He studied his juice bottle carefully. “I don’t know yet.”
Jenny turned from the peeling, and leaned her hip against the counter. She studied the boy for a minute, but he didn’t seem upset or even concerned about Hero Day. “Well, I think it’s decision time. Tomorrow is the big day, after all. We won’t have time to go to a store before school in the morning.”
“It’s okay. I’ll just wear something from here.”
Jenny ruffled Frankie’s hair, then returned to the counter and the potatoes. “Just let me know. The stores won’t close until about eight.”
The boys continued talking, with Frankie explaining how the homecoming parade worked, and the assembly beforehand. It had been too long since the two of them had talked in the kitchen while she prepped dinner. Hearing their childish voices was nice. Knowing that Adam was just outside was even better.
She could live like this. Could build a life around these three men. Work was going well; she’d sent the contracts off to the distributor last week, and the first house with the Joplin builder would begin after the Christmas holidays. Plenty of time to build up their stock and get the new hires trained. Then there was Adam, who seemed to be returning to his old self more every day.
Scratch that. Not his old self. The old Adam didn’t invite her to the Slope, didn’t send her a green plant for her office. The old Adam had left the fence materials languishing in the backyard for more than six months.
Frankie tugged on her T-shirt, bringing her back to the kitchen. Garrett had disappeared.
“I need my football stuff from the garage.”
“What for? You don’t have a game until next week.”
“We’re supposed to take everything to school. For a fitting. Or something.”
“And you need it tomorrow?”
Frankie nodded.
“I’ll get it down in a minute, okay?”
He nodded again, then hurried out of the house. She heard the back door slam shut behind him. Jenny put the meat loaf in the oven, then set the potatoes in the pan to boil before going into the garage.
After digging the football things out of the attic when practices began in August, Jenny had put the shoulder pads and other gear in one of Adam’s old duffels and hung it on a peg. She grabbed the bag now and set it on the floor of the laundry room so Frankie could go through it later, then opened the door to the backyard.
Aiden and Adam sat at the patio table, talking, with Sheba at Adam’s feet, while Garrett ran around making airplane noises and randomly holding out his right hand in what looked like an Iron Man gesture. Practicing for tomorrow, no doubt.
The lowering sun was turning the tops of the trees surrounding the lake to fire. Water gently lapped against the shore, and in the distance, a fishing boat motored past. This was the backyard she had dreamed about. The ground around the newly installed fence would need replanting in the spring, but the rosebushes bloomed red and green, and the chrysanthemums were beginning to flower. Leaves on the red maple in the corner would begin turning in another week or so.
She crossed her arms over her chest and joined the men at the table. “Dinner in about an hour. You staying?” she asked Aiden.
“What’s on the menu?”
“Meat loaf, mashed potatoes and green beans.”
“With bacon bits?”
“Is there any other way to cook green beans?”
“I’m staying.”
Jenny grinned. “Have you seen Frankie? He came out here a few minutes ago.”
Adam shook his head, but didn’t seem concerned that their eight-year-old was nowhere to be found in the yard. Jenny frowned. The fence was supposed to make corralling the boys easier.
“Probably went around front. Hey, what do you think about running the ad starting next week? Now that we have the first contract with the builder, we need to get started on the hiring.”
“Sure.” Jenny was only half listening to Adam as he continued talking to Aiden about the changes at Buchanan’s. Where had Frankie gone? She remembered hearing the back door slam. Then she went to the garage. He could have come back inside then, but she should have heard the door. Unless he went out the gate and...where? To a friend’s house? To the beach on the other side of the fence? “He wouldn’t have gone to the beach, would he? It’s too cool for wading.”
“The gate’s locked. He’s probably in the front yard. He said something about uniforms.” Adam continued talking to Aiden about contacting the college in the next town to see about placing an ad in their student paper or contacting one of the professors in the design department. He didn’t seem concerned about Frankie at all. Typical.
And getting mad at Adam, who was in the backyard with their other son, wouldn’t solve this problem.
Jenny fisted her hands. It was okay, Frankie wasn’t the type of kid to just wander off, but he did sometimes get distracted. It was possible he’d gone to the garage for his football stuff on his own. But she’d been there, in the garage, then in the kitchen. She’d have seen or heard him. Jenny pushed back at the panic beginning to clog her throat.
Just then, the side gate opened and Frankie ambled through. Relief washed over Jenny, while Adam and Aiden continued talking as if she hadn’t just been mentally going through the process of calling the police to search for the little boy.
“Where have you been?”
Frankie blinked at her and a guilty expression crossed his face. “Just, ah, walking.”
“You’re supposed to tell us when you leave the yard.”
“Sorry.” But he seemed more annoyed that he’d been caught than sorry he hadn’t followed the rule about leaving the yard. “Did you get my stuff?”
“Yes. Why didn’t you tell me or your dad where you were going?”
“Because I wasn’t going to be gone long.” The answer was reasonable, if totally and completely wrong. Time wasn’t the point. Not knowing where her son might be was the point. It also didn’t explain that guilty look on his face a moment ago.
