Air Force Hero

by Weston Parker

  He never used to say “I’m starving.” He would always just say that he was hungry. But ever since Zach started hanging around, he’d started picking up on things Zach always said. Like “I’m starving,” “I have to take a leak,” or my personal favorite, “pretty girl.” Sam used this pickup line on me, and I couldn’t help but wonder if he’d try it out on girls in preschool in the fall. Part of me hoped he would, while another part of me knew I might get flack for it from oversensitive parents with no sense of humor.

  “Where’s Zach?” Sam asked after he finished setting the table.

  “He called and said he was running a bit late after work. And he had to run to his mom’s house before coming here. But he should be here any minute. And then we can eat.”

  Sam groaned and slumped over to the kitchen table where he slid into his chair and squished his cheeks in his hands while he rested his elbows on the table.

  I laughed at him. “Are you that hungry?”

  “No,” he said simply.

  “Then why the long face?”

  “I wanted to play with Zach before dinner.”

  All of my insides turned to mush, and I fought back the burn of tears. I looked away from him and pulled a bag of croutons down from my cupboard. “Well, I’m sure Zach will want to play with you after dinner. You guys can play, and maybe I’ll make a special treat?”

  He sat up straighter. “Cookies?”

  “If that’s what you want.”

  Sam nodded eagerly.

  “Okay. It’s a plan then. Now go wash your hands for dinner. I think I just heard Zach’s bike pull up.”

  Sam launched himself out of his chair, and I laughed to myself as his footsteps pounded down the hall to the bathroom. I listened as he ran the water, scrubbed his hands for the full ten seconds he was supposed to, and then turned the tap off to dry them. At that very moment, the front door opened, and Zach yelled hello.

  Sam beat me to it and cried a great, “Hi!” before hurrying to the front door to throw his arms around Zach’s legs. I poked my head out of the kitchen to look down the hall where Zach was pulling off his riding gloves and patting Sam on the back. He glanced up at me and smiled.

  “Hey, pretty girl,” he said.

  “Hey, handsome,” I said, nodding my head at the kitchen table. “You hungry?”

  “Starving.” Zach grinned, rubbing his stomach.

  “Me too!” Sam cried, now tugging on Zach’s leg to pull him down the hall. I watched them both come my way, and Zach greeted me with a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Sam hurried around us and climbed up in his seat to wait for his food.

  “You can bring your plate over here, little man,” I said. “I’ll scoop it on your plate for you, but I’m not serving you. Come on.”

  Sam took his plate, which was a bit awkward because it was huge in his hands, and carried it over. I took the lasagna out of the oven, which had only been keeping it warm until Zach arrived, and carved out a corner piece for Sam—his favorite. Then I gave him a bit of salad and told him to sit and wait for us before he ate.

  I plated mine and Zach’s dinner next, poured us each a glass of wine, and joined my son at the table. Zach sat too, right across from Sam, and the two of them stared down at their food.

  “Can we eat now?” Zach asked.

  “Of course.” I laughed. “But be careful, it might be hot.”

  We all dug in and enjoyed our meals. I sat in silence, listening to the two of them chat. Sam asked Zach a dozen questions about work, and he answered patiently while he ate.

  It felt like I was sitting with my little dream family. This was all I had wanted for so long, and to finally have it, to be sitting in the moment I had dreamed of, was the most satisfying thing I had ever felt. My son was happy. Zach was happy. I was happy.

  And the icing on the cake was that I wasn’t afraid. I didn’t doubt Zach’s word. I knew he wouldn’t leave. We’d talked a couple of times over the last week about Sam, and Zach admitted to being completely dedicated to our son. Even if he had to wait a year or more before Sam was ready to hear that Zach was his father, he was all in.

  I’d never been so happy as I had been when he said those words.

  Deciding to tell Sam that Zach was his father was a big decision. There could be repercussions. I doubted he would take it badly, but I wanted to wait a bit longer just to be sure. Maybe a few more weeks. If all were still going smoothly, I would find the right time to tell him the truth. I’d have to keep it a little PG, but I wanted Sam to understand why his father wasn’t around for the last five years.

