Welcome to Forever

by Annie Rains

  “I’ll try, little man.” Micah pointed to the water. “I think you got a bite. Better reel it in.”

  Ben hurried to wind the reel backward with his good arm. The motion was uncoordinated, but Micah prayed the entire time that the fish would hold on. Just hold on. They needed this moment, this fish. Then the line lifted out of the water and there was a ten-inch bass.

  “I did it! I caught a big one!” Ben bounced, and Micah had to keep the chair from tipping over on the uneven terrain, while also reeling the line in faster before the fish flopped itself off.

  “Yes, sir. It’ll make a fine dinner. Big enough to feed a squadron, I’d say.” Micah grabbed the fish’s mouth and reached for the hook.

  “Can we show it to Grandpa?”

  Micah’s gaze narrowed. “Show it to Grandpa?”

  “You said he used to fish with you. Wouldn’t he be proud of me?”

  Micah laid the fish in a cooler of the brackish creek water and watched it flop. “I’m sure he would be, son. I know I am.” He re-baited Ben’s line and cast it again, contemplating Ben’s question and his son’s desire for his grandpa to be proud of him. Micah had that desire, too. He’d always wanted to make his dad proud. Telling him he wasn’t reenlisting wouldn’t bode well on that front. But maybe his father, commanding officer of Camp Leon and all, would surprise him if he gave him half a chance. Or disown him. Micah wouldn’t be surprised by either outcome.

  They caught two more good-sized fish, then packed things up. When they were back in the Jeep, he glanced at his son in the rearview mirror. He knew he’d regret even posing the question, but he asked anyway. “Do you want to stop by Grandpa’s and cook the fish?”

  Ben nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, Dad. Let’s do that!”

  It was the big house, Micah reasoned. Kids loved big houses. And his father had a fondness for model trains, which Ben went crazy over. He wasn’t a kid that could rampage a house. He didn’t have the motor skills for that, so his father had always been very good about letting Ben mess with the trains. That got him a lot of brownie points.

  Micah turned the vehicle south toward the water, where his father lived alone. It seemed a sad existence. He doubted his father saw it that way, though. His father enjoyed the kind of order that only living alone could provide. His mom had been a saint to keep the house’s order when she was alive. No other woman could ever live up to that.

  Micah parked and helped Ben back into his wheelchair, then got the cooler out of the back. The front door opened as they approached the front steps.

  Micah stopped and stared at him. “Hey, Dad.”

  His father smiled tightly. The older Peterson was a compact man with stern features. “I didn’t know you were stopping by,” he said in a low voice that rivaled John Wayne’s.

  “We went fishing!” Ben announced excitedly, his smile fading as he looked at the steps and turned back to Micah. He couldn’t get up, not without help.

  Micah had told his father to get a ramp a thousand times. Any other grandfather would’ve done so if they had a disabled grandchild that they expected to visit. “We thought we’d fry some fish tonight, if you’re up for company. Just like old times.”

  His father’s smile relaxed a notch. “You’re getting sentimental on me.”

  Micah’s throat constricted. “Nothing wrong with good memories.”

  “Nothing at all,” his father agreed. “Come on in. Ben, I have a new train for my set.”

  Ben was smiling again. Micah picked up the back of the chair and lifted it to the top of the steps, giving it a push to get him rolling toward the front door. When Ben was safely inside, he went back for the cooler of fish. They’d eat fish, drink a few beers, and then he’d tell the old man what he probably didn’t want to hear. He was getting out of the Marine Corps.

  He’d never intended to be a career Marine. He was landscaping for Seaside Elementary and the local cemetery already. A few other locals had contracted him as well and last week, out of nowhere, the mayor’s assistant had called to tell him that Mayor Flowers was interested in hiring him for their home. Landscaping was becoming a full-time job, and it was something he enjoyed.

  Micah stood in the doorway and watched as Ben’s face lit up. His father pushed a button on the remote control in his hand and the model train’s lights flickered on and off.

