by Meg Harding
Admitting these things to a virtual stranger felt like tattling on his kid.
Cathleen was writing something down on a notepad. “I see. What kind of behavior issues are we talking about?”
Zander grimaced. “She broke some things. Hit someone when they upset her. She’s not actually hurt anyone. She can just be a bit… rude.”
“Rude,” repeated Cathleen.
All right so that maybe wasn’t the best word choice, and it was possible Zander was making excuses for her, but come on. She was his kid. “She’s very blunt about what she wants, and we’re working on her reactions to not getting it.”
“Mhm.” She wrote some more. “And how do you feel about going from being a single man to father of a four-year-old, now five?”
“I’m trying. It’s not… it’s not easy, but I love her. I’m learning as I go.” Please don’t have her taken away just because I’m clueless.
She nodded. “I’m going to do my best to help the both of you. This isn’t going to be an instant results type of deal. Consistency is going to be key. And I’m going to recommend you see someone—me or someone else, it doesn’t matter—individually. This is a big life change for you as well as Savanah.”
Well Zander knew where all his free time was going to end up going. Fucking-A. He better come out the other side of this a more emotionally mature man.
“Daddy?”
Zander finished unbuckling Savanah. “Yeah?”
“I want to play hockey.”
He froze with her halfway lifted from the seat. “What?”
“Hockey. The lady at the front desk, she was watching it. It looked fun. So fast.”
He put a hand to the back of her head so it wouldn’t hit the roof of the car. He’d been hoping he heard her wrong. “Do you even know how to skate?” He’d certainly never taken her.
“No, but I can learn.” She had a stubborn cast to her features, a jut to her jaw that let him know he wouldn’t be hearing the end of this till she got her way.
Zander sighed. “I’ll look into skating lessons for you.” He could see it now, his toothless daughter smiling as she bowled a dude over onto the ice. She’d probably lose her front teeth soon, and then he’d be able to get a preview of what he had to look forward to. He bounced her in his arms. “What do you want for dinner?”
“Pizza!”
“No need to shout.” He unlocked the door. When he set her down, she was off like a rocket for her bedroom. He took out his phone to text Cole.
I hate you.
My daughters going to be toothless.
He went to put the pizza in the oven, and when he next looked at his phone the message from Cole read ??????
Therapy = awful and now Sav wants to become a hockey player.
Cole sent back a string of laughing faces and an I don’t understand how those two things correlate, and why awful?
Can I call you? It was a Friday evening, and they wouldn’t be going on a date that weekend. They hadn’t had set in stone plans, but Cole had told him Tuesday he had family in town and wouldn’t be available.
It was dumb and Zander felt needy, but he missed Cole.
And his balls might have been turning blue.
But one did not negate the (sickly) sweetness of the other.
Sure.
Zander could hear Savanah upending her toy chest, the clatter of legos falling like rain to the floor. He’d have to be careful walking in her room. He pressed the phone next to Cole’s name and waited.
Cole picked up on the second ring. “Hey, why was therapy awful?”
Ugh, right to the point. “I don’t get how it’s supposed to help. She just talked to Savanah about her day and nothing serious, and she wants me to see someone separately.”
Cole hummed and in the background a dog barked. “I think that’s a good idea.”
Zander scowled. “I think you’re therapy happy.”
Cole snorted. “It only gets more difficult as they get older.”
“The therapists?”
“The kids, doofus,” said Cole, laughing. “These are their easy years.”
Zander was horrified. Nothing about Savanah was easy. “I refuse to believe that.”
“Doesn’t make it less true.”
Zander contemplated ending the call. Clearly Cole was not going to be on his side of things.
“Just think about it, Zander,” said Cole, tone suddenly serious. “It can’t hurt to talk to someone. They recommend it for people coming out of the military anyway.”
They did. Zander had been given a bazillion pamphlets on the subject of seeking help if needed. “All right, but no promises.”
“No promises.” There was yet more barking in the background. “So, why’s Savanah want to become a hockey player?
Zander spent the time while the pizza cooked filling Cole in on his daughter’s latest antics.
Cole’s mom came in wind-flushed and with her hair awry from an hour long spent horseback riding. He’d picked her up two days ago, and she’d looked tired and thin, but had avoided any and all prying questions Cole lobbied her way. She still looked too thin, and her appetite was nonexistent. She kept picking at the food he made, messing it around her plate to make it appear like she’d eaten more than she had. Her tiredness was, at least, now underscored by an aura of contentedness.
He was loathe to ruin it.
“Have a good ride?”
Kristy Whitaker had grown up around horses, and since she’d gotten here, she’d spent the majority of her time with Cole’s. He’d more than once caught her talking to them, telling them about her plans for the day or the weather. His babies were loving the added attention. She smiled now. “I did. Your land is so lovely. I wish I had acreage like this at home.” She was short of breath.
He finished chopping carrots for their salad. He fetched a water for her and slid it across to her. “You could buy some. Or even rent a stable, if it’s the horses you’re missing.”
