by Shirley Jump
Mike ran a hand through his hair and glanced at Diana. “Can you watch Ellie for a minute so I can talk go to Jenny?”
Diana nodded. Her green eyes softened with sympathy. “She got pretty attached to that dog. It’s understandable that she’s heartbroken. Give her some time; she’ll be okay.”
“I hope so.”
“Jenny’s mad,” Ellie said. “She wants a doggie.”
Mike ruffled Ellie’s hair. “Yup. And I wanna talk to her for a minute. Okay?”
Ellie nodded. Her thumb went back in her mouth and she clutched Teddy tight to her chest.
Mike headed into the kennel area. The shelter had closed, and the lights were dim, the halls empty. Dogs barked and yipped, pouncing on the kennel doors, hoping for attention. In the distance, he could hear the cats meow.
“Jen?” Jenny had stopped calling Cinderella’s name, but over the sound of the dogs, he heard something worse than the hopeful cries of a child.
Sobbing. Body-heaving, chest-wracking, soul-deep sobs.
The kind that broke his heart in two and made him wish he could clone that dog, or offer up a miracle Band-Aid that would take away all the disappointment. He turned the corner and found Jenny curled into a tight ball in the corner of the room, her body turned toward the concrete wall, her shoulders shuddering and her breath coming in big, loud gulps.
Mike lowered himself beside her on the floor. He reached out an arm and drew her to him. Jenny resisted for a moment, but Mike held on, and wrapped his other arm around his heartbroken child. “I’m sorry, Jenny. I’m sorry.”
She shook her head. “You promised, you promised.”
“I know.” He lifted her chin until she was looking at him, then brushed away the damp locks of hair on her cheeks. Her face was red and her eyes were swollen. In that moment, he would have given his left arm to ease the hurt in her heart. This was what it felt like to be a real parent, he realized. To want happiness for your child more than you wanted it for yourself. He might not be the best parent in the world, but he was going to do the best damned job he could as a dad. “Jenny, think about how Cinderella’s family feels. If I lost you, I’d be so upset and not stop until I found you. Once I did, I’d never want to let you go.” Kind of how he felt now, at the end of thirty days with his children. And they were now, truly, his children. He didn’t want to let them go. Didn’t want to leave. He wanted the picnics on the beach and ice-cream lunches and bedtime stories every single day. “I’d also be awful grateful to whoever had taken care of you and made sure you were safe and happy.”
“But, Daddy, you promised.” She lifted her tearstained face to his. Her lower lip trembled. “You said Cinderella and you go wherever we go. Remember?”
“I know, and we’ll get another dog.” He waved toward the other kennels, full of pets desperate for a home. “Any dog you want.”
Jenny shook her head and pulled out of his arms. She looked cold and lonely, huddled against the wall again, but her little face was stony. “You promised and now you’re leaving and we’re not going to get a dog or go to Alaska and see you. And we’re going to end up with the neighbor or some stranger or in foster care. And you’ll be gone. You’re leaving. Everybody leaves all the time.” The tears started again, silent, slow rivers streaming down her cheeks, puddling on her bare knees.
Mike sighed. The conversation with Jasmine. He hadn’t been as discreet as he’d hoped. He should have taken it outside. He could kick himself for letting her overhear any of it. “Honey, it’s going to be okay.”
“No it’s not! Because Jasmine is going to Vegas. And we have nowhere to stay. Cuz you have to go back to Alaska. You said we’d be together, Daddy. You said we’d go everywhere with you.” She jerked forward, the tears coming steady now, and started pounding her little fists against his chest. “You promised, Daddy, you promised.”
He’d spent eight years letting his daughters down. Eight years being a sucky drive-by dad who made promises and broke them, never thinking about how that would erode their trust, uproot their foundation and leave the two of them standing on a shifting, sandy base. Over the last few weeks, the girls had learned to trust him, to believe that he would stand by his word, and now, he’d let them down again, with two events out of his control. But to an eight-year-old, it didn’t matter who was responsible for her heartbreak. It mattered that she had trusted him and he hadn’t come through.