“In the future, no matter how long you’re going to be gone, you need to tell us you’re leaving.” Jenny pointed to the door. “Inside. You can help me set the table.”
“Mo-om,” Frankie said, drawing out the word.
“Listen to your mother, Frankie. You know how you like to know where we are? Same goes for us about you,” Adam said, his voice firm but kind.
Jenny stared at Adam. She couldn’t remember him ever correcting either of the boys, not even in agreement with her. She smiled at him and mouthed “Thank you.” Adam shrugged, as if his standing by her was not a big deal. But it was. To Jenny, it was everything. More than his sending the right flowers or backing up her decisions at work or trading in the old Mustang for the new SUV. Those were things he did because she told him what she wanted. This was Adam being a parent to their child, and she loved him for it.
Frankie frowned, but didn’t say anything more before stomping inside.
The door slammed behind him, and Adam reached out, touching his hand to hers. “Is he going to be mad at us for long?”
She shook her head, grinning at him. “He’ll be over it by dinner. Even if he isn’t, it’s not always our job to be their friends.”
“I know,” Adam said sheepishly.
“Have Garrett come in to wash up in a little while, okay?” She went inside, to find Frankie sitting at the kitchen table with his chin in his hands. “Hey, sport,” she said, ruffling his soft brown hair as she passed.
“Hey.”
“I brought your football stuff inside.” She handed plates to him, then checked the potatoes while he set them around the table. Jenny opened a can of green beans, added a few bacon bits to them, then set them on the stove to heat. “You want to tell me why you left the yard?” She glanced at Frankie, who set his mouth in a hard line. “It’s not
that I don’t think you can take care of yourself. It’s that when I know where you are, if there is ever a problem I can get to you quickly.”
“I just walked over to Mrs. Hess’s house. She has a new puppy,” he said. “She’s just across the street. I’m not a baby,” he added, in a mumble.
“Mrs. Hess likes it when you visit, but I still need to know where you are.” Jenny handed him napkins, and he placed them beside the plates while she laid out the flatware. “I worry about you, you know. And Garrett.”
“And Dad?”
Jenny nodded. “Yeah, I worry about Dad, too.”
“He’s better now.”
“He is, but I still worry.”
“Because he can have another seizure?”
Because of the seizures, because of that dark place he’d been living in. Because, although she liked the man she was now getting to know, she still felt as if the man was more of a myth than a real person. And that was on her. She had to start trusting him again. If she didn’t, no matter how many changes he made to his life or she made to hers, it wouldn’t be enough for them.
“I worry about Dad because I love him. Just like I worry about you because I love you. And Garrett and your grandparents. Love means putting someone else’s safety and needs above your own.”
“And that’s why I have to tell you when I go see Mrs. Hess?”
“Yeah. That’s why. Just like that’s why I let you know where I’ll be every night. So you don’t have to worry.”
The timer for the potatoes went off. Jenny dumped them into a colander to drain, then into a bowl to mix with milk and butter. She gave the beans a stir while she waited for the hot potatoes to melt some of the butter.
“I don’t want you to worry.”
She turned. Frankie had shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans and was scuffing the toe of his sneaker against the floor.
“I know.”
“I didn’t mean it.”
“I know that, too. Tell you what. You have my permission to visit Mrs. Hess and her puppy anytime you want. You just need to let me know where you’re going first. Okay?”
He nodded.
“Why don’t you go wash your hands before dinner?”
Frankie nodded once more before disappearing upstairs.
A few minutes later, the five of them sat around the kitchen table, talking and eating. Adam and Aiden were discussing the football team’s chances at the homecoming game the next night, while Garrett chattered on about the merits of Iron Man versus a firefighter. Frankie seemed content to let his younger brother take the conversational lead. No one spoke to Jenny, but it didn’t matter. This was her family.
She wasn’t alone.
* * *
ADAM’S ALARM CLOCK BUZZED, waking him from a deep sleep. He turned over, slapping at the clock on the nightstand in the RV. The night before, after Aiden left and they got the boys down for the night, he’d been tempted to ask Jenny if he could stay in the house. But he wanted her to make that move.
Returning to the house, to their bedroom, on a full-time basis needed to come from her. God, he hoped it came from her soon.
Adam sat up, stretching out the kinks in his back from sleeping on the slightly too short mattress. When Nancy had outfitted the trailer, she’d customized it for herself and Owen, not Adam. He stretched his hands over his head, pulled a clean T-shirt on and walked to the house and inside. Jenny stood in the kitchen, making pancakes. Adam slid his arms around her waist, kissing her neck.
“Good morning,” he said, his mouth enjoying the feel of her soft skin. Jenny chuckled, put her hand over his and leaned against him for a minute.
“Good morning. Ready for the craziness of a dress-up-day Friday?”
The sound of the boys’ footsteps clattered against the hardwood stairs. “Can’t be much different from any other Friday, can it?”
“You have no idea.”
“I have to go see Mrs. Hess, Mom,” Frankie yelled, and before Jenny could react, the door slammed behind him.
“Well, he did tell you before he went.”
“Mrs. Hess has a new puppy. We’re going to have to revisit that ‘any time you want to go see the puppy’ thing.”