  “Let me try! Let me try!” Ben begged, taking the remote from his grandfather.

  Okay, so maybe the old man had an appreciation for happiness, too, somewhere in that icy heart of his. Maybe he’d understand.

  And maybe the Queen of England would show up for their fish fry tonight.

  Micah headed toward the kitchen to start filleting. Five minutes later, the kitchen door swung open behind him. “He okay?” Micah asked, recognizing the heavy sound of his father’s footsteps.

  “He’s with my trains. He’s fine.” His father started digging through the cabinets and pulled out some seafood seasoning. “I’m glad you came. I was beginning to wonder if you were avoiding me.”

  Micah gave a hard shake of his head. “Not avoiding you. Just doing my job.”

  “Speaking of which.” His father glanced over his shoulder at Micah.

  Micah watched from the corner of his eye, keeping his hand steady and continuing to fillet. “What?”

  “There’s a promotion with your name on it, but it would mean moving to Fort Goodman. I told Colonel Hampton you’d gladly go.”

  Micah set his knife down now, keeping his gaze low and bracing his hands on the granite countertop in front of him. “I don’t want it.”

  His father turned and leaned against the counter, folding his arms stiffly at his chest. “I know you like it here. You have that woman friend and—”

  “The answer’s no, Dad,” Micah said through tight lips.

  His father stood erectly and pointed a finger. “Don’t forget, I’m also your commanding officer. If I think this is what’s best for your career, then I can say yes and send you the damn-hell where I want to send you.”

  “You can’t force me to reenlist, though.” Micah faced him now, working hard not to smile as he said it.

  His father was as hard as a statue, revealing no emotion in his face. “You are reenlisting,” he said coldly. “You’re not just going to throw away your life over some hobby. Is that what this is about? The landscaping thing?”

  Micah shook his head. “I’m not throwing away anything. This is my life, and I’ll do with it what I want. It’s not my problem if you think it’s a waste.” He headed for the kitchen door. There was no way he was going to stick around with his father’s oversized ego filling the room. They could talk about his later, when his father had calmed down. If he ever calmed down.

  “Where are you going? You’re not leaving while I’m still talking to you,” his father barked.

  When Micah was a kid, his old man would’ve pushed him against the wall. He’d never hit him, but Colonel Peterson believed in force. Not this time. “Come on, Ben. We’ll cook our fish at home.”

  Ben’s eyes widened as his mouth fell open. “But I want to eat with Grandpa.”

  “Another time, bud. It’s our father-son day, remember?” Micah started pushing Ben’s chair forward, feeling his father’s eyes behind him, boring into the back of his skull.

  Well, that had gone as well as could be expected.

  When Ben was strapped in the Jeep, Micah got behind the wheel and started to pull away.

  “Dad?”

  Micah’s gaze flitted toward the rearview mirror. “Yeah?”

  “Grandpa looks sad.”

  They both looked at the colonel, standing on the front porch with his arms folded and his chin lifted high.

  “He doesn’t get sad, Ben.” It wasn’t in his father’s emotional repertoire. Sad would imply that the man had feelings. Nope. Micah was willing to bet that look on his father’s face was more disgust than anything.

  And he hated himself for caring. His father’s actions
never said they cared about what he wanted.

  “Dad?” Ben said again.

  Micah’s gaze lifted to the rearview again, meeting his son’s eyes. “Yeah?”

  “Thanks for taking me fishing. This was the best father-son day ever.”

  And that was all that mattered—being a good father to his own son. “It’s not over yet, buddy. Let’s go fry our fish.”

  —

  Kat yawned and considered going to bed. It’d been a long, boring Sunday, which she used to think was the best type—until a certain tall, dark, and handsome groundskeeper had come into her life. She’d missed him today, but she understood. Spending time alone with Ben was important.

  Her phone buzzed on her nightstand table, signaling a text. He must’ve been thinking about her, too. Hopefully missing her as much as she missed him. She glanced at her screen and read:

  Are you awake?