  It wasn’t because he didn’t want to be. It was because he didn’t know he was a dad. Zach and I would have to work out the details. Zach explained that he didn’t want Sam to think that I had kept his father from him for nearly five years. I could see the reason in that. But I also didn’t want to lie to my son.

  Zach assured me we would find the right words, and we would tell him together.

  When dinner was done, Zach cleared the table with Sam’s help, loaded the dishwasher, and packed away the leftover lasagna in a Tupperware container. I joined him by the sink as Sam tugged on his pant leg, begging to play in his room.

  Zach chuckled and looked down at him. “Give me ten minutes with your mom, bud, and then you have my full attention for the rest of the night.”

  “Until bedtime,” I corrected.

  Zach nodded. “What your mom said. Go on. I’ll meet you in your room. I have something for you.” He winked.

  Sam beamed up at us and then took off for his room to no doubt set up all the toys he wanted to play with.

  I leaned against Zach’s shoulder and sighed. “This was the perfect evening. Thank you for coming over.”

  “Thank you for dinner,” Zach said.

  “You are so welcome. You go play with Zach. I’ll finish cleaning up in here. I think I’ll boil the kettle for some tea in a bit. Would you like a cup?”

  “Sure,” Zach said. Then he turned, gathered me in his arms, kissed me deeply, and squeezed my ass. I giggled when we broke apart, and he backed away down the hall. “I’ll be back. I have to grab his toy from my bike.”

  “Okay.” I laughed, pressing my fingers to my now tingling lips as I finished tidying the kitchen.

  I heard Zach come back in less than a minute later. I poked my head out, and he ducked into Sam’s room. I was curious what he had brought him, so I went down the hall and leaned against the doorframe to Sam’s room.

  Sam was sitting cross-legged in the middle of his galaxy-printed area rug. He had laid out his chemistry set and solar system model and was staring at whatever Zach had in his hands. I couldn’t see as his back was to me.

  Zach went down to his knees in front of Sam and held out a small plastic container. I peered around his shoulders to try to get a better look.

  “What is it?” Sam asked, a note of awe coloring his voice. He peered at the base of the box, eyes narrowing as he studied something small at the bottom. Small and green.

  “It’s a carnivorous plant terrarium,” Zach said, resting his hands on his knees. “It’s like a baby Venus Fly Trap.”

  “What?” Sam asked. “That’s so cool!”

  “Right?” Zach exclaimed. He sounded equally as excited as Sam—and as young. I chuckled and shook my head at them as Sam put the terrarium down and leaned over it.

  “How big do they get?” Sam asked.

  “They’re meant to live in the box, so probably not that big.” Zach held up his finger. “Maybe as tall as my finger with a mouth the size of a marble.”

  “What do they eat?”

  “Kids,” Zach teased. “Preferably kids with glasses.”

  Sam looked up sharply and then laughed when he realized this was just a joke. Then he was laughing harder, almost too hard, and I knew that he was about to have an episode all too late. His laugh turned into a wheezing breath, his eyes widened, and he clawed at his chest, trying to peel his shirt off. This was his normal reaction.
He hated feeling confined, and the feeling of the collar of his shirt around his neck made him incredibly anxious, which only increased his level of panic and made it harder to breathe.

  I rushed to get to him, but Zach beat me to it.

  He closed his massive hands over Sam’s tiny shoulders and said his name in a calm, deep voice. Sam’s eyes flicked to him and focused on him, his father, unbeknownst to him. Zach took a slow deep breath, and Sam followed. Then Zach spoke to him, keeping his voice soothing. “Sam, you’re okay. Breathe out slow with me. That’s it. Now take a deep breath. Good. You feel that beating in your chest? That hard thumping?”

  Sam nodded. His hands had fallen from his chest. There was no longer panic in his eyes.

  “Just think about that. Breathe in on every fifth thump. That’ta boy.” Zach nodded encouragingly. He waited about twenty seconds. “Okay. Is the thump slowing down?”

