Eric sat up and wiped off his shirt, grimacing at the drool.
Petra stifled a laugh. His expression was priceless. Kinley raised her head, and even though she wasn't sure what was going on, she laughed, too. It wasn't long until Eric joined in.
"Robin asked about tonight," Eric said out of left field.
"Tonight?" She had to think about it. "Oh!" Ice skating at the rink. That's right. With everything going on and Kinley having that fever spike, she'd forgotten.
"Yeah. She called me because I told Jonas I wanted to apologize to her. I thought you had her check up on me." He made a face.
"I thought it a little odd that she asked me for you number, and I think I did enough checking in on my own, but it wasn't because I didn't think you could handle it."
Kinley finally woke up fully, and she glanced between the two of them. Petra set her down. "Go potty, Kinley." She still had to remind her at times.
"Kay, Mommy." She darted off to the bathroom.
"I guess we'll play the next few hours by ear. If she seems to be better, I don't see why she can't go for a little while tonight." Petra stared off in the direction of the bathroom before turning her full attention to Eric.
"Can I ask you something?" He said, averting his gaze.
"Didn't you just?" she quipped playfully.
He laughed. "Something besides that!"
"Sure. Ask away." Petra was curious, for sure. She heard the toilet flush and Kinley singing while she washed her hands.
"Well, we've been feeling something lately. At least, I know I am." Eric fumbled over his words.
No denying, she had too. Petra nodded, waiting for him to continue. Just where was he going with this?
"Can we give us a shot? A real one, based on more than what we started off with?" He reached out and held her hands. The depths of his eyes held question.
The question she'd been pondering in her head forever now needed an answer. The what-ifs still echoed loudly in her mind.
"I want to so bad." It wasn't the best answer. It still showed she had a lot of doubt. By the look on Eric's face, he knew it, too.
"But you have your doubts," he said with a flat tone.
"Can you blame me?" she shot back. Oh, sure. Get defensive. That's the way to do it.
"Looks like your parents aren't the only ones who need convincing that I'm not the man I used to be." Eric's voice went low.
Petra hated how much he was right.
Chapter Nineteen
"Just because your blood type is a match doesn't mean you'll still be a good donor, but we can proceed with the rest of the tests." The doctor was very informative with Eric today, giving him a complete rundown of the testing, the results, and what they would mean.
Eric nodded. "I'm willing to test." He avoided his mother's eyes. He'd been asked to come in today at his first available moment because his blood type was a match. Eric was surprised to find his father still not here, which meant what? His mother was ashamed, or was his father? Did everyone still have doubts about him? It stung when Petra admitted she wasn't sure about a second chance.
Then again, when it came down to it, Eric had no right to blame her. He'd been so much of a push and shove kind of guy back then. He'd try to be better, and it barely lasted a few days. He always ended up back to drinking, which fueled his anger. Of course Petra felt vulnerable. Of course she had to really think with her head instead of her heart.
That was two days ago, and while he'd talked to her since then, that awkward tension came back, which he hated.
Then, after this appointment, he had to go to her place for dinner with her parents? Maybe he could go earlier and talk to her, clear the air so that things weren't overly weird when her family showed up. That's the last thing either of them needed. Eric really hated the idea of having to prove to anyone that he'd changed, but he got it. If this is what it took to get past it all, so be it.
"That's it for today." The doctor nodded at Eric. "We'll have the results soon and go from there."
"Thank you." He was relieved this was over. There'd been so many parts to this examination. Eric's mother was there almost the entire time, except for certain parts, and she'd hardly said a word. The doctor said goodbye, then excited the room. Eric glanced at his mother. "How is Dad?" He tried to make conversation and genuinely did want to know.
"Nervous and angry," Mom replied quietly.
"If I come by sometime, would he shut me out or see me?"
"I haven't a clue, Eric," she snapped. "I think he should see you, and you shouldn't be so afraid to make him talk to you."