She tapped her nails on the counter. “Maybe.” She reached with her other hand to scratch the top of Thor’s head as he panted beside her. “You’ve got quite the zoo.”
“I hear that a lot.” He grinned, grabbing the cutting board to slide the carrots into the salad bowl. “Have you met Haley yet? She normally comes over during the day to feed everybody outside.” Her place didn’t have room for anything considered livestock, so she’d all but adopted his as her own.
“She’s nice. I ran into her feeding the cows yesterday. I can never remember their names.”
Cole had seven cows, all rescues, and he mostly left them to wander. He didn’t see a whole lot of them, as they preferred the west end of his land, where the trees were thicker and a small pond resided. They were, unfortunately, fairly skittish thanks to their prior circumstances. Haley seemed to have a way with them, though.
“I love her,” he said, going to the fridge to grab the tomatoes. “I couldn’t have the big guys without her.” Before he’d met her, he’d had only one mare. He glanced at his mom. “Haley runs a shelter for cats and dogs when she’s not helping me. She’s got some cute furry friends if you wanted to take someone home with you.” He didn’t like the idea of his mom being all alone in her big house when she decided it was time to leave.
“Hmm.” It was her form of ‘I don’t know.’
He let it go for now. “Dinner’s almost ready.” He mixed the diced tomatoes in. “The ziti’s got another minute in the oven.”
“You know you don’t have to go all out for me.” She stopped beside him, opening the cabinet with the plates. He wanted to tell her he’d set the places, but he knew better than to fight her on it.
“I know.” He kissed her cheek while she was right there. “I want to, though.”
“You’re going to spoil me.” She disappeared into the dining room. Unlike him, she didn’t believe it was acceptable to dine at the kitchen counter. “The demon cat is on your table again!”
Cole looked down at C
asper, curled up by his feet, and shook his head, bemused. He didn’t know what his mom had against Cheshire. “He’s not a demon,” he called back. “Tell him to get down. There’s wipes for the table in the stand by the door.” Cheshire was nowhere to be seen when he brought the salad in and went back for the ziti. She’d probably chased him off to hide under the couch.
They sat across from each other to eat, Cole’s herd of babies lying around them hoping for dropped morsels.
Cole’s cell vibrated, loud against the wood, and a flick of his gaze showed the message was from Zander. They’d gotten off the phone only a few minutes before Cole’s mom came in. It shouldn’t be so endearing that Zander still wanted to talk to him.
“You can answer it.”
He guiltily looked at his mom. “You hate using phones at the table.”
She rolled her eyes. “You set it there, and this is your house. If you want to respond, then go ahead.”
Despite being in his thirties, Cole felt like this was a trap he was walking into. He slid the phone closer anyway.
SOS. I’m being forced to watch something with a talking sponge.
Cole couldn’t help it, he laughed. Spongebob?
Don’t tell me you like this shit too.
Nah, but I’ve seen it. It’s not that bad. Suck it up.
Zander sent him the middle finger emoji in return.
When Cole glanced up, his mom was staring at him. “What?”
“Who is he?” she asked in that creepy way moms had of knowing everything somehow.
“How—”
“It’s all over your face.”
What was? Instead of asking, he sighed. “So, uh, you remember Zander Brooks?” He braced for the explosion.
“Zander Brooks?” Her brows furrowed. “Why does that sound so— No!” Her eyes widened dramatically. “Cole. No.”
“I’m being careful,” he assured her. “We’re taking it slow.”
“You don’t think clearly when it comes to that boy. He devastated you last time.” She clenched her hands into fists while she spoke. “You’re too good for him.”
Yeah, he’d known she wasn’t going to take this well. Not when she’d been the one to pick up the pieces so long ago. He winced. Devastated was a strong, uncomfortable word. “Mom, he’s not a boy anymore and neither am I. We’re adults. This time is different.” He was really starting to believe that too. Zander had grown in more ways than one. “It’s not… it’s not up for discussion.”
She pursed her lips. The blush in her cheeks had turned splotchy.
He poked, maybe a little too aggressively, at the noodles on his plate. “Mom… what’s going on?”
“You’re being an idiot.”
Ouch. Cole propped his elbow on the table and rubbed at his chin. “Mom.”
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I’m sorry. You’re not an idiot.”
“Mom,” he said again.
She covered her face and mumbled something.
“I didn’t catch that.”
She parted her hands. “I have Ovarian cancer.”
Cole sat back in his chair hard enough to rock it. His stomach had dropped to somewhere around his feet. His head pulsed with panic. “No. No. You said you were fine. I asked on the phone, and you said—”
“I’m not dying,” she said, interrupting his spiral. “I’m getting treatment done, and I might have to have surgery, but the doctor says my odds are good. I wanted to tell you in person. It’s not the kind of thing you share over the phone.”
He forced himself to breathe. It felt like a monumental task, like he’d forgotten how.
