“Addison—”
“What if she tried to help Cooper instead of telling us because she thought that’s what I want?”
“Addison,” Gabe said firmly. “Stop.” He knew that some of this mini meltdown was actually her emotions about Cooper and what had happened. But he also knew that Addison had some insecurities about her own parenting style. He almost laughed at that. Who the hell didn’t?
“I’m so sorry, Gabe,” Addison said softly.
“It’s not your fault. It’s not . . . it’s not Stella’s fault or Cooper’s fault,” he said, his throat tight. “It’s mine.”
“Gabe, you didn’t know,” she protested.
“Yeah, and now that I do, I still have no fucking clue how to handle this. And that makes me feel like shit.”
“So let me help you.”
“That’s not the point!” Gabe worked to lower his voice. “I have to figure this out. Of course you could do it, and do it perfectly. But Cooper needs to know that I can and will handle things for him. It’s great for him to know you care about him, too, but I’m his father. I need him to know that I’m capable of more than donating the sperm, making pancakes, and taking him to do things he doesn’t want to do because I think he should be doing them!”
Gabe stood, breathing hard, feeling his heart racing. Addison looked sad, and a little pissed, actually.
“Is it Cooper who needs to know all of that, or you?” she asked.
“Fuck,” he muttered. He shoved a hand through his hair again. “Yeah, okay, it’s me, too.”
“And you’re feeling like all of this is because you made him go on the swamp-boat tour?” Addison asked.
“It’s not like that’s the first time,” Gabe told her. “I’m always trying to get him to do stuff he doesn’t want to do. Hell, he probably thought if he told me about the day care thing, that I’d tell him what Stella did—take a flashlight and don’t be such a baby.”
Addison actually gasped softly. “Stella did not tell him that. And you would never.”
“But isn’t that essentially what we’re saying when we’re constantly telling him that he should do things like touch alligators and sit in fire trucks and try karate and any one of the other things I’ve encouraged him to do in spite of knowing he doesn’t want to?” Gabe asked. He hadn’t realized all those things were nagging at him until they came spilling out, but now he couldn’t stop. “Why can’t I just be okay with him reading and looking things up on the Internet and being interested from afar? Why is that somehow wrong and my way is right? And how can I not think that if he thought I understood him and got him and wanted him to be just exactly how he is, that he would have told me about this bullshit at day care so that I could fix it?”
Addison expression went from irritated to worried. “Gabe—”
“I didn’t even know something was wrong,” he said, his voice suddenly rough as he tried to speak around the lump in his throat.
“He’s a quiet kid,” Addison said. “He’s . . . reserved and thoughtful. It’s hard to tell if he’s worried about something or scared of something or just contemplating things.”
But Gabe was shaking his head by the time she got to the end of that. “That’s an easy excuse. Believe me, I’ve used it over and over.”
“Excuse for what?”
“For thinking things are fine.”
“Gabe, things are fine. He’s five. He’s an introvert. That doesn’t mean you’ve done something wrong.”
“Things are not fine, Addison!” Gabe felt the frustration climbing up his back and tightening his neck. He didn’t want to fight with her, but he couldn’t let this go. He couldn’t just accept that Cooper was fine and that he was a great dad and that everything would be okay. Because that was definitely what he wanted. That would definitely be the easy way to go. But fuck, parenting wasn’t supposed to be easy.
“Cooper is the one person in this world who needs me,” Gabe said. “And that freaks me out, I’ll be honest. It’s always freaked me out. I feel all the protective things toward him that a dad should, but that’s why I moved in here with my mom. That was me protecting him—from me fucking up.”
“Gabe—”
“And she’s done so much,” he went on, interrupting her again. “She helped me out when I had no idea about teething and diaper rash. But Cooper is beyond those things. Now his problems are . . . bigger.” Gabe sighed heavily. “Now Cooper needs his dad, and I have to step up. I can’t keep expecting someone else to do it all.”
“Your mom loves helping,” Addison said quietly. But her tone had changed.
He narrowed his eyes. “Of course she does. But she should be his grandmother, not his mom. Or his dad.”
Addison didn’t say anything to that.
Gabe felt his gut twist. She agreed with him. She wasn’t saying it, but she agreed that it was time for him to be the dad and take on Cooper’s needs.
“I’m right, aren’t I?” he asked. He didn’t know why, but he needed to hear her agree with him. Not because he needed confirmation that he was right. He knew he was. But because he needed to know that she understood this.
Addison swallowed.
“Addison,” Gabe said, his voice low and firm, “you agree that I’ve been taking the easy way out and it’s time to step up, don’t you?”
She squeezed her arms tighter against her stomach. “You’re a wonderful father, Gabe. Cooper knows you love him and that you’ll keep him safe no matter what. That’s all he really needs.”
“That’s not an answer,” he told her. He took a step forward. “You’re Supermom. You’re there for everything. You refuse to let other people into Stella’s life completely, knowing that you are the best person to make decisions for her. You know that no one else can take care of her the way you do.”
“I didn’t have the support system that you do,” Addison said.