"Right, so he can say more things about how I'm a failure? Because that's all I've heard from him for the past twenty something years!" he shot back. "Ever since-"
"Don't you dare bring it up! Don't you dare!" Mother burst into tears, then bolted from the room.
"What the hell?" he muttered, shaking his head.
She was already gone by the time he left the tiny room. Eric decided to leave it alone. He wasn't about to chase her and make a spectacle over it.
As he walked through the hospital to leave, Eric stopped cold at the sight before him.
Gina was here as a patient.
She had a a dark, bloodied bruise on her cheek, and her eyes were bloodshot. A nurse tended to it. Gina's eyes moved to the right, and she noticed him. "Eric! What are you doing here?"
"I was going to ask the same about you. What happened?" Did she fall? A car accident? Where was Evan?
An accident at work," she muttered, averting his gaze. "Stupid, actually."
"Where's Evan?"
"At school. My neighbor is going to pick him up if I'm not out of here before then."
"Miss, you talking isn't helping," the nurse chided, glaring at Eric.
He carefully studied Gina. That sure didn't look like a work accident. The way she averted her gaze when she said it gave him warning signals. But who would have done it?
Unless those people came back! Did this have something to do with Adrian and the people from their past?
His instinct on high alert, Eric left and drove somewhere he probably had no business going to.
The school came into his view about ten minutes later. Whatever possessed him to go, he wasn't sure. Was Evan in any kind of danger?
What did that mean for Eric?
That warning Petra had the other night about her boyfriend watching her back stuck out in his mind. Eric chalked it up to nothing, or at least tried to. Now, he wondered.
Maybe the person who hurt Gina was the man she'd been kissing at the mall the other night, which meant Eric was overreacting for nothing, at least on the part of Adrian's death and the parties responsible. Were they connected?
He wasn't taking that chance.
A few minutes later, Eric spotted Evan walking with Ben. Evan appeared really upset, and he kept looking around as if he was watching for somebody.
Ben waved at Evan when a car pulled up, and Evan ran to it. He didn't seem bothered by that, so at least Eric knew it had to be the neighbor. Ben noticed Eric sitting in the car across the street, and his face turned red. He ran across the crosswalk and stomped over to the car.
Eric rolled down the window.
Ben leaned against it. "Why do you keep watching us?" he demanded. "What do you want?"
He was all about to say what he'd seen earlier, but then stopped. That wasn't the smartest thing to do. Ben might be a wise kid, but he was still only nine. Eric couldn't just talk about Gina's 'accident' and how he thought someone was after the two, and possibly him.
But what did he say? Ben narrowed his eyes, obviously waiting for an answer.
"You were checking on Evan again, weren't you?"
Ben shook his head. A flash of hurt registered in his eyes. "You never did care when I was still your son, but you care all the time about Evan."
"Ben, I'm sorry." But the boy had it on the dot. Partly anyway. He did care about Ben. He just never did know how to show it prope
rly.
"When I was still your son."
The words haunted him. And haunted him some more.
"You should be," he replied, about to walk away.
"Please don't walk away like this. Tell me everything you feel. I want to hear it. Boy, you don't know just how sorry I am," Eric pleaded with him.
Ben whirled around. "I don't accept your sorry! It's too late." Then he headed back to the other side of the street, back to the school, as he waited for his ride. Jacob pulled up a few minutes later, and Ben disappeared inside the car.
Hurt swelled up in Eric's chest. Of course Ben hated him. Of course he didn't want to accept his apology. Every time the boy turned around, there was Eric, checking on another kid - Evan.
Yeah, he didn't blame Ben for feeling that way.
Thinking of his own father and his problems, Eric decided that's where he'd go next. He still had some time before he had to show up at Petra's. She hadn't called to cancel after the way they ended things the other night, so he'd show up as planned.