  She typed “Yes” and waited to see what he’d say next, hanging on his every word. Or she would’ve been hanging on his every word if he texted her again. The phone was quiet. No buzzing. No beeps.

  Her doorbell rang across the house and she jumped. Getting out of bed, she hurried toward the door, hoping it was Micah. She went up on her tiptoes to look through the peephole and got a rush of excitement. “Who is it?” she called, loud enough for him to hear her, teasing him. Her phone buzzed in response.

  I know you’re alone. I’ve come to take advantage of that fact.

  She giggled, preparing to open the door when her phone buzzed again.

  Don’t open the door unless you want me to take you to bed.

  Well, she had planned on going to bed. She doubted Micah had sleeping in mind, though, which was just fine with her. She opened the door and met his ready gaze.

  “I told you not to open the door unless you wanted me as much as I want you.”

  She grinned. “I know.”

  He wasted no time walking in, closing the door behind them, and scooping her up into his arms.

  Kat laughed. “What has gotten into you tonight?”

  “I told my father the good news this afternoon,” he said, his face turning serious for a moment.

  “Oh. Wow. How did he take it?” she asked, bracing her hands against his chest.

  “He didn’t.”

  She surveyed his demeanor. “Then why are you smiling?”

  “Because there are no more secrets. I want to celebrate by touching you. Is that okay?” His voice dropped to a low, sexy growl.

  “Um.” She swallowed, her entire body responding to his request. “I guess that’s okay.”

  “Good.” He placed one hand on each side of her face and gently led her mouth to his.

  If the kiss was any indication of how the “touching” was going to go, then she couldn’t wait for him to get her to bed. “Julie comes home in one hour.”

  “So we better get started,” he said, already lifting her shirt.

  She tugged his overhead also. Then she unbuttoned his jeans. Clothes fell to the floor as they made their way to the back bedroom. She lay back on the bed and he bent to kiss her navel. “No time for foreplay,” she said breathlessly. Her body had gone from zero to one million with one heated kiss.

  Micah moved upward, leveling his gaze with hers. “There is always time for foreplay, Kat.”

  One million skyrocketed to infinity.

  Then he touched her, like he promised, delivering more than he promised. She touched him, too, enjoying the way she made such a big, alpha male go weak. Loving the way his body responded to her hands and mouth. The tough guy who’d gone to war, who’d seen and done things that no one should have to, was putty beneath her.

  His body quaked and he started to pull away, but she drew him closer.

  “I can’t take it any longer,” he growled.

  “It’s okay. Stay,” she whispered, not caring about her own satisfaction. She was more than satisfied. “Stay,” she said again, arching up into him and pulling him into a deep kiss. He didn’t pull away again. This time he rocked into her harder, gaining speed until his grip finally tightened around her. He held her so tight, she wondered where her next breath would come from. But she didn’t care.

  “It’s your turn,” he whispered, relaxing into her a moment later.

  She glanced at the clock on the bedside table. “I’ll have to take a raincheck on that. Julie will be home in ten minutes,” she said, really wishing she didn’t have to kick Micah out of her bed. Waking up with him tomorrow morning would be heaven.

  “I only need five minutes,” he said, pulling one of her nipples into his mouth.

  She gasped, started to argue, but each word stuck in her throat as he continued to suck. His hand moved between her legs, moving with a rhythm that mimicked the one they’d just found together. Then, true to his word, she found herself biting her lower lip, suppressing her own cries of pleasure.

  “Damn. I’ll never tire of doing that for you.” He brushed his lips against hers and got up to collect his clothes.

  “I’m glad you came,” she said, dreamily, sitting up.

  When he grinned at her, she shook her head. “Came over,” she clarified.

  “I just couldn’t sleep without seeing you tonight.”

  “You can’t even go a day without me anymore, huh?” She pulled a T-shirt overhead, deciding that was enough to walk him to the door in.

  “I can, but I don’t want to.” He kissed her again and then groaned, pulling himself away and heading down the hallway toward the front of the house.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asked.

