First Came Baby

by Kris Fletcher

  Of course, her twelve-year-old self had had no idea that the days and weeks and months after the funeral would be the hardest as she learned what it truly meant to live without the only father she’d known. And yet here she was, thirty years old, still clinging to that same belief.

  Boone had offered to take the bus to Ottawa and then taxi to the airport, but Kate had refused. Jamie deserved every minute with his dad, she said.

  She ordered herself to stop listening to the little voice inside that kept reminding her that every moment they were together was another chance for him to change his mind.

  But there was no hesitation as Boone stowed his bags in the trunk.

  And no sounds of regret as he said that he would sit in the back for the drive, so he could keep Jamie amused.

  And no words for her as they drove, other than those related to their son.

  When she turned in to the airport and started to switch to the lane leading to the parking lot, he said, “Just drop me at the curb.”

  “But I—”

  “Kate. Jamie fell asleep. Just drop me. It’ll be fine.”

  She pressed her lips tight and steered toward the Air Canada departures area.

  When she pulled up to the curb, he sat motionless. She had the oddest feeling that he hadn’t truly understood what was happening until this moment.

  On the other hand, she was barely going through the motions herself.

  She didn’t trust herself to turn around. She watched in the rearview mirror as Boone’s hand hovered over Jamie’s cheek, longing, she knew, for one more touch, but reluctant to disrupt the nap.

  He was such a good father.

  Then he looked up. For one second, their eyes tangled in the mirror. And even though she knew she shouldn’t, knew it was probably the worst thing to do, she said it anyway.

  “I love you.”

  His eyes widened, then closed, fast. He turned his face away from her, just like a child refusing comfort.

  He opened the car door.

  “I know,” he said softly.

  And then he was gone.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  “BOONE, WHAT THE hell are you doing?”

  He dragged his attention from the computer screen to Jill, framed in the office door. Behind her he spotted flashes of color and heard the unmistakable cries of kids running past. He swiveled slightly in his chair to follow their path as they flitted from side to side down the road, chasing and laughing and reveling in life.

  Enjoy it while you can, kids.

  In the doorway, Jill tapped her foot and gave him the over-the-glasses glare she had perfected over decades of herding jackasses like him.

  “I know you heard me,” she said. “Your ears might have got plugged up on the plane, but you’ve been back a solid week now, so I know there’s something else clogging your head. Not to mention that’s the fifth time I’ve walked through here and seen you staring at the same game of FreeCell.” She shook her head as she walked to her own desk. “If you’re going to slack off, just leave for your place and do it right. I have plenty to do in here without needing to babysit you.”

  “Don’t sweet-talk me too much, Jill. It’ll go straight to my head.”

  “You’re such a pain in the arse.”

  It felt good to have her berating him again. He’d learned long ago that the only time he needed to worry with Jill was when she wasn’t giving him hell.

  “I’ll leave soon. But the Wi-Fi at my place was spotty this morning, and it’s Saturday, so I need to—”

  “Oh, that’s right.” Jill checked the clock. “You need to call Jamie.”

  The dread that had filled him from the moment he opened his eyes this morning multiplied faster than rabbits in spring. “Yeah.”

  “Can you give me five minutes?” she asked. “I just want to find a couple of files. I’ll take them back to my place and put a sign on the door so you can have privacy.” Her eyes met his and softened. “Unless you’d rather have company.”

  Would he? Oh, hell, yes. He was pretty sure that this call was going to be as rough as the whole drive from Comeback Cove to the airport. Or the never-ending time waiting for his flight, when he knew that all he had to do was make one fast call and everything could turn around. Or that whole last week when every waking moment, and most of his sleeping ones as well, was spent drowning in the awareness of what he had lost. Which was nothing compared to what he would have lost if Kate hadn’t been there.

  You’ve lived through worse, he told himself. It was what he’d always said.

  The difference was that this time he didn’t believe it.

  “I’ll be okay,” he told Jill. He would survive this call. And the next one, and the one after that, until they became more joy than torture once again. “But thanks for the offer.”

  “No need for thanks,” she said with something closer to her usual briskness. “I’m just dying to get another look at that little cutie of yours. You haven’t been flashing near as many pictures as I’d like since you got back.”

  “Trying not to be an obnoxious father.”

  “Good Lord, Boone. Like anyone could ever get bent out of shape over a man in love with his child.”

  He didn’t like the way she looked at him when she said that. It made him feel like he was back in her grade nine algebra class, trying to convince her that he’d done his homework but simply forgot to hand it in.

  Craig had welcomed Boone back with a hearty back slap and carried on as always, but Jill had been giving him the eye since he walked into the office. If he didn’t do something to convince her he was okay soon, she was going to start asking questions he didn’t want to answer. Either that or she would bypass him and talk directly to Kate.

  That could not be allowed to happen.

  “Here.” He pulled his phone from his pocket, opened the photo gallery and handed it to her. “There’s about fourteen thousand shots of Jamie on this. Knock yourself out.”