  Sam nodded again.

  “Good. Breathe with me now.”

  Sam followed Zach’s breathing until, all at once, he was calm again. His face regained the color it had lost in a matter of seconds, and his breathing returned to normal. Then Sam was on his feet and going to Zach to wrap his arms around his shoulders.

  Zach cradled his head and engulfed him with his thick arms.

  I stood in the doorway and cried, hoping neither of them would look at me.

  Sam already loved his father.

  33

  Zach

  It had been a long ass three months, but it was all good. We had to tell Grandpa Hart about me being Sam’s father, which went over better than we thought it would. Not only that, but Sam had to meet my mom. She melted as soon as the kid paid her some attention. I’d always heard that little people could win friends and influence people. Now I knew it was true.

  I closed the door to the master bedroom and turned to find Jo staring at me with an arched eyebrow. Her arms were crossed, and a party hat stuffed with colorful tissue at the tip didn’t make her look any less menacing.

  “So,” she said slowly. “How many moving boxes are in there?”

  I grinned sheepishly. “Only four.”

  Her eyebrow crept higher toward her hairline.

  “Okay, seven, but I’ll finish unpacking tomorrow.”

  Her composure cracked and she smiled. “It’s fine. I’m just teasing you. With all this party stuff everywhere, it doesn’t make sense to unpack anything. We’ll give the house a good cleaning tomorrow and then get the rest of your stuff put up.”

  I had officially moved in with Jo and Sam two weeks ago. I’d slowly been moving my things over from the apartment and just had a couple of boxes left of things that would most likely end up in storage. I had some military awards, uniforms, pictures, and memorabilia that Jo wanted to put on display. Besides that, it was just clothes and a few random things to deal with.

  But that would be dealt with another day. Today was Sam’s birthday—and the first one I would be at, to boot.

  Jo and I had sat him down and told him a month ago that I was his dad. Sam, in his infinite child wisdom, had nodded and said, “I thought so.”

  This baffled Jo and I, of course.

  “What do you mean, you thought so?” Jo asked.

  Sam shrugged. “I wanted him to be. So I imagined he was. And now he is.”

  My heart expanded in my chest

  Jo wrapped her arms around my shoulders and tried not to laugh. Sam, confused, slid off his seat and hugged my leg. He looked up at me, his giant eyes behind his glasses blinking at me with concern, and said, “Are you okay, Daddy?”

  I smiled as tears blurred my vision.

  Jo laughed harder. Bad thing.

  I bent down and picked up my son and held him to me fiercely. It was a hug that I knew he wouldn’t understand, but one that expressed how I felt.

  It was a hug that said I was sorry for missing out on the first five years of his life. I was sorry he had to spend so much time not knowing his father. But it also said I was ready to be there for him now and forever. He hugged me back, little hands resting at the nape of my neck, and asked if I was going to live with them.

  And now, a month later, I was living with them. Our family was together finally, and I was ready to take on all challenges, big and small, that were sure to come our way.

  Today’s challenge: throwing a birthday party for a five-year-old.

  The house was decked out in streamers and balloons. A Spiderman ice cream cake was tucked in the back of the freezer. Every surface was covered in either a red or blue dollar store tablecloth. High surfaces, that were out of reach of groping child hands, hosted adult appetizers: brie and baguette with a jalapeño jelly spread, hummus and chips, guacamole, and Caprese salad skewers.

  I felt like a parent. It was strange.

  Guests started arriving at one in the afternoon. Jo and I greeted them at the door and took their coats as their children rushed into the house and straight out to the backyard where I had surprised Sam with a bouncy castle.

  Some parents stayed to socialize, while others took advantage of responsible adults looking after their children for the afternoon and took off.

  Rosie and Ryan showed up with their arms full of gift bags. We set them down in front of the fireplace, and Ryan and I hugged as Rosie and Jo went to the kitchen to crack open some beers.

  “How’s it going?” Ryan grinned, clapping me on the back as we pulled apart. “Where’s the little monster?”

