“You can never have too many people loving your kid,” Caleb said.
Everyone nodded. Except Gabe and Addison. They sat just staring at one another.
You know I love Cooper, Addison thought, hoping that Gabe could read that on her face.
She wanted to help him. She wanted to be there for him and Cooper. God, she understood that he wanted to prove to himself that he could handle it. But as she’d learned from this group, no one was really handling it all on their own.
She’d thought she was, but since moving to New Orleans and having this group, as well as Gabe, Caroline, Cooper, and even Logan around and in Stella’s and Addison’s life, she’d realized that she’d been taking care of the basics, for sure, but that Stella had been missing out on having a wider group of friends and family there loving her, too. Yes, Addison’s parents had been there, as had Stella’s day care provider in New York, but the Trahans, and this little makeshift family in the support group, were different. Caroline and Gabe had provided care—food, entertainment, supervision—but the love and attention and interest in the things Stella loved, being able to share her imagination and play with Cooper, being praised by Caroline for her artwork, and being chased around the house by a pirate-sword-wielding Logan were all so much more.
Something that Addison wanted for Stella all the time.
She wanted other people involved. Including other people in their lives didn’t make things complicated and harder. It was amazing. And rather than seeing that as Addison not taking care of Stella, bringing these people into her life and letting them all get close to her and love her was taking care of her on an even bigger level.
And she had the man across the circle from her, the one who was trying so hard to suddenly do this all on his own, to thank for that.
Addison took a deep breath and then risked pushing him away by telling him exactly that. “I can tell you, from my personal experience of doing it pretty much all on my own for about five years, that I was missing out,” she said. She looked around the circle but focused back on Gabe in the end. “I thought that no one could ever love Stella the way I did, but I was wrong about that. Sure, being her mom is unlike what anyone else will ever have with her, but I agree with Caleb. Now. It took me being here, with all of you, and with Gabe’s family, to understand that one of the ways for me to be my best for Stella is to have other people around. People who love her. People who love me. When I’m happy and healthy and supported, I’m better for her.”
Though the whole group knew that she and Gabe had been seeing each other, this was the first time anyone had acknowledged it out loud in the group.
Gabe looked surprised but also pleased that she’d said it. Then sad. Because he thought it was over. “I’ve never done it on my own, though. Doesn’t Cooper need to know that I am the primary person in his life?”
She’d thought that for so long. She’d thought Stella needed to know that Addison was the decision maker and the main go-to person who would always be there when her dad was a flake and her grandparents were doling out tough love. But she’d been wrong.
“It doesn’t matter who’s there for the storm,” Addison said softly, “as long as it’s someone who loves her.”
Gabe’s eyes flared at that. Then his jaw tightened, and he shook his head. “Well, I need to at least be one of the people there for the storm,” he said. “And I haven’t really been. I’ve always happily turned that over to my mom. In the for-better-or-worse and in-sickness-and-in-health stuff of parenting, I’ve been the for-better and in-health guy.”
“Oh, hell, any one of us would have done it that way if we could,” Austin said.
“That doesn’t make it okay,” Gabe said.
“Are you trying to show Cooper that you’re the worse and sicker guy or yourself?” Corey finally asked.
Gabe dragged in a deep breath. “Probably mostly myself.”
“And me?”
Addison was as surprised as anyone that she’d said it out loud. But this group was family. And she didn’t think Gabe would talk to her about it one-on-one.
He’d used the group initially to get to know her and tell her things about himself that she wouldn’t have listened to otherwise. So she would do the same.
Gabe looked across the circle at her but didn’t answer—to confirm or deny it.
She leaned in, resting her forearms on her knees. “Is that what this is about? You’re trying to prove to me that you can do this? That you aren’t just looking for a woman to step in as Mom for Cooper because you don’t want to do all the hard stuff?”
His jaw tightened again. Then he shoved to his feet. “I need to go.”
Crap. She hadn’t meant to push him away. But seriously? He was going to leave because she’d asked the hard question? She hadn’t left the meetings when he’d been pushing her, wanting to get closer, wanting to know all about Stella and her.
She jumped to her feet and scrambled around the chair to get to the outside of the circle, intent on going after him. She couldn’t watch him beat himself up like this, trying to show her that he could be something that she didn’t want him to be anyway. She didn’t care that he wasn’t good with the illnesses and nightmares and problems at day care. He was trying. That was all that mattered. And honestly, he was amazing at all the good stuff. She could take care of the other stuff. She was good at all of that. Because, frankly, she wasn’t as good at the good-time, fun stuff.
“Gabe!” But as she took a step in his direction, she felt a hand wrap around her wrist, keeping her from following.
It was Caleb. She looked down with a frown.
“Let him go, Ad,” he said, watching his friend disappear through the door.
“But—”
“Sit down, honey,” Bea said.
Surprised, Addison glanced at the other woman. “What?”
“Sit. Let’s talk.”
“I don’t need to talk,” Addison said. “Gabe’s the one who’s hurting. Who’s wrong. He doesn’t have to impress me.”
“He’s trying to impress himself,” Corey said from her left.
Addison looked at him. “He doesn’t have to do that.”