“You still wouldn’t have let someone else raise her the way my mom has been with Cooper. Because you are the best one to take care of her.”
She wet her lips but didn’t respond.
“And that’s the thing, Ad. I don’t know that. I don’t know that I’m what’s best for Cooper.” Gabe heard the gruffness in his voice from the emotions swirling through him. “But I want to,” he finally said. “I really want to be the best thing for Cooper and know it.”
Addison’s eyes were filled with love. He could see that. But there was also a sadness there. “So you want to start doing this on your own now?” she finally asked.
No. Fuck no. He didn’t want to do this on his own at all. Which was the reason why he should absolutely do it. Yes, he wanted his son to have a lot of people in his life he could depend on and who would love and support him. But, hell, Cooper hadn’t told his grandmother or his uncle about any of this, either. He’d told another five-year-old he liked and trusted but who couldn’t do a damned thing about it. He needed to know that there was one person he not only liked and trusted but who could make everything right.
And Gabe would do that.
He might not always make the perfect decision. He still didn’t know if he should be encouraging Cooper to try new things or just accept him as he was or how to find a balance between the two. But he could absolutely instill the fear of God into Miss Linda and the kids who thought they could push Cooper around.
“I need to do this on my own,” he finally told Addison. “For Cooper’s sake. And for mine. I need to know that I can do that.”
Addison pressed her lips together.
“How can I ask you to let me into Stella’s life when neither of us know that I can handle even the one I have?” Gabe asked.
Her eyes flickered with concern, but she still said nothing.
“You were right, Addison,” he said. “Parenting is hard. But it’s supposed to be. Honestly, I haven’t had to work hard at much in my life. I was handed a successful business that happens to be something I enjoy a lot and that I can do with my brother who can cover wh
enever I can’t be there. I was handed a baby who I love but who I immediately brought to my mother. I haven’t had a relationship that took work beyond doling out orgasms, which is also something I enjoy doing.”
As she flinched slightly, Gabe realized that talking about his past sexual escapades—and how much he enjoyed them—had been a miscalculation. But frankly, he wasn’t capable of sorting through what was right and wrong at the moment.
“So now it’s time for me to grow the fuck up and do some of the hard stuff. I need to show Cooper that he’s worth it.” A realization dawned, and Gabe felt a surge of yes. “I’ve tried to push Cooper outside of his comfort zone, thinking that he’s missing things or that it would help him grow. But here I am, very entrenched in my comfort zone and happy about it. That’s no example for Cooper.”
Finally, Addison did speak. It was only one word. But it almost sent him to his knees.
“Okay.”
That was it. Just “okay.” But that word meant a lot of things. Mostly that she agreed with him that he needed to grow up and step up. And that he should do this on his own. Which meant that she was saying goodbye.
He nodded once. “Okay.”
Addison came toward him, lifted on tiptoe, and kissed him on his cheek.
Then she turned and headed upstairs. Two minutes later, she and Cooper were at the front door. Gabe met them there. He opened the door, and looked over to where Stella stood on the bottom step, watching them go. He felt like his heart was shredding.
But they had to go, didn’t they? If he was going to do this, really do it, he needed his crutches gone. That definitely included Addison. God, he wanted to lean on her. And he didn’t know how long it would take him to get his shit together. A very long time, probably. Considering he wasn’t sure he’d ever had his shit completely together. At least as a dad.
“Bye, Gabe,” Stella said with a sweet smile.
This little girl was his son’s best friend. The person who’d been there for him. Who he’d told his secrets to. Gabe was grateful and jealous at the same time. “Bye, sweetheart.”
He gave Addison a last, lingering look as Cooper went through the door. He could tell by Addison’s expression that she didn’t want him to go but that she understood. At least, kind of. She maybe didn’t agree with his decision to go it totally alone, but she was going to let him do it.
Because that was how she did things with Stella, too. She let her daughter explore and try things. But she was always right there in case Stella needed her.
Would she be there for Gabe if things went to hell? And would she still be there when he finally figured his shit out? He hoped so.
Chapter Eleven
“So you moved out and are living in the apartment over the bar?” Caleb asked Gabe.
They were at the support-group meeting. It had been almost a week since Addison had left him standing in the middle of his mother’s living room looking torn up and lost.
That had been the hardest thing she’d ever done. Almost everything in her had screamed at her to stay and help him. Actually, leaving while knowing that Cooper had been having a hard time had been just as difficult. She wanted to march down to that day care and yell at Miss Linda. And then shake the stuffing out of the kids who had been picking on Cooper. In fact, she’d had to talk herself out of doing just that. Twice.
But this was Gabe’s fight. Or so he believed. And he wanted to handle it.
Apparently, he’d done just that the very next morning.
Addison had never been more grateful for the support group than she was that Thursday. She’d been holding her breath to see if Gabe would show up. He’d walked in a few minutes late, and she’d been amazed by the rush of relief and love she’d felt when she’d seen him.
He looked like hell. His eyes were bloodshot, his shirt was wrinkled, and he’d been drinking coffee nonstop since coming through the door. And the group noticed. And made him talk.