  “Can’t wait.” He opened the front door and they both stared at Julie, who looked between them, grinned, and continued walking inside without saying a word.

  —

  Monday morning came too fast, as it always did. The weekends were never long enough, especially when Kat had barely gotten to spend any time with Micah. The time they had spent together, however, had been quality.

  Val rapped on Kat’s office door and stepped inside without waiting for her to answer.

  “What are you smiling so cheerily about?” Kat asked, taking in her friend’s demeanor. Val looked as giddy as a child with a secret to tell. And knowing Val, she probably did.

  “Have you seen the morning paper yet?” Val asked, stepping further inside.

  Kat shook her head. She usually avoided the paper until she’d had her second cup of coffee. “What’s in there? Anything good?”

  “Oh. You know. There’s a nice write-up on Seaside Elementary, talking more about you than anything else.”

  A sick feeling usually crawled through Kat’s stomach when she heard people were talking about her, but judging by the look on Val’s face, she didn’t need to worry this time.

  Val flattened the paper in front of her. “Front page, baby.”

  Kat’s gaze sharpened on the bold letters topping the newspaper.

  Seaside’s Favorite Principal Leads the Path to Success.

  Her breath caught in her throat as she skimmed the first few paragraphs.

  The Friendship Club, created to help troubled students increase their self-esteem, is also working to care for Seaside’s local soldiers who are in need of a home-cooked meal and a show of appreciation…Principal Chandler believes every child wants to succeed. They want to do well at something, even if it’s doing well at stirring up trouble in the classroom, she says. The Friendship Club shows these children that they are capable of working together as a team to create something beautiful.

  Kat finished the article and smiled up at Val. “This is amazing.”

  “We’ll have to make sure everyone sees it,” Val agreed, glancing in the direction of Dora Burroughs’s office. Then she lifted the paper off Kat’s desk and hooked her head with a wicked grin. “No time like the present.” She winked and walked out the door, closing it behind her.

  Kat grinned ear to ear. Not that she wanted to rub her good news in anyone’s face. Much. She’d ha
ve to call and thank Mr. Todd for writing such a flattering article about the school and Friendship Club later.

  Another knock sounded on her door. This one was softer than Val’s had been. “Come in.”

  The knob turned and Ben pushed his wheelchair inside. “Hi, Principal Chandler,” he said in a sullen voice.

  “Ben.” Just seeing him made her heart squeeze. She loved that disheveled hair. And that large, toothy grin he usually wore, stretching through his freckled cheeks. He wasn’t grinning today, however. “Everything okay?” she asked.

  With his right arm, he rolled his wheelchair closer to her desk and stopped, keeping his head down.

  “Are you sick? Do you need me to call your dad?”

  He shook his head. “No. Miss Hadley sent me here.”

  “To my office?” Kat straightened as she made the connection. Ben had been sent to the principal’s office. “Oh. Well, what happened?”

  He lifted one shoulder, keeping his eyes planted on the floor.

  “Can you at least look at me?” She lowered her voice. “Please.” As he slowly lifted his head, she saw the tears shining in his eyes, and her heart nearly broke in half.

  “I’m s-sorry. Please don’t tell my dad.”

  She quickly moved around her desk, grabbing some Kleenex and crouching beside him. “Tell him what? I don’t even know why you’re here yet.”

  He sniffed, wiping quickly at his tears. “A girl in my class said that moms aren’t Marines. She said my mom didn’t really go to war, she just left me.”

  Kat sucked in a breath. “You know that’s not true, though. Your mom is a Marine.”

  “And she left me, too.” His eyes flooded over. “So I called the girl a stupid idiot.”

  “A stupid idiot? Ben, that’s not very nice.” And it wasn’t like him to call people names.

  His lips quivered. “I didn’t mean it. I was just…”

  Large tears spilled down his cheeks. Kat dabbed them gently with a tissue in her hand.

  “I just want my mom to want me,” he said. “And I don’t want her to die. And I don’t want you to leave me and my dad, either.”