Garrett reached the kitchen, the plastic of his Iron Man suit scraping with each step. The little boy held out his right hand. “Pancakes,” he said, his voice sounding hollow as it came from behind the mask. “Please,” he added, before continuing to the kitchen table.
“Do you want syrup or peanut butter?” Jenny asked, setting a plate of dollar-size pancakes before him.
“Syrup.”
She returned to the counter, craning her neck. Adam couldn’t see the little boy, but he did hear Jenny’s slight intake of breath.
“Everything okay?” He pushed past her, but saw just a flash of what looked like a little boy and small dog before the gate to the backyard closed behind Frankie.
“Everything is fine,” Jenny said, but she looked at something behind him as she spoke. Adam wasn’t sure what that was about. At least the kid was back and breakfast could go on without interruption.
Adam turned from the counter and stopped dead.
Frankie stood in the doorway. He wore his football pants, tennis shoes and shoulder pads, but instead of the jersey for his Saturday league, he wore Adam’s old jersey from high school. The numbers were a bit ragged from the wear and tear of the games, and there was a small rip in one shoulder. Adam couldn’t remember how the tear happened, but seeing the jersey brought back a host of other memories. How it had felt to make a touchdown-saving tackle. The dread of two-a-day practices in August. The thrill of running through whatever sign the cheerleaders made for that first Friday night game. The sadness in watching his best friends raise the state championship trophy while he stood on the sidelines because of the injury to his neck.
That jersey wasn’t him anymore.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m, um, ready for breakfast,” Frankie said, practically hugging the doorway instead of coming into the kitchen.
“Syrup or peanut butter?” Jenny asked, the words sounding too chirpy to Adam’s ears. Like she was trying too hard to be happy. If it was this hard for him to see Frankie in the old jersey, how much harder would it be for her?
Because she’d lost the man who wore the old thing, too. The man who could take care of her, who had a purpose to his life. Who wasn’t sidelined, permanently, from life.
“Peanut butter,” Frankie said, but he didn’t come into the kitchen, even when Jenny set the plate of pancakes at his usual seat.
“Why are you wearing that?” Adam was still trying to wrap his mind around why Frankie had his old jersey on. What did an old football rag have to do with Hero Day?
Jenny put her hand on Adam’s shoulder and squeezed, as if urging him to do something. Sit down and have breakfast? He wasn’t hungry. In fact, he felt like he might vomit. Frankie needed to take the old jersey off. Now.
“I, um, it’s Hero Day.” Frankie’s voice was quiet and he still hadn’t moved from the doorway.
“Heroes save people. Like Iron Man,” Garrett added.
For the life of him, Adam couldn’t figure out how his old football jersey equated to saving people. All it represented was an old football season and Jenny’s packing abilities. The thing should be moth-eaten by now.
Jenny picked up the backpack that had been hanging from Frankie’s seat. She pulled a folder from inside and handed him a piece of folded-up paper. The words My Dad in Frankie’s handwriting made his heart stutter in his chest.
Adam looked at his son, who had taken one step into the kitchen. His left hand remained behind the door jamb, though, as if he was ready to bolt. Adam read the few lines on the page, then swallowed.
“I remembe
r this day. It was last summer.”
Frankie nodded. “It was before,” he said, and his gruff voice was barely more than a whisper.
“Cutting my hand on a band saw doesn’t make me a hero, Frankie.”
“You were trying to save us. When you were hurt, you were trying to save us.” Frankie took another step into the room, and Adam saw the leash twisted around his hand. “Mrs. Hess got a puppy.”
The little yellow puppy yipped as it stepped into the kitchen behind Frankie, drawing Sheba’s attention. The older dog focused on the younger, but didn’t move from her position beside Adam.
“You’re his hero, Adam,” Jenny said, squeezing his hand in hers.
It was as if his heart squeezed in unison with Jenny’s hand, and it hurt to breathe. Adam watched the words on the creased paper blur.
“But I didn’t save you,” he said.
“But you would have. You ran into that building because you thought the boys were inside. You thought other children were inside.”
“I want to be like you,” Frankie said. “A hero like you.”
Adam couldn’t find any words that would make sense of what he was seeing. His youngest son happily pouring more syrup over his pancakes, wearing an Iron Man costume. His other son looking miserable, holding the leash of a puppy while wearing Adam’s old football uniform. A puppy that looked like a miniature version of his service dog. A son who wanted to be like him, despite the fact that he was no longer the fun, football-playing dad. Despite the fact that he might never be the fun dad again.
Frankie wanted to be like him.
“Is this why you disappeared yesterday afternoon?” Jenny asked, and Frankie nodded.
“I thought about using one of Garrett’s stuffed animals, but then I’d have to carry it. Dad doesn’t carry Sheba. She’s a working dog. Mrs. Hess said it was okay, so can I bring him as part of my dress-up day?”
“Unless the school objects, I’m okay with it,” Jenny said.
Adam swallowed hard. “It’s, ah, okay with me, too,” he said. The words sounded hoarse to him.
God, what had he done to deserve a kid like this? Adam let the paper drop to the floor, stepped forward and enfolded him in a hug.
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