  He turned back to his laptop, trying to shut out the comments and coos coming from behind him. Email. He would check his email. So what that he had already checked it eight times in the last hour? So what that, once again, there had been nothing from Kate other than the usual brief rundown of Jamie’s day, accompanied by a new shot of him being adorable?

  It was better for everyone this way. He was here, doing what he knew he could do best. Jamie was growing and thriving and surrounded by enough love that it didn’t matter that his father wasn’t physically present. And Kate—well, she might believe that she loved Boone, but time would help. Now that he was gone she could get back to her regular life. Her safe life. Allie was moving in soon and Kate could watch her and Cash navigating their way to a family, and Kate would remember what she really wanted.

  Maybe Boone should email Eric from the hardware store, the one who had gone to school with Kate. He’d been awfully interested in how she was doing. Boone suspected that if asked, old Eric would be more than happy to deliver something to Kate, or give her some advice on finishing the jobs Boone hadn’t been able to get through. Eric would know how to patch the holes and smooth off the rough edges and make sure everything was the way it should be. And when the jobs were done, Eric would still be there, in Comeback Cove, part of Kate’s regular world.

  Yeah. That might be a good thing. And maybe, in about fifty years, Boone would find the strength to do it.

  “Here you go.”

  With a start, he realized Jill was at his elbow, holding his phone out to him while he sat there like a zombie in front of his screen. He really needed to get a grip.

  But even as he thought it, he knew he was screwed. Because the only way he could pull himself together was by getting a grip on the only two things that mattered.

  Jamie. And Kate.

  “I’ll get out of your way now,” Jill said quietly. H
e nodded his thanks. She slipped out the door and closed it firmly behind her, leaving him alone.

  After a lifetime of being on the empty side of a door, Boone should have been used to it.

  Yeah. He really should.

  * * *

  KATE SETTLED JAMIE on her lap, hit the button to start the Skype call and pulled up the smile she’d been practicing all morning. She could do this. Fifteen, twenty minutes, and this first sort of contact would be behind her, and then she could breathe again. She had her list of things to tell Boone, all about the new tooth coming in and that they had started tasting vegetables, and that Jamie had figured out how to sit up by himself and grab the stuffed alpaca Boone had given him. Jamie was wearing his cutest shirt and Kate had combed her hair and brushed her teeth—total win—so she was as ready as she would ever be.

  She would be fine.

  “Hi there.” Boone’s voice came through first, meaning she had one millisecond to catch her breath at the arrow of longing that hit her straight in the heart before the video portion of the call kicked in and she had to put on her happy face. “Hi, Jamie!”

  On her lap, Jamie’s head swiveled back and forth. Searching.

  You’re not the only one, sweetie.

  “Hi.” Crap. She had never felt this awkward before, like no matter what she said, it would be the wrong thing.

  Though maybe that was because there was nothing right about this situation. All of it was wrong. They should be—okay, not together in the same house, but together in intention, in their hearts, in love. As wrong as the situation had felt when she was waiting for the lawyer, this was infinitely worse.

  “Well.” She sat up straighter and brightened her smile. “We’ve had a busy week around here. Did I tell you that someone has learned that he can screech? Like, really loud?”

  She chattered on, glancing at her notes as needed, keeping it all about Jamie. She was doing this for Jamie. Her heart might have been ripped out of her chest but her little boy still deserved to know his father, and she would make that happen, damn it.

  Jamie, however, seemed to have other ideas. He twisted around on her lap and stared at the door.

  “Look, Jamiekins.” She tapped the monitor. “There’s Daddy, right there. See? He’s waving at you.”

  Boone waved obligingly. Jamie’s lower lip stuck out.

  No. Not more tears, not now.

  Boone must have seen the oncoming threat as well, for he leaned forward in his chair. “It’s okay, buddy. I miss you, too.”

  Oh, sure. He misses Jamie.

  She blinked, not sure where that had come from. She wanted Boone and Jamie to love each other. She wanted them to look forward to visits, to cherish their time together.

  It seemed there was a part of her that was too weary and bruised to remember those conditions didn’t have to apply to her, as well.

  Jamie slapped the monitor. Kate pulled his hand back but not before Boone’s hand had also come up to press against his screen.

  “I got the official invitation to the presentation,” she blurted out, desperate to say something, anything, before reality caught up with her again.

  “What presen—oh.” Boone’s expression flipped from curious to closed faster than the sign on an ice cream shop at the end of the hottest day of summer. Too late, she remembered that Boone wouldn’t want to know about the ceremony to officially present the White House silver to the American ambassador. In Boone’s mind, that was nothing but another sign of his inability to be the kind of father Jamie deserved.

  “Right. Well. Allie brought another load over yesterday.” That was better. “Her landlady still refuses to believe she’s leaving and keeps offering her new deals. I think the only thing that’s left would be for her to pay Allie to stay.”