*****
An hour left until tonight's dinner. Petra pulled the oven door open, taking in the aroma of the chicken. Warmth engulfed her. It sure smelled good! Then she checked the side dishes that were simmering. Satisfied, she thoroughly doubled checked that she had her good dishes washed and that Kinley's toys were put away, or at least, not in the walking zones where someone would trip.
How would tonight go? Would her parents accept Eric's changes?
It got her thinking about the other night. He'd looked so hurt when she hesitated. Their relationship had been complicated, and in some ways still was. Their connection at first had been driven by physical need, the need to be accepted when their worlds were falling apart outside of each other.
This time around, it wasn't the case. But Eric had so much torture to his soul, and even though he'd been getting better the past two years, he still had his moments.
Was it a risk she could take? Could her heart withstand another blow?
Or maybe she should put faith in the new man. Look at what he'd done recently, especially the past few weeks. Then again, there was still that issue from the other night when they'd had unprotected sex. What if she did end up pregnant? Could Eric handle another child?
Quit playing what if over everything! Give him a chance.
"I think I will," Petra said, letting out a long sigh. She leaned against the counter, listening to the sounds of the oven and the stove.
"What, Mommy? What you say?" Kinley asked from her spot at the dinging room table. She was playing with a set of colored shapes, arranging them in different patterns.
Petra chuckled. "Nothing, baby. I was just talking to myself." And going crazy.
An hour later, she was just pulling out the chicken and setting the pan on the middle part of the stove when someone knocked on the door. Hoping that was Eric arriving first so she could clear the air with him, she dashed to open it. Mom and Dad stood on the other side, and she had to hide her disappointment. Oh well, she'd just talk to Eric later about their previous conversation. "Hey, come on in. Eric hasn't arrived yet. I just pulled the chicken out, and it's cooling. Kinley, Gramma and Grampa are here!"
When she was safely in the kitchen without someone looking over her shoulder, Petra pulled out her phone and checked for messages. Nothing so far.
Why was she so nervous about him not showing? He said he would, and if he wanted them to have a shot, then he'd show. Simple as that, right?
"They're calling for more snow again." Mom's voice brought Petra back to reality. "Another four or five inches. Winter cold front season started early this year."
"Yeah, it has." She'd hardly paid attention to the forecasts. They weren't high on the priority list lately.
"Supposed to come in tomorrow. Phoenix is expecting two inches of rain and even some snow in the higher elevations."
So, they were going to talk about the weather. Okay, at least it was conversation and not ragging on Eric. She'd take it.
"Wow," Petra said, not really caring about the rare cold weather for a city over a hundred miles south. In the background, Kinley laughed with her grandfather as they played a game.
"So where is Eric?" Mom asked pointedly.
Good question. "He should be on his way. You did get here a little early," Petra pointed out. "Give him some time, Mom."
Twenty minutes passed and no sign of Eric. No phone calls. Nothing.
He's standing me up.
Was it because she hadn't been sure? Maybe it angered him. Maybe-
The phone rang and Petra answered. "Hello?"
"Hello. I'm sorry to bother you this evening, but I'm calling to extend you a free trial offer-"
"Not interested. Take me off your list," Petra snapped and hung up. Not Eric. Damn it! Frustration zipped through her body and tensed up her muscles.
"Food's going to get cold." Mom shot her a frown. Petra noted the 'I told you so' written all over her face.
"Yes, it is. I suppose we should eat it." Anger, hurt, and questions all rolled into one hit Petra like a sucker punch to the gut. "Excuse me for a minute so I can wash up, and then I'll get to serving dinner." She pivoted and bolted from the kitchen in quick, angry motions. Once in the privacy of her bathroom, Petra dialed Eric's number. Straight to voicemail. She didn't like the sound of that. Unsure what to say when it came time to leave a message, Petra unleashed her fury. "I don't know what kind of thing you're pulling. If this is because I'm hesitant, then that's not fair. What happened, Eric? You were supposed to show! My parents have been waiting for a while. I have to serve dinner now, even if you show up late. I- You can't imagine how hurt and disappointed I am. We could have figured this out. Damn it, I- Call me when you get this."