He couldn’t fix this like he could an engine. Couldn’t order a new part or weld a piece back together. He couldn’t go out on a mission and rescue the panicked boater who’d misjudged the tides or the strength of a storm. On base, on a mission, Mike knew what to do, how to fix the impossible, but when it came to parenting, he had no easy solutions, no backup plan for a time like this, when things went totally, completely FUBAR.
He caught his daughter’s hands with his own and met her teary eyes. “Jenny, I—”
“Why can’t we go with you to Alaska? We’ll be good, Daddy, I promise.”
How he wished he had some parenting guidebook for a moment like this. Something to tell him the right answer, the right words to say that would soothe his daughter’s fears and let her know it would be okay.
He swiped away her tears with his thumb. “I can’t take you with me to Alaska because sometimes I’m gone for a couple weeks, and I can’t leave you girls alone like that.”
“Then where are we gonna go?” Jenny’s eyes welled, then overflowed again.
He let out a big breath. He hadn’t figured that out yet. He thought of the picture of the baby bear and her hero dad that Jenny had drawn, the word she’d put below that. RESCUED. These kids were counting on him to save them, too, to provide them with the stability they had lacked all their lives. If that meant uprooting his life and changing everything he knew, so be it.
He drew Jenny to his chest and smoothed her hair with his palm. She trembled against him, her tears soaking his shirt. He didn’t have a plan, he didn’t have an answer. All he had right now was a soul-deep love for his daughters and a conviction that somehow, some way, he would make this right. “You’re gonna go with me, baby. You’re going to go with me.”
• • •
Diana locked up the shelter, then got in her car. It was after six, and the traffic through Rescue Bay was dying down, people returning to their homes, warm dinners on the stove and family meals around the table.
And she… she was going home to a Lean Cuisine and some crappy reality TV shows.
Mike was back at Luke’s with his daughters, for just a couple more days. She’d watched the way he’d talked to his daughters earlier today, easing their sorrow about the dog’s adoption, and seen a man unlike the one she’d met in January.
The man who’d scooped both his heartbroken little girls into his arms and had them laughing five seconds later was a man with staying power. A man who loved his family, and wouldn’t leave them in the shoe department because a pretty girl had asked for his autograph. A man who would put down roots, build a home, and fill it with memories and laughter. A man any woman in her right mind would want to fall in love with, to marry.
But every time Diana thought about taking that next step with Mike, her brain threw out the brakes. She could sleep with him, indulge in this crazy infatuation that’d had her saying she loved him months ago, but anything more—
And she ran like a rabbit at the start of hunting season.
She reached the turn for her street. The thought of that empty house, the echoing walls, the microwaved dinner…
She made a right instead and swung back through town, retracing the route she had just taken. She pulled into the shelter’s lot, shut off the car, and debated. Go back to work to waste the hours until bedtime, or go…
Next door.
To Mike.
She glanced at his rental house, and through the window, she caught a glimpse of him in the kitchen with the girls. Ellie was dancing on a chair and Jenny was standing by the stove with Mike, the two of them work
ing on something for dinner. Something warm and ready and homemade.
Diana got out of the car, crossed to the house, and rapped on the back door. When he saw her, Mike’s eyes widened with surprise. He looked so damned good, wearing a blue polo that he’d left untucked over khaki shorts. He was barefoot, and his long, muscular legs reminded her of that night in the pool. His military cut had grown out a little in the last month. The longer hair suited him well, made his features seem even more defined, his eyes look even bluer. “Diana.”
When he said her name, it felt like honey melting down her spine. She wanted to ask him to say it again and again. Instead, she stood there and offered up a lame smile.
“I… ah…” How did she explain why she was on his doorstep? “I saw you cooking dinner.”