  “She’s moving in at the end of the month, right?”

  Oh, he was good. No one watching would have any idea that he already knew all of this, that he had been in the kitchen with her and Allie as they’d talked about what would come to Kate’s and what would go to Cash’s and what might need to be—God forbid—stored in Maggie’s garage.

  “That’s right. We’re looking forward to that, aren’t we, Jamiekins?”

  And she was. Once Allie was here, things would be better. There would be another adult on hand to simplify showers and dishes and laundry. The house wouldn’t echo the way it did. There would be a new person using the upstairs bathroom, so Kate would have to put out fresh towels to replace the ones she found herself crying into often.

  “Well.” Boone’s smile seemed almost as fake as hers. “Sounds like everything’s rolling along pretty smoothly there.”

  Jamie whimpered. Kate steeled herself.

  “Absolutely,” she said with all the fake cheer she could muster. “Everything is just fine.”

  * * *

  IN THE MIDDLE of his second week back, Boone found an unexpected email in his inbox.

  Ian North... Cash’s brother... Northstar Foundation...

  That was right. Cash had said something about his brother heading up the charitable arm of the family business. He had said something about getting Boone and this brother, Ian, together, but nothing had happened.

  Looked like Cash had mentioned Boone and Sonqo anyway. Nothing wrong with that.

  Expanding...looking for field operative...equal parts Canada and travel...salary...

  Boone stopped breathing.

  He checked the salary again.

  He did a mental calculation of how many heating bills it could cover, even for a house as needy as Kate’s.

  Boone had never been hit by lightning. But he wouldn’t be surprised if it felt a lot like the jittery sensation that had him all but jumping from his seat to prowl the edges of the office.

  Jill paused in the middle of a line in the flow chart she was preparing for an upcoming seminar and took in his actions.

  “Ants in your pants?”

  Her voice brought him back to reality. What was he thinking? He belonged here. If Ian had been talking something part-time, something that could be done from Peru...but no. This was a full-time position. And it wasn’t even a real offer, just an email to let him know about it and invite him to apply.

  A job like that would get hundreds of applicants. Boone wouldn’t stand a chance.

  “Whatever is going on in that twisted mind of yours, it certainly seems to be interesting,” Jill said. “Because I swear you just zipped through every emotion in the human experience in about thirty seconds flat.”

  He couldn’t tell her. He wasn’t going to apply, and even if he did, he wouldn’t get it. So why make her think that he might be leaving? He couldn’t leave. This was his life.

  Even if it didn’t feel as alive as it once had.

  “Interesting email,” he said.

  “From Kate?”

  “Of course not.” Jill knew that he got the Jamie report at the end of each day. Why would she think anything had changed?

  “Oh.” She waited.

  He didn’t offer.

  She turned back to her flow chart.

  He resumed pacing. Once around the desk...twice, with a stop to refill his coffee en route...three times, with ideas and options and what-ifs dancing through his head...

  “Boone?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you going to tell me what’s bothering you, or are you going to haul your restless arse out of here so I can concentrate?”

  Mierda.

  He headed for the door. His hand was on the knob when she said, “Running away never solved anything, Boone.”

  Well, that stopped him in his tracks.

  “I’m not running anywhere. I’m leaving so you can do your...”

  His voice trailed off, withered by the glare she was sending his way.

  “Don’t you dare insu
lt either of us by pretending you don’t know what I’m talking about,” she said softly.

  He let go of the doorknob. The mask of bravado he’d been wearing since he came back slipped away and he sagged, every bit of him, like a tent when the frame had been removed.

  Jill set her marker on the desk.

  “Boone.” She spoke gently. “I know you love this place. I have seen how much you’ve poured into it over the years, and I know how much you have given it, and us. But do you honestly believe that we want you here at the expense of your own family?”

  The last thing he needed was for Jill to start badgering him about what was going on.

  “We’re not a family,” he said. “Not a real one. So don’t—”

  “And where in the hell did you come up with that idea?”

  Okay, that was definitely not the response he’d expected.

  “Jamie is your son. Kate is your wife. Tell me how that doesn’t make a family.”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe because I’m here and they’re there? Or because the divorce has been started? Or because—”

  “Because you’re too chickenshit to try for real?”

  He wasn’t sure where this conversation was coming from, but one thing was certain: he didn’t like it.

  “The email wasn’t from Kate, okay? So don’t waste your energy coming up with fairy tales about—about any of that.”

  Jill watched him, her eyes unreadable behind her glasses. At last she nodded, slowly, like she had been deliberating and then come to a decision.

  “You’re fired.”

  He went numb. No. More than that. He clearly and distinctly felt himself step outside his body. He stood off to the side, keeping himself safe from harm while a piece of his life splintered and died. And the strangest part, other than the fact that he was watching it all from an oddly removed distance, was that he knew this feeling. He hadn’t lived it since he was a kid, but oh, God, he’d lived it enough times then for it to be carved into his very core.