Passionate Kisses

by Various

  And he didn’t come back.

  Ryan had tried to find him, but no one knew where he was. He’d been afraid to report his father missing because he and his brothers could all end up in separate foster care homes. He held their little family together for as long as he could, trying to keep up the appearance of a normal family. Finally, two weeks later, exhausted from school, the extra lawn-mowing work he’d picked up for cash, and lack of food, he’d called Gran.

  “I’ll be right there,” she’d said. And she’d been there for them ever since.

  Unlike this asshole, he thought, as he looked across the table at Jack.

  “Gran took better care of us than you ever did,” Ryan said.

  Jack winced. “I know I was no kind of father to you after…what happened, but I was there for you before. Don’t your remember all the dinners I burnt? All the time I spent playing ball with you guys on the weekends?”

  Ryan’s mind flashed to a dinner of burnt burgers. Bits and pieces of terrible meals his father had made came flooding back—dried-out chicken, burnt burgers, burnt fish sticks. He’d hated those meals. He and his brothers lived for their Friday night pizza. He’d always blamed his father for the awful food, but now he knew why he did it. Because Mom couldn’t. She’d wander around the house, snacking here and there. Her idea of a meal was giving them chocolate pudding and oranges. Which he’d loved as a young kid, but as he grew older and ate more at friends’ houses, he’d realized that wasn’t normal.

  He remembered catch in the yard with Jack too, of course he did, but the memory was such a painful contrast to Jack’s drunken abandonment that he couldn’t go there. His father had abandoned them, left them to fend for themselves. Pizza and ball could never erase that.

  Ryan fixed Jack with a level stare. “So you blame the alcohol.”

  “Alcoholism is a disease,” Jack said evenly. “I may never be cured of it, but every day I say no to alcohol.” He put a twenty on the table, took a deep breath, and looked Ryan in the eye. “Your grandmother is a wonderful woman, and I thank God you had the sense to call her when I couldn’t handle things. The thing is, she’s done raising you boys, and now is her time. She deserves a chance at happiness. We all do. I’ll admit I was worried at first. It was so sudden, and Jorge is so much—”

  “Younger,” they said at the same time.

  “I know!” Ryan said. “I told her…” He stopped himself as he realized they saw eye to eye on something.

  “You won’t have any problems from me at the wedding,” Jack said. “And I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I hope you’ll still give me a call now and then. I live about a mile from here, not far for a visit.”

  Ryan didn’t reply. He wouldn’t be visiting.

  Jack leaned forward. “This is my last apology to you. I was weak, and I failed you—something I’ll always regret—but I got help, and I got my life together. I’m sorry for any pain I’ve caused you.”

  “Did that work on Trav and Shane?” Ryan asked sharply.

  Jack narrowed his eyes. “This isn’t an act. It’s a genuine, humble apology. I’m trying to make amends. And yes, it did. It’s a start. One I hoped to make with you. But you’re the tough one, huh?”

  “Tough because I had to be.” He stood.

  Jack stood too. They were an equal height—face to face. The older man didn’t step back to let him pass. They eyed each other.

  A look of sadness passed over Jack’s face. “It’s too late. I see that now. Goodbye, Ryan. I’ll see you at the wedding; then I’ll stay out of your way.” His shoulders slumped as he headed for the door.

  Jack is pathetic.

  He watched him go.

  Aw, hell, he felt like he’d kicked a dog.

  Ryan heaved a sigh and stopped his father on the sidewalk. “It’s not too late. It’s just…not easy.”

  His father choked out a laugh. “No, it’s not easy.” He held out a hand to shake.

  Ryan looked at the hand and then back up to the face so like his own. He shook it, and his father pulled him in for a hug. They pulled apart.

  His father gave him a curt nod. “I’ll see you later, son.”

  “Goodbye,” Ryan said, feeling the rightness of getting to say what he hadn’t gotten the chance to say the last time he’d seen him. Goodbye.

  He felt like a weight he’d been carrying for years had suddenly lifted.

  He headed to his car, and his first thought was of Liz. She was the person he most wanted to see when something big happened, like Gran getting married or seeing his father after seventeen years. And if that was just as friends, he could work with that. He was used to people coming to him with their problems, always needing something. Liz wasn’t like that. She was different. Special.

