t making things easy. “It’s not quite that simple, son.”
His son. A bright boy who was confronting him with the truth while trying hard to understand why his father had left him.
“Mom said you don’t want her. You just want to see me.”
“That’s not true. I want both of you. Very much.” Matt spoke around the emotion in his voice, hoping to dispel any misunderstandings right now.
“Really? You mean it?”
“Yes, I mean it.”
“Pinkie promise?” The child held out his hand, his pinkie finger hooked slightly.
As Matt looped his pinkie finger around Davie’s and they shook, he fought the urge to smile. “Pinkie promise.”
Davie tilted his head in confusion. “Mom must not know you still want her. You should tell her.”
Or rather, she no longer wanted Matt. He couldn’t believe it was too late to win her back. He couldn’t give up hope.
“Hey! You want to come to my T-ball game in two weeks? It’s the first of the season,” Davie said.
Matt flinched, having trouble keeping up with the change in topics. It appeared his son had forgiven him so easily. If only Andie could do the same. “I’d love to.”
Davie scooted off the ottoman, his face alight with excitement. “All the other dads come. Brian Phelps says I don’t have a dad. Won’t he be surprised when you show up? You want to see my uniform?”
Matt’s heart wrenched. Thinking about his son growing up without a father almost unmanned him. Matt had so much apologizing to do. So much lost time to make up for. “I’d like that.”
Davie ran across the room and disappeared down the hallway. Matt looked up and found Andie standing in the doorway, her eyes filled with annoyance.
“I didn’t invite you to dinner, you know.” She crossed her arms.
“I know that now. I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. I’m not used to how little boys work.”
“Oh, sure you are.” She leaned against the wall. “They’re just smaller versions of grown men.”
Matt sighed with resignation. This wasn’t going to be easy. For any of them. In the old days, he would have snapped back at Andie, but he just didn’t want to anymore. She must be so hurt and angry. Nothing but remorse and love for her filled his heart. “I suppose you’re right. But eventually even grown men grow up.”
She stepped away from the wall, her mouth tight with disapproval. “I hope so.”
Realizing Matt was watching her, Andie blinked and began picking up toys around the living room. She’d overheard Davie’s conversation with Matt and didn’t like it one bit. How she wished Davie could get to know his father without becoming emotionally attached. But Davie loving Matt was inevitable. The boy wanted his father. So much. For that reason alone, Andie had let Matt into her house.
Against her better judgment.
“You put him into baseball?” Matt asked.
She shrugged. “He started last year. It’s what he chose.”
“I guess it’s in his blood.”
She straightened, a roller skate dangling from her fingers. “Actually, he saw a picture of you playing baseball in college and refused to consider any other sport.”
He glanced around the room. “I don’t see any pictures of me. Not a single one.”
She looked away. “He went snooping and found the photo albums I had put away in the bottom of my cedar chest. He’s a bit like you. Intelligent and precocious.” She didn’t mean it as a compliment. “Once Davie realized you’d played baseball, that was it. He insisted he would, too.”
And she didn’t have the heart to hide the pictures from Davie. At first, she’d left photos of Matt out, hoping he’d return. After a year, the photographs became a constant reminder of what she’d lost, and she’d finally put them away.
“Smart kid,” Matt said.
“Yes, he is.”
“I can understand why you didn’t want to show him pictures of me.”
She turned, her gaze locking with his. All the years of waiting and hoping, fighting off the loneliness and hurt, came boiling up inside her fast and hard. “I didn’t want him to hurt as much as I did.”
“I’m sorry for hurting you, Andie.”
“Yeah, right.” She pursed her lips tight.
“I didn’t know he existed until a few days ago. And he didn’t know me.”
She hardened her jaw. “And whose fault is that? You left me, remember?”
“If you’d just called and told me I had a son—”
Davie stood in the doorway, looking between them. He wore his Redhawks uniform, the leather baseball glove firmly on his left hand. His little face crinkled with worry. “Are you guys having a fight?”
Matt flashed a smile and gestured to his son. Davie walked closer and Matt squeezed his arm. “No, we’re just having a grown-up discussion, that’s all. Hey! This uniform looks great on you. Maybe we can play catch sometime.”
Davie’s eyes brightened. “How about now?”
“It’s dark outside and getting late. You haven’t had your dinner yet.” Andie turned and folded the burgundy afghan before draping it over the back of the couch.
“How about tomorrow evening after I get off work?” Matt stood and tugg
ed on the brim of Davie’s baseball cap.
“Yeah! But aren’t you staying for supper?”
Matt shook his head. “Sorry, hotshot. I can’t. Maybe another time.”
“Ah!” Davie walked him to the door. “Don’t be late tomorrow, or it’ll be supper time and Mom won’t let me go out cause she thinks it’s too dark and cold.”
“You got it.”
Matt looked over the boy’s head at Andie. She stood in the middle of the room, feeling harsh and unforgiving. She didn’t say anything, wishing Matt would leave. If she told him not to come back, he’d find another way to visit Davie. His work provided plenty of opportunity to schedule meetings where Andie would need to be present.
She refused to be forced to do something she didn’t want to do. But getting Matt out of her life again would take a gigantic miracle.
Finally Davie was asleep. After Matt left, the boy had been so wound up, he barely ate any dinner. Dad this and Dad that. Davie had gone on and on about what he planned to do with his father. Andie had never seen her son so animated. Not even on Christmas morning.
Oh, Matt. Please don’t hurt us again.
Turning off the hall light, she sat in the recliner and stared at the gift Matt had brought her. A small package wrapped in dainty pink paper with a pretty white bow. Her fingers itched to know what was inside. She remembered the last time he’d bought her a gift—on their third anniversary, three months before he left. An exquisite heart-shaped ruby necklace she hadn’t worn since. Sometimes she took it out of the box and held it in her hands, usually at night when she couldn’t sleep and was all alone so no one heard her cry.
Standing, she picked up Matt’s gift and carried it to the kitchen, where she dropped it into the garbage can. The thunk as it hit bottom mirrored her empty heart. It felt good to let it go. To mentally tell Matt no. He couldn’t just walk back into her life like this. Her heart no longer had room for him.
Flipping off the living room light, she walked through the dark to her bedroom. She sat on the corner of her bed and folded her hands in her lap, letting the quiet of the house settle her nerves.