“It was the easiest thing,” he said. “We needed to get out on our own, and we could move right into the apartment.”
“So Logan’s at your mom’s?” Austin asked.
“Yeah, we swapped. For now. I just wanted to get Cooper on my own so we can spend some real quality time together and I can assure him that I’m the one who’s there for him. I’ll have to get a place for us eventually, though. You can’t raise a kid above a bar, right?” He looked around the group, but his eyes skipped right over Addison.
She felt a little twinge in her heart at that. She wanted to be the one he specifically looked at. The one whose opinion mattered most. But he’d been avoiding looking at her, and Addison understood. It was painful. Painful sitting there and not going to him, wrapping her arms around him, and just holding him. She also sensed that it was painful for him to not ask for that. She really thought he wanted to, though. But not leaning on her was what he needed. Or what he thought he needed. To do it alone. To not need her or anyone else.
It was an overreaction. And she was hoping someone here would tell him that. But she had to let him do this. Just like when Stella wanted to climb to the top of the equipment at the playground. Addison had to let her try it and realize on her own that either it was too tall, it was scary that far off the ground, or that it was fine and she could get to the top on her own. Stella knew that all she had to do was ask Addison for help getting back down. She could only hope Gabe knew the same thing.
“How’s your mom taking it?” Bea, the grandmother in the group, asked.
Addison smiled at that. The group couldn’t be doing better if she’d planted the questions with them herself. She also wanted to know how Caroline was. And how Cooper was. She was grateful to know that the “meeting” with Miss Linda had gone well. The woman had been appalled and assured Gabe that she would not only be paying very close attention but that she would be talking with the kids and their parents. Addison also loved knowing that Gabe hadn’t stopped there but had gone to Linda’s supervisor as well, and that Linda was going to be facing some disciplinary measures for leaving the class unattended during quiet time.
Addison ground her teeth together and fidgeted on her chair. She had a million other questions, too, but she was hoping the group would get around to them all.
“She’s okay,” Gabe said of his mother. “Concerned about Cooper, of course. But we went over for dinner last night.” He sighed. “Haven’t expanded my culinary skills much since we’ve been living with her.”
He smiled as he said it, but Addison could tell he also felt chagrined by that truth, and again Addison wanted someone to tell him that he was being too hard on himself. So he could only make a few things for dinner. That was hardly the mark of a bad parent. Cooper just needed Gabe to love him. Period.
But that thought pricked at the back of her mind. Wasn’t she just as hard on herself? Making sure she always had the four food groups in Stella’s lunch, because if she missed one serving of dairy, Addison wasn’t doing her job? Making sure that she found new ways to make the three vegetables that Stella would eat and getting creative with sneaking other veggies into things because that was what good parenting looked like?
She squeezed her hands together. Maybe she shouldn’t be giving Gabe advice at all. Was she really doing that amazing of a job? Watching this whole thing with Cooper had made a few things seem very clear to her—Cooper would be fine because Gabe loved him, and Cooper knew that. Gabe didn’t have to say any magic words or do anything special for Cooper to be okay. Was the situation a little traumatic? Of course. Should Gabe talk to the teachers and administrators at the day care center? Absolutely. Should the adults step in and discipline these kids? Definitely. But for Cooper to be okay, all he needed was Gabe to put him on his lap, look him in the eye, and say, “I love you.” And he’d done that.
Maybe the parenting thing wasn’t as hard as she made it out in her head.
And why did she do that? So she could feel good about all the things she did? Or because she’d been every bit as int
imidated by the whole idea as Gabe had been. If her mom had said, “Move in with us and let me help you,” would Addison have jumped at that? Quite possibly.
“I promise that your mom is just as concerned about you,” Bea told Gabe. “And I also promise that whatever you make him for dinner is fine.”
“Spaghetti every night?” Gabe asked with a slight smile that made Addison’s heart squeeze.
Somehow she could tell that he hadn’t been smiling much over the past few days, and she was so glad this group could bring that out.
“Are you making green beans or something with it?” Bea asked.
“Yeah.”
“Then yes, you’re fine,” the older woman said with an affectionate smile. “It’s just not all as complicated as we make it sometimes.”
Addison loved Bea. Thank you for putting my thoughts into words.
“I don’t know,” Gabe said with a heavy sigh. “I knew my mom was doing a lot, but, damn, it’s been just Coop and me for only a few days, and I’m exhausted.”
Everyone in the group chuckled and nodded.
“Exhausted is a synonym for parenthood,” Corey said.
“I don’t know how you do it with four,” Gabe said, turning in that direction.
“One day at a time, one crisis at a time,” Corey said. “And they help each other, too.”
Gabe nodded, and this time when his eyes scanned in her direction, he met her gaze. Addison felt the jolt of it clear to her toes.
“Siblings can be really great,” he said, looking directly at her.
“Oh, honey, that’s for sure,” Roxanne said. “The fighting and shit will drive you insane, but if someone had done what those boys did to Cooper to one of mine, you can bet one of my older kids would have stepped in.”
Going Down Easy (Boys of the Big Easy) Page 21