  Where’s this relationship going?

  He didn’t know, but he knew he didn’t want it to end.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Ryan rang the bell at Liz’s place. A moment later, the door swung open, but it wasn’t Liz. It was her sister, Daisy, holding a screaming baby wrapped loosely in a blue blanket. She looked like she wanted to bawl herself.

  “Is Liz home?” he asked, looking behind her.

  “No.” She thrust the baby into his arms. “Congratulations, you’re an uncle. Now I’m going to tell your brother the happy news.”

  “What? Wait!”

  The door slammed behind her, and she was gone.

  He looked down at the tiny, screaming bundle in his arms. This was his nephew? Had to be Trav. Shane could never keep up with Daisy. He had no time to think too hard on that because the baby was in danger of rupturing his eardrums with his screams.

  He turned the baby and held him chest to chest, letting the baby’s head rest on his shoulder. It was like holding a floppy sack of potatoes. With powerful freaking lungs.

  He patted the baby’s back a few times. What was wrong with it? Him. What was his name again? Liz had mentioned it last week. Brian? No, Bryce.

  He patted his back a few more times. “Bryce, calm down. You hungry?” He searched the refrigerator for a bottle, popped it in the microwave for a few seconds to warm it, then turned the baby into the crook of his arm and stuck it in the wide-open screaming mouth.

  The baby sucked for a few seconds, then turned his head away. Waaa-aaaa-aaaa-hhhh!!!!

  Where was Liz? How long until Daisy got back? He paced the living room with Bryce.

  Maybe he needed a diaper change. He found a huge black bag with a lot of pockets next to the sofa. It had a plastic baby key ring toy hooked on the outside. This had to have diapers. He picked up the bag and realized he couldn’t open the zipper with Bryce in his arms. He laid the baby on the floor so he’d be safe.

  WAAA-AAA-AAA-HHH!!!! Now Bryce was really pissed. The baby shook his arms—his hands in tiny fists—and kicked his legs.

  “Okay, okay, okay,” he told him. “I just need to check the bag for a diaper.” He unzipped the bag. Bingo. He took out a tiny diaper and looked at the baby. There were a couple of tabs. Seemed simple enough.

  He picked up Bryce and laid him down on the sofa, figuring he’d like the soft cushions better than the floor. Bryce still wasn’t happy.

  “We’ll get there, little man, but you gotta help me. Give me a clue here.” Ryan unsnapped the footed pajama thing and looked in the diaper. Seemed okay. Bryce stopped screaming for a moment, and Ryan felt hope for the safety of his hearing, but it was just to catch his breath.

  WAAA-AAA-AAA-HHH!

  He tried to snap the pajamas back together quickly, but Bryce kept kicking, making things very difficult. Huh. Somehow he seemed to be missing a snap now. Part of the baby’s leg wasn’t covered, and the fabric bunched funny. He wrapped the blanket loosely around him to cover the bare leg.

  WAAA-AAA-AAA-HHH!

  What else could it be? Food, diaper, he seemed warm enough. He studied the tiny screaming person on the sofa. Bryce had worked up to a pretty good shade of red.

  Ryan mentally reviewed first
aid for a person in shock. First thing, lie them down and elevate the feet.

  He lifted the baby’s legs. PRRRRR…RRRT. Bryce let out a huge fart. The baby blinked and stopped crying.

  Ryan laughed. “That’s it? That wasn’t so bad.” He scooped up the baby and let him lean against his shoulder. Feeling more relaxed, he walked around with him, giving him the tour. First stop, the kitchen. “Here is where your Aunt Liz prepares healthy food. I’m sure you’re in for a lot of that.” He opened a cabinet, did a double take. “Here are the…alphabetized spices.” There were also clear containers with labels that looked like they were from a label maker—sugar, flour, corn starch, rice, kidney beans. He had no idea Liz was so organized. She’d have a field day with the mess that was his kitchen.

  The tour continued with Bryce looking on quietly. “Here’s the living room.” He pushed aside the curtains. “Stunning view of the parking lot. Still no Liz or Daisy, but we’ll be fine, just us men.”