  “He’s out in the yard.” I chuckled, sliding my hands into the pockets of my jeans. I nodded at the fireplace, which was overflowing with gifts. “I always thought this was excessive nonsense to spoil a kid like this. Then I found out I had one of my own, and well, chaos ensued.”

  “How many are from you?” Ryan asked with an arched eyebrow as his gaze roamed over nearly twenty gifts.

  “Seven.”

  “Seven!” Ryan exclaimed, leaning away from me like I had contracted an infectious disease. “That’s overkill, man. Not that he doesn’t deserve it. He’s the best kid out there. But maybe save that kind of thing for Christmas?”

  “Jo said the same thing,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck. “But I guess I felt like I needed to make up for missing the last four birthdays.”

  “Fair.” Ryan shrugged. “More than fair actually. That kind of makes sense. Come on. I want to go see my nephew.”

  We went out to the backyard where Sam was bouncing in the blow-up castle alongside four of his friends from his Kindergarten class. The yard was filled with the sounds of giggles and the motor pumping continuous air into the castle.

  Ryan poked his head in and playfully tried to grab the kids’ ankles, who shrieked gleefully and bounded away from him.

  Jo came out and wrapped her hand around my waist. She rested her head on my shoulder, as she always did now, and we stood watching our son play with his friends and his immature uncle.

  Rosie came up on my other side and shook her head. “Why am I so attracted to him?”

  We laughed, and Ryan peered back at us over his shoulder. “What are you lot laughing about?”

  “Nothing,” we all said in unison.

  “Hey, Dad!” Sam waved his arms over his head at me to get my attention. He had it. “Watch this!” I watched as he leaped from corner to corner and performed what he probably thought was a flip but turned into a summersault. I applauded, cheered him on, and then coordinated a friendly competition amongst the kids over who could leap the farthest inside the bouncy castle.

  Sam won, of course. He was my son.

  * * *

  Sam was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. I kissed him on the head and tiptoed out of his room, avoiding that one squeaky floorboard under the right corner of his galaxy-printed rug so as not to wake him. I left the door open a small crack because he didn’t like the pitch dark, and I went out to the living room where Jo was pulling streamers down from the ceiling and stuffing them into a black garbage bag.

  Her hair
was curled but up in a ponytail. The afternoon had been a whirlwind, and she’d only managed to leave it down for the first hour. Her makeup wasn’t as bright and precise as it had been before the party started, and yet she still looked beautiful to me. She straightened when she caught me watching her from the hallway.

  “So that’s what a five-year-old’s birthday is like, huh?” I asked, crossing my arms and leaning one shoulder against the doorframe.

  Jo grinned and nodded and then resumed her tireless effort of tidying up. “Yep. Crazy, isn’t it? I hear it only gets worse as they get older.”

  “Leave the mess for the morning,” I said. “Let’s go to bed. It’s been a long day.”

  Jo blew a loose strand of hair out of her face. “I don’t want to wake up to a mess.”

  I went to her and took the bag out of her hands. Tossing it aside, I held her to me and kissed the tip of her nose. “I wasn’t asking.”

  “You know, you’re not the boss in this house. I am.”

  “I’m not disagreeing. But every now and then, the boss needs a break. She needs to let someone else take the reins.” I took her hand and started pulling her out of the living room, down the hall, and into our bedroom. I closed the door behind us and turned back to her.

  She was wearing jeans, as per usual, and a white T-shirt. I moved toward her and pulled her shirt over her head. She stood still, chin tilted up so she could look at me, and smiled softly when I undid her jeans.

  Soon, she was standing before me in nothing but a matching lace lingerie set.

  “Someone was already planning this, weren’t they?” I asked coyly as I rested my hand on her hip and pulled her close.

  “Maybe.”

  She worked my shirt off next. She took her time about it, pulled it over my head, and let it fall to the floor. Then she began running her fingers up my stomach, tracing the line up from my belly button to my chest. Her hands splayed out across my chest to glide over my shoulders. She hugged herself to me, and I wrapped my arms around her as we collided with a deep kiss.