He grinned. “Yeah, the takeout-every-night thing was getting old. Nothing too complicated, just spaghetti and a little Ragú, but I did slice the bread myself.”
“Sounds much better than what I had planned.”
“Let me guess. A frozen dinner alone on the lanai?”
“How’d you know?”
He shrugged. “I know you better than you know yourself, Diana.” Then he opened the door wider and waved toward the kitchen. “Come on in. I made plenty.”
She stepped inside and was immediately enveloped in twin hugs from Jenny and Ellie. In seconds, the girls had her at the stove, stirring the sauce and joining in the debate about whether adding cheese directly to the sauce was better than on top of the spaghetti. In the end, they decided to do both.
They ate, they laughed, and then, when dinner was done and the dishes were waiting, the girls dashed out of the room with a giggle.
“They have this uncanny instinct for sensing when it’s time for KP and they skedaddle as quick as they can,” Mike said. He got to his feet, loading the dirty dishes in the sink.
“All kids are born with that instinct.” Diana grabbed the dish towel and slid into place beside Mike. “A lot of them master it as adults.”
“Not me. I kind of like to clean. I know, I know. It’s a sickness. But it makes me feel like the world is set to rights again if everything is tidy.”
She laughed. “You sound like Betty Crocker or something.”
He splashed a little water on her. “Hey, some women would appreciate a man like me. One who dusts and folds and does dishes.”
It was a joke, but it hit at the heart of the thoughts she’d been having earlier. That she was denying herself the very thing she said she wanted, and closing off a door that she’d always told herself was open, if only she met the right man.
Mike was right—she was the one afraid of commitment. Of settling down. Of putting her heart and soul into another’s hands.
She took the clean plate he handed her and circled it with the dish towel. “I saw you with the girls. You’ve really built a strong relationship with them this past month. I bet it’s going to be hard to leave.”
“Turns out I’m not leaving after all.”
She stopped drying. “What?”
He shut off the water and put his back to the sink. “I put in a change of station request to be transferred to the Clearwater base.”
“You’re moving… here?”
He nodded. “Effective as soon as they can put the paperwork through. My ex just ran off to Vegas to get married, and she had no one lined up to watch the girls. I didn’t want to leave them with someone I didn’t know—in fact, I didn’t want to leave them at all—so I looked at Jasmine’s trip as an opportunity. I called up the Clearwater command, explained the situation with Jasmine and the girls, and got lucky because there was an opening. They must have been pretty desperate, because they got the ball rolling already.”
“Wow. That’s… great.” He’d be here, just a couple towns away, and if she wanted that relationship, wanted to take that risk, she had no more excuses holding her back.
Well, she had one. Mike had changed in the last thirty days, from a man running from commitment to one looking for permanence. A home for his girls. He’d want to settle down again, marry someone whose values followed his. Someone who put their children first, all the time.
He’d called her a superhero. Told her she was one of the best parents he knew. But he didn’t know the truth about Diana.
That she felt like a failure every day of her life. That she’d never forgiven herself for the mistakes of her past, and that was what ate at her when she watched her son traveling the same dangerous path.
“That’s great,” she said again, “really great. The girls will be so excited.” She laid the dish towel on the counter and reached for her keys. “Thanks for dinner. I should get home.”
“Why did you come here?”
“I told you. I saw you cooking dinner and I was hungry and—”
“Bullshit.” He pushed off from the counter and caught her hands in his, curling one palm around the thick fob of keys. “Why did you come here, Diana?”
“Because I wanted a taste of that image in the window, just for tonight.” She shook her head, then pulled her hands out of his. “This was a mistake. I’m sorry.”
“Why not have that life forever? With me?”
She hesitated, her back to him. Her breath caught in her chest. “What did you say?”
With one gentle touch he turned her around to face him. Behind Diana, the door; in front of her, Mike’s blue eyes, intent and serious, seeing past every one of her fears. “I said I want to marry you. I love you, Diana. I have for a long time. And I don’t want to let you go this time.”