“I’m going to be fine,” she said, voice firm. “Calm down. I wanted to… I don’t want to be alone through this. I want you to think about my moving here, to stay with you while I go through my treatment. I know it’s not feasible to ask you to move to me, not when you have everyone here.” There was a disapproving edge to ‘everyone’ that let him know Zander was included and he hadn’t heard the last of her thoughts on that matter.
“Of course you can stay here.”
Chapter 14
It was a bad day. Cole couldn’t put it more bluntly than that. It was the Wednesday from hell. He’d promised Zander he’d go out with him that evening because the man worked all weekend, and all Cole wanted was to go home and scream because today, well, it sucked.
He was still reeling from his mom’s news and her seemingly blasé attitude about it. He wasn’t sleeping great, consumed with worry and the vague doubt that maybe he didn’t actually know what he was doing with Zander. And then there was today. He’d awoken to the sound of Casper retching. It was on his bedspread and on the floor, on the rug in the bathroom and on the sofa pillow. Apparently Casper had done the tour of the house.
He’d left him under his mom’s watchful eye, with the vet’s number on hand should he get worse.
Then he’d gotten to school, sans breakfast and coffee and feeling nauseous from all the clean up. A headache was pounding behind his eye, Fred had called in with the flu, and the children had turned into devil spawn overnight. By noon he’d already interrupted three shouting matches, one shoving one, and he intervened before Savanah could bite off Timothy Lincoln’s fingertip as he wagged it superiorly in her face.
Cole felt like screaming.
Was it a full moon or something?
“Nap time,” he yelled over the sound of their too loud chatter. “I think we should all take naps.”
They settled down with poor grace, but eventually one by one they drifted off to sleep. Cole reveled in the silence until his text alert vibrated.
Savanah tried to bite someone??
This was probably why he shouldn’t be dating a student’s parent. He sighed. Tried to take the tip of his finger right off… to be fair, he kind of deserved it. Timothy had been lecturing Savanah on how his father had a cooler job than her’s (he was a police officer), and he’d been waving his finger in her face and nearly poking her eye out. Cole had been on the move toward them when Savanah bared her teeth and lunged forward. He’d got ahold of her just in time. I couldn’t not send her to the office, though. Sorry. He’d felt awful doing it, but he’d sent them both. He couldn’t let either of them think such behavior was acceptable.
The school had me come pick her up. I’m going to drop her off with Maria for our date. I think she’s calmer now.
Cole told himself, sternly, that he couldn’t cancel. Maybe the date would be the thing to turn his day from a wreck to a success. He rubbed at the thudding in his temple. Every few seconds, his right eye twitched.
Sounds like a plan.
“I’m going to the grocery store. What do you want for dinner?”
Cole froze in the middle of checking a spelling test. Fuck. He’d forgotten to tell his mom about his date. “Umm,” he said. “I’ve actually got a date tonight.”
He could hear her exiting the foyer and heading his way. Joy. She appeared a few seconds later, a frown twisting her expression. “With Zander?”
“He is the only person I’m dating.”
“Honey….”
After five days of her knowing and continuing to give him that look, he was starting to expect she was never going to get over this. “Mom, let it go. If I can forgive him, it’s all good.”
“You cried.”
“I cry at movies all the time. I’m just a weepy kind of dude.”
“Don’t try to pretend like that was nothing. I was there.”
It was difficult to be mad when he knew this stemmed from a place of love. She cared about him and didn’t want to see him hurt again. But he was twice the age he’d been at the time and far more mature now. It wasn’t up to her. “It sucked, all right. It was god fucking awful. Is that what you want me to say? I’m not living in a state of denial about the past. I’m giving us a second chance. A chance to fix it. He had his reasons for how things went down, and I’m not making excuses, but we’re working ourselves up to him telling me
. We’re building trust.”
He was getting well acquainted with his mother’s pinched expression. “I don’t want to have to say ‘I told you so.’”
“Believe me, I don’t want to hear you say it.”
“All right then. You be careful.” She came forward and bussed his cheek. “He hurts you again, and I’m going to end to him.”
“I’ll warn him,” said Cole solemnly. He knew she was serious. Weak from her cancer or not, she’d make Zander pay.
“You do that. If you don’t come home tonight, text me. I don’t want to wake up in the morning and wonder if you’re all right.”
His cheeks flamed. “All right.” He knew he’d always be a teenager in her eye.
She left then, and he finished what he was doing before getting ready for the mystery date. Zander had laid claim to it, saying it was his turn to pick and Cole should dress comfy casual.
For the first time, Cole was letting Zander pick him up.
Butterflies fluttered in his stomach.
As he waited for Zander to arrive, he found himself puttering around the house. Some of the curtains needed straightening and water bowls needed filling, and oh look, a cushion was on the floor instead of the couch. His pets stared at him, gazes following every move he made. After he replaced the cushion, Cheshire came along and knocked it right back to the floor.
They had a glaring match.
Cole lost.
Sighing, he once more picked it up. He pointed sternly at Cheshire. “Don’t do it again.”
His cell vibrated and I’m here flashed across the screen.