“That’s not for you to say,” Corey said.
But . . . she fixed things. She got things done. She took care of things. She was good at the for-worse and the in-sickness stuff. She could handle all of it. Gabe needed her to handle stuff.
“So if he’s wrong about something and making a mistake, I’m not supposed to tell him?” she asked. She looked around the group.
“I’m actually really surprised you’re not just letting him go.”
This came from Lindsey, one of the younger moms, and actually the only one in the group who was currently married. But her husband was overseas, making her essentially a single mom in many important ways. Lindsey was also the one who most often disagreed with Addison’s observations and feelings on parenthood.
Addison frowned across the circle. The younger woman didn’t speak directly to her often. “What does that mean?”
“I’ve listened to you talking for weeks, and I’ve seen you with Stella,” Lindsey said. “You let her try things and succeed or fail on her own. You talk her through things, but you don’t push her into anything. You let her make decisions, even at her age. But you’re not letting Gabe, a grown man, do the same thing.”
Addison sat back and crossed her arms. She wasn’t sure she was up for a critique of her parenting style or her handling of her relationship with Gabe from Lindsey. “And?”
“I’m just saying—this isn’t you,” Lindsey said with a shrug. “Your style is to stand back and let other people be who they are and do what they need to do. You’re right there, ready to jump in if they need you, but you trust them to know when they need you.”
Addison felt a little tension leave her spine. That didn’t sound entirely like a criticism. “Okay,” she acknowledged.
“And you think that’s worked with Stella, right?” Lindsey
pressed.
Addison nodded. She really did. “I think that giving her the security of knowing I’m there, but that I trust her, has worked for her.”
“So why not with Gabe?” Lindsey asked. “Why not let him learn what he needs to learn by doing this? Just letting him know that you’re there for him and that no matter what happens, you’ll love him?”
Addison opened her mouth but realized she wasn’t sure how to answer that. Then suddenly tears pricked the back of her eyes, and she blinked rapidly and swallowed hard. “Because I have full control of Stella’s life,” she finally said. “No matter what she does or tries or succeeds or fails at, I can still fix it.” She blew out a breath. “With anyone else, it’s . . . too hard. It’s hard to just let other people do things their way. My ex did things his way, which meant he was never there for Stella. Or me. My parents did things their way, which meant they put their own high standards and strict rules on things. Stella is the only person in the world I’m completely in charge of.”
Lindsey was listening intently and nodding. Everyone else was completely quiet.
“That’s what the relationship thing with Gabe is about,” Lindsey said. “At some point you’re going to have to trust that he loves you and Stella and Cooper enough to realize that you need to be together, that he trusts you enough to bring you in when he does need you, and that he’s smart enough to realize that you balance each other. But you have to let him parent his way. You have to let him go, like you do Stella. Just be there when he needs you, but let him try this.”
Addison couldn’t believe that, of all the people in the world, this advice—this very good, accurate advice—was coming from Lindsey. She felt her throat tighten. Letting go with Gabe . . . that was hard. That was complicated. That was messy. Because he could really screw things up in her life, in Stella’s life . . . in her heart.
“If you want to go ahead with this thing with you and Gabe,” Lindsey said after a moment, “you have to figure out if you’re okay with letting someone else come into your life and Stella’s and potentially mess things up for a while. He’s not always going to get it right. None of us does. But you have to let him do his thing for his sake. That is what it’s like to have a relationship and parent with someone. When my husband comes home for his stays, he screws up our entire schedule and routine. My kids are used to me being the decision maker and the one to fix things. It makes my husband feel bad when they don’t go to him. But then when I do try to get him involved, he doesn’t know what to do or doesn’t do it the way I do it. It definitely gets messy. But I would rather do it messy than not at all.”
Those were the most continuous words Addison had ever heard Lindsey say at one time. And they were really good ones.
It was going to be the hardest thing she’d ever done, but she was going to let Gabe figure this out on his own.
“You look like shit.”
Gabe grimaced as he pushed a beer toward Caleb. Caleb was sitting across the bar at Trahan’s.
“I’m aware,” he said grimly.
“And you missed the support-group meeting last night.”
Gabe nodded. “Also aware of that.”
“How come?” Caleb lifted the beer bottle to his mouth and took a long draw. But he was watching Gabe closely.
“Stuff came up.”
“Bullshit.” Caleb set his bottle down with a thunk.
“I’m kind of doing this dad thing on my own, remember? And don’t know my ass from my armpits.”
Caleb nodded. Then said “Bullshit” again.
Gabe sighed. “What do you want from me?”
“For you to admit that you’re chicken.”
Gabe frowned. “Chicken? Of what exactly?”
“Falling in love with Addison and Stella.”
Gabe shook his head. “Not chicken. I totally did that. Headfirst. All in.” And his heart clenched at the thought of it. He missed them like crazy. He missed everything about them and had felt a huge gaping hole in his heart—hell, in his life—over the past two weeks.
“You did it. And then ran.”
“Fuck off,” Gabe said. “This is about Cooper, not the girls.”
Caleb just gave Gabe a raised brow and took another drink.