Oh, damn, now she was going to cry. She’d wanted to make a smooth, clean exit. Thank him for the meal and get back to her own house, without betraying the riot of emotions in her. It was her hormones, coupled with the stress of the last few days.
Yeah, well, now she was lying to herself, too.
He started to move closer, but she put up a hand to stop him. “Mike… don’t. Please.”
“What are you so afraid of?”
“Screwing up another family.” Then she was gone, before she made another foolish mistake.
Thirty
Jackson stood on the doorstep, his backpack slung over one shoulder. He waited there until he heard the taxi pull out of the driveway and go down the street. He took a deep breath, reached for the knob, then walked into the very house he had left a week ago.
Mary noticed him first. She scrambled down the hall, her nails clicking on the tile, and barreled straight into him. She knocked him back a few steps, and Jackson dropped to his knees, laughing and hugging the dog to him. “Missed me, girl? I missed you, too.”
When he looked up, his mother was standing in the hall. “Jackson?” The word came out half sob, half surprise.
He got to his feet, giving Mary one last pat. For a second, he felt like a stranger, as if he’d stepped into the wrong house. He’d shut a door when he left here, and he wasn’t sure he had the right to open it again. “I’m… home. If that’s okay.”
“Of course it is.” She came down the hall and drew him into a hug. “Oh, God, I’m so glad you’re home. I missed you.”
When he caught the familiar scent of her fragrance as she enveloped him in a warm hug, he was five years old again and running up to her because he was scared or cold or tired. In an instant, his hesitation about returning disappeared. He tightened his grip on her, on the familiar.
“I’m sorry, Mom.”
“It’s okay, it’s okay.” She cupped the back of his head, even though he stood a few inches taller than her now.
“I’m sorry I left the way I did,” he said, his voice muffled by her T-shirt. “I was so mad at you and I thought you were going to send me to jail or something. And Dad kept promising we’d have all this fun together, but I should have known better.”
Mom drew back and looked at him. “What happened?”
“Dad got a call from his manager. They wanted him to perform at some super important place and so he said yes, and he said
I could go, but I’d have to stay at the hotel. He just… ignored me. Like, the first five minutes of being on the boat, he was all cool and teaching me to drive and stuff, but then it was like he didn’t know what to say or how to talk to me. I kept asking him if we could go fishing or swimming, but he was, like, on his phone all the time.” Jackson scoffed. “Then yesterday, he had all these people over for a party and I was just like… extra baggage. I told him I wanted to go back home, and he just said fine, and gave me enough money for a plane ticket and cab fare. Had some guy who worked for him drive me to the airport. Couldn’t even stop the party long enough to take me himself.” He shook his head and wrapped his arms around his thin chest. It didn’t make the cold in his heart go away. “Like he didn’t even care about me.”
“Your father still has a little growing up to do, Jackson,” Mom said, and for a second, it seemed as if she understood everything. “I know he loves you, but I don’t think he knows how to love you, if that makes sense.”
Jackson nodded. “Yeah, it does.”
She brushed his hair back and smiled up at him. “You’ll get there someday with him. One of these days he’ll wake up and realize what a gift you are and he’ll move heaven and earth to have a relationship with you.”
All these years, he’d held his father up as the perfect parent, the one who just needed a chance to spend time with him. He realized now that the parent who truly loved him and knew him was his mother. She was the one who had taught him how to read and given him a curfew and worked to get him into a good school. She was the one he wanted to live with, because she was the one who had never ignored him or relegated him to the sidelines. When he was with his mom, it never felt like she was treating him like a little kid or like an unwanted stowaway. It felt like… home.
Jackson hugged her again, tighter this time. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Anytime, Jackson. Anytime.” She drew back, then brushed away the hair on his forehead again, then cupped his face. “Are you hungry? How about we order pizzas and stay up too late watching really bad movies on TV? I hear they’re running Sharknado again tonight.”