  He went into the bedroom and showed him the treadmill. “An instrument of boredom. When you get old enough, we’ll run outside like men are meant to.”

  Bryce yawned.

  They continued the tour, stopping to look at framed pictures on Liz’s dresser—one of her and Daisy as kids running through a sprinkler; another with Rachel and Liz, arms around each other; one of Daisy hugely pregnant. “There’s you.” Ryan pointed at Daisy’s huge stomach.

  Bryce made no comment.

  Ryan headed to the bathroom and flipped on the light. “Here’s a mirror. Did you know you looked like this?” He turned his back so the baby could see himself.

  He was out cold.

  Ryan turned off the light and carefully walked over to the sofa. How about that? He’d gotten the little guy to sleep.

  He settled on the sofa with the remote to watch some TV while Bryce slept contentedly on his chest.

  An hour later, Bryce was still sleeping when Ryan heard the key in the door.

  ~ ~ ~

  Liz shoved open her apartment door, carrying two bags full of gifts from the Baby Boo-tique for her upcoming trip to see her nephew.

  “Hey, Liz,” a soft, deep voice called.

  “Ah!” She jumped. “Ryan? How’d you get in here?” She walked over to him and saw the baby sleeping on his chest. “Omigod, is that my nephew? Where’s Daisy?”

  “I came over to see you, and she handed me Bryce and left.” His voice was low and even.

  Liz dropped the bags and sank down on the sofa next to them. Bryce had a blue blanket around him, and he wore an adorable bumblebee pajama sleeper with a matching yellow hat. She took in the baby’s beautiful features. His mouth hung open in a deep sleep. His cheeks were rosy, a tiny button nose, little hands clutched into tiny fists.

  “He’s so beautiful,” she whispered, in awe of his tiny perfection. “I was supposed to fly out to meet him next weekend. But they’re here.” She stroked his tiny hand.

  “He’s my nephew too. Daisy said my brother is the father. I’m pretty sure she meant Trav.”

  “Wait, what?” Her voice rose in volume.

  Bryce stirred in Ryan’s arms. “Shhh…don’t wake him. His screams will make your eardrums bleed.”

  “Daisy said the father was a minor league baseball player,” she said with growing alarm.

  “Nope. He’s a landscape architect.”

  “Omigod. She lied and took the baby away from his father.”

  “Well, she’s home now.”

  “Omigod,” Liz repeated. “Did Daisy say when she was coming back to get the baby?” If she comes back. Dear Lord, please make her come back. She can’t run from her own child.

  “No, but she only left a couple hours ago at most. How long could it take to tell someone they’re a dad? They’re probably on their way back here.”

  Liz wasn’t so sure. “Did she leave diapers? Milk? Anything?”

  “I found some bottles in the fridge, and there’s a diaper bag.”

  Liz ran to the fridge to check. Two bottles. She started a list: bottles, formula, sterilizer, diapers, a crib. Maybe she could buy the stuff while Ryan stayed with the baby. She grabbed her cell and called Daisy. No answer.

  This was not good.

  She went back to the living room with her list.

  “I’m going to check on Trav,” Ryan said.

  “Oh! You’re leaving me alone with him?” For all the books Liz had read about baby care, being alone with the baby was terrifying.

  “Here,” he said, slowly rising from the sofa and transferring the warm baby to her arms. Bryce’s head leaned against her chest, and he let out a little baby sigh. “I’ll see ya.” He kissed her on the cheek and left.

  She lowered to the sofa, careful not to jostle the baby in her arms. He looked like a sleeping angel, smelled so fresh and new, felt like the sweetest, warmest weight in the world. She stroked his hand, his skin so soft.

  The possibility of having what she’d always wanted was all right here, right now, staring her down. She didn’t know if Daisy would come back. She could be on a plane to New Mexico right now. She’d been prepared to be a doting aunt, not a single mother.

  The weight of the infant grew heavier in her arms as time ticked slowly by.

  ~ ~ ~

  Ryan found Trav at Garner’s Sports Bar & Grill, sitting at the bar. Only a few guys sat at the other end of the bar, watching a soccer match on TV. It was still too early for the after-dinner crowd. A nearly empty mug of beer sat in front of Trav. If ever a man needed a drink, it was staring down fatherhood for the first time. Ryan should know, he’d been damn close to it himself.