“What?” Gabe demanded. “You don’t think so?”
“How is Cooper?” Caleb asked instead of answering.
“Fine.”
“Everything okay at day care?”
Gabe shrugged. “Miss Linda got a warning from her supervisors that she seems to be taking seriously. The parents of the two kids called me to apologize. I stopped by unannounced at quiet time twice, and everything was good.”
“Cooper’s not resisting going or anything?”
“No.”
“He still carrying flashlights everywhere he goes?”
“The alligator one that Stella gave him.”
“Because he loves alligators and Stella,” Caleb said.
Gabe nodded. That was exactly why. His son seemed to have bounced back just fine, honestly.
“So why the hell are you not planning a huge, over-the-top, elaborate proposal for Addison and coming to support group?” Caleb asked.
Gabe turned away from his friend, rearranging the glasses behind the bar. That didn’t need rearranged. “Busy. This single-parenting thing is new for me, remember?”
“And you don’t have to be a single parent, remember?” Caleb shot back.
Gabe felt the tension knotting his neck. “Not so sure about that.”
“Jesus, Gabe, do you know what I would give to have my mom living close enough to help out like yours did? Do you know how thankful I would be if I had a brother who was always there to help out? Do you have any fucking idea how amazing it would be if I found a woman like Addison? I would grab on to her and never fucking let go.”
Gabe felt his chest tighten. Yeah, he did know all of that. How could he not? And he’d heard it all before in one way or another. But he’d never really appreciated it. And he needed to.
“Not being a single parent when you don’t have to doesn’t make you weak or incapable or a bad dad, Gabe. So what the hell are you doing?” Caleb asked, his voice lower and his tone sincere.
Gabe dragged in a breath and turned to face the other man. “I have to be worthy.”
Caleb shook his head. “That’s the thing, man. You don’t.”
“How can I ask to have her let me in to be a dad to Stella when I’m not even being a dad to my own kid?” He shoved a hand through his hair. “I’ve just been going along, doing things the easy, convenient way. They deserve better.”
Caleb leaned onto the bar and leveled Gabe with a serious stare. “Nothing is easy or convenient about being a parent. Not when you give a shit. And you, my friend, definitely give a shit.”
Gabe felt a stupid shiver of hope go through his chest. Was it possible he’d been doing some of it right? “I don’t know.”
Caleb went on. “I don’t care if your mom’s been helping with dinner or Logan helps with babysitting, you are Cooper’s parent. Parenting, true parenting, the parenting that matters—regardless of blood or situation—is about the emotions. The worry, the guilt, the protectiveness, the heartache when something goes wrong, the overwhelming joy when things go right. Not even if you’re married, or have a full-time nanny, or only have your kids every other weekend. Because parenting isn’t about the time or the actions. Not really. Anyone can do that. Being a parent is about letting your heart get broken and then healed again over and over and over by something as simple as a smile or a page in a coloring book or a bad day at day care. And later by the things they go through that you can’t fix. And then after that, their moving out and not needing you as much. And then after that, watching them do it all and try to figure it out. And it’s about not walling yourself off from that—because that shit hurts. It’s about not pushing away from that but embracing it because you know that even when it hurts, nothing feels as good as that kind of love.”
Gabe was staring at his friend. Holy shit. He knew that Caleb had been shocked to find out that his sister had named him guardian of his niece in her will. He knew that Caleb had actually looked into other alternatives for Shay, thinking that she’d be better off with someone else. But the social worker had asked him to keep Shay while she researched options, and it took only about three days for him to realize that he was going to be a dad.
Still, all of this . . . this insight and heartfelt, sincere emotion was something.
“And the most important thing is,” Caleb said after a long pause, “Addison loves you. So you don’t have to be worthy or prove anything. Love means you don’t have to be perfect.”
“You think she still feels that way?” He’d thought about that almost constantly since walking out of the meeting last week. He hadn’t wanted to leave, but he couldn’t sit there and reassure her that this had nothing to do with her. Because that wasn’t true. He wasn’t doing all of this just to get on her good side, but he was doing it because she’d changed him. She made him want to do better, to be more, to be everything to Stella and her. And Cooper. Being with her, wanting to be good enough for her, had made him look at how he was falling short with his own son.
“Of course she still feels that way,” Caleb said. “She tried to go after you last week, but we held her back.”
“She tried to come after me?” Gabe was a little surprised by that. Addison wasn’t the type to do that. She was the type to let people figure their shit out on their own.
“She did. But we all knew that she needed to be able to let things get messy. She needed to let things be complicated. And you walking out—and not coming back, by the way—made things really complicated.”
Gabe nodded. “I couldn’t sit there and pretend to have advice for other people.” He swallowed. “And I couldn’t sit there and not be with her.”
“So, don’t. Sit there and be with her,” Caleb said.
Gabe felt his heart ache. He hadn’t meant to worry her. Or hurt her. He just didn’t want her to see him struggling. He told Caleb as much.
“You have to,” his friend said. “You have to let her see that. You have to struggle together. Because you’re a dad, she’s a mom—there’s never not going to be some struggle there.”
Going Down Easy (Boys of the Big Easy) Page 22