She choked back her tears as she pocketed her phone.
*****
"What are you doing here?"
Eric held back a retort. That damn question! He'd been hearing it a lot! He stared back into the blue-gray eyes of his father and debated on backing away. Why had he come here again?
Oh yeah, to make amends. Thinking of his own biological son who hated him and had a new father role in his life, Eric figured it was high time to lay the ghosts to rest with his own father.
Maybe one day, long before it was too late, Ben would want the same thing, if he could come up with a good explanation the boy would understand without getting too grown-up complicated on him.
"I came to talk to you," Eric finally said.
"What the hell for?"
"Because you're my father, and even not showing it, well, I love you."
There. That sure threw the old man for a loop. His eyes widened, and he opened the door.
"You don't have to play the sentimental crap on me just because I'm sick. I ain't dyin', boy."
"Never said you were."
"And don't think about testin'. Your liver won't work. Not with as much as you drank yourself to a stupor."
That did it. Eric lost it.
"That's not fair. Your liver is shot because of your own drinking, Dad. The drinking you started because of your dislike for me. You blame me for Lara's death-"
"What the hell you bringing that up for?" His father's skin turned white.
"Because I've taken your hurtful words for years. I allowed myself to think I'm nothing, and it affected me in more ways than I care to admit." Eric squared his shoulders. "I was a kid, Dad. We were playing a game, and it was an accident. You blamed me as if I had something to do with it purposely. I finally told someone about it the other day, and it opened up my mind."
"You were supposed to be watching her!" his father roared.
"I took her outside and played hide and seek! How was I, at ten years old, to know she'd go run on the pond and that the ice was thin?" Eric yelled back, his shoulders and upper torso sharking with fury. "You think I ever forgot, Dad? Did you ever think maybe I blamed myself, even though it was an accident, and it would have been nice to have my parents help me through
it? No. Instead, you both distanced yourself from me. I never got to help with Cameron after that. When I was going to be a father for the first time, I couldn't get over the fear. I let down so many people because I didn't know how to get through it! I couldn't forgive myself!"
"You can't possibly be blaming me for your faults!"
Eric fumed. "No, I take responsibility for them. But they stemmed from the accident and how you and Mom acted toward me about it. I have a lot of faults, but an accident I had no control over isn't one of them."
His phone rang, interrupting the conversation. It was from a number he didn't recognize. Still shaking, Eric answered. "Hello?"
"Mr. Eric? It's me, Evan. I need your help. I'm scared. Mommy and her boyfriend are fighting and yelling." Evan was nearly in tears. "She's hurt."
Chapter Twenty
For an hour and a half, Petra listened to the 'I told you so's and the 'you can do better's. She was cordial when she walked her parents to the door and said goodbye, but once they were gone, she picked up a pillow and threw it at the door, letting out a loud cry. "Argh!"
"Mommy?" Kinley's scared voice called out. She peered at her from the couch.
"Sorry, Kinley. I just needed to get that out." Like explaining why she just threw something was going to be easily explained to a nearly three year old. Yeah, smart one.
No calls from Eric. No texts. Nothing.
She didn't want to be, but she was pissed. Hurt. Frustrated.
Maybe her earlier answer needed to be reevaluated once again.
Or maybe you should wait until you see him so he can explain himself.
Her phone rang and she answered, hoping it was Eric. It wasn't.
"So how did the dinner go?" Robin asked.
Petra held back another angry burst because she didn't want to cry. "It didn't. Eric didn't show. Mom and Dad kept giving me the 'told you so' spiel. I don't know what went wrong! Well, maybe I do. Eric asked about a second chance, and I hesitated." She sank down on the couch next to her daughter.
Tis The Season For Forgiving Page 13