  He took the stool next to his brother. “Trav.”

  Trav didn’t respond, merely stared into his beer.

  “How many have you had?”

  No response.

  Ryan poked him.

  “Just this one.” Trav finished it and gestured for another.

  “Let’s eat,” Ryan said, waving the bartender away. “I’m getting us a table.”

  A few minutes later, he’d maneuvered his brother into a private back booth. He ordered Trav’s favorite, a basket of cheese fries, and switched him to Coke.

  Ryan had no idea what to say to his brother, but he didn’t want him drinking himself under the table, so he stayed. Trav dropped his head in his hands.

  The waitress left the Coke and some water and quietly stepped away.

  Trav lifted his head. “She’s had nine months to tell me; then she just shows up and says he’s mine.”

  “Is he yours?”

  Trav tapped his straw on the table to remove the wrapper and drank some Coke. “She says it’s me. We hooked up one night after too many shots at this very bar. The night Sherri dumped me. Daisy was home for Thanksgiving. We talked about our exes. We drank, we got happy, same old story.”

  Ryan lowered his voice. “Didn’t you use protection?”

  Trav raised his palms. “She said she was on the pill.”

  He barely resisted smacking his brother upside the head. He’d taught both his brothers to use a condom every time no matter what their girlfriend said, but obviously he didn’t have the high horse on this one. He’d screwed it up too.

  “When I saw her back in town,” Trav said, “huge as a house, I asked her if it was me. And you know what she said?”

  He shook his head.

  “Said it was some guy on the Norwalk Tigers.” He shrugged. “I believed her.”

  “That’s why you were suddenly interested in minor league ball!”

  Trav nodded.

  Ryan considered this. “How do you know she’s telling the truth now?”

  “She was sobbing when she told me, said she didn’t want me to feel obligated.”

  Ryan arched a brow.

  The cheese fries arrived. They’d eaten half the basket when Trav said around a mouthful of fries, “Daisy said she won’t marry me.”

  Ryan froze, fry halfway to his mouth, and stared at his brother. “You asked her
to marry you?”

  “What was I supposed to do? You get someone pregnant, you marry them.”

  “No, dummy, you’re just piling one mistake on top of another. Believe me, a bad marriage doesn’t do the kids any favors. You should see my clients.”

  Trav pushed the basket of fries away. “What am I supposed to do?”

  He picked up a fry and pointed it at him. “First, you’re going to get a paternity test; then if he’s yours, you’re going to step up and give her child support.”

  Trav gripped his hair in his hands and pulled. “Okay.”

  “You’re gonna be all right, Trav.”

  His brother raised his brows, his expression hopeful. “How do you know?”

  “Because I know you, and I’ve got your back.” He raised his fist for a fist bump.

  Trav exhaled sharply and fist-bumped him. “I’m supposed to meet him tomorrow. His name is Bryce.”

  “I know,” Ryan said. “I met him. The lungs on that kid. He’s strong.”

  Trav’s eyes went wide. “You met him?”

  “Yeah, I stopped by to see Liz. Daisy handed him over while she went to tell you about him.”

  “What’s he like?”

  Ryan shrugged. “He’s like a baby. I don’t know. Cute, you know. Cries, sleeps. He took a nap on me.”

  Trav shook his head. “I can’t believe you met him before me.”

  “So you’ll meet him tomorrow. If he’s yours, you’ve got the rest of your life to get to know him.”

  Trav rubbed his temple, clearly overwhelmed.

  Ryan finished the fries and his water, and threw some bills on the table. “Let’s go.”

  Trav stood and walked zombielike for the exit. They headed down the sidewalk together in the late afternoon sunshine. The temperature had already started to cool, and a few trees sported yellow leaves announcing the upcoming fall. Trav’s house was across the street from Gran’s. They walked in silence.

  When they reached the house, Ryan stopped at the front sidewalk. “Good luck tomorrow. You’ll be fine. And get the test done on Monday.”

  Trav gave him a pained look. “Ry, I don’t think I’m cut out to be a dad. I didn’t exactly have the greatest example.”