She shook her head. “Sad…but true.”
We talked the entire drive home, most of the time reminiscing about all the funny memories we had of her dad. Being here, talking about him, really made me realize how short life was. And how I’d let the stupid shit make me forget someone who was important to me. When we pulled to the curb, I parked.
“Listen, Beth. I’m really sorry I lost touch with your dad, and that you and I only text a few times a year. He was really important in my life, and I didn’t show him that the last ten years.”
She smiled sadly. “Just because you didn’t talk to him all the time doesn’t mean he didn’t know you cared about him. He knew. I know he did.”
It dawned on me that Beth was making me feel better, when it should be the other way around.
“Sorry. I shouldn’t be unloading my guilty conscience on you. I should be the one listening.
Making you feel better.”
“Don’t be silly. You made me feel better all day. I needed to be able to talk about the good times with Dad with someone. Mom is still too raw, and I feel better right now than I have for days. I’d been focusing on the loss, instead of the life I had with him. And you made me remember that I have a lot to be thankful for.”
“Well, I don’t know how I did that. But I’m glad to hear you’re at least feeling better.”
“Why don’t you come in? I’ll make us a quick dinner, pasta or something.”
“I’m actually kind of wiped. Before we started to drive, I thought about asking you to drive and hopping in the back to let my tongue hang out while I slept, like Owen.”
Beth looked over at her son. “He does sort of sleep like a puppy, doesn’t he?”
I chuckled. “You said it, not me.”
“Well, thank you again for today. Are you up for something tomorrow?”
“You bet. I’ll bring lunch. PB and J for me and my little buddy, and I’ll bring a knife and fork for your three Arizona fat bugs.”
“I’m not eating bugs, cheater.”
She opened her car door. I looked back when the interior light illuminated, and Owen hadn’t budged. “He’s really out, huh?”
“The kid can sleep through the high-pitched wail of a smoke alarm inside his room.”
“Not sure that’s a good thing. Are you going to try and wake him?”
“No. I’ll just carry him in and put him to bed.”
“I’ll do it.” Owen was a pretty big kid for his age. He had to weigh fifty or sixty pounds. “He’s at least half your body weight.”
Beth wasn’t kidding. Owen didn’t even flutter his eyes open as I unbuckled him from the back, lifted him out of the car, and set him over my shoulder fireman-style. He was totally dead weight to carry, too.
“Where’s his room?” I asked once we were inside the kitchen.
“Down the hall, first door on the left. I need to run to the bathroom.”
“Okay.”
Owen’s room was dark, and I didn’t want to risk tripping over something, so I flipped on the light.
As I suspected, he didn’t mind in the slightest. I gently set him down on his bed and pulled the covers over him. I’d never tucked a kid in before at night, and the moment caught me off guard. I studied Owen’s little face for a minute. He was such a great kid, so full of adventure and happiness.
What would it be like to tuck my own son in every night?
I’d read him a story. He’d definitely like scary books. No pansy-ass stories for my kid about trains that talked. I smiled thinking of Gia coming in while I was reading something totally age-inappropriate and scolding us for the tenth time. I’d watch him sleep for a few minutes, before shutting the lights off and heading to my own room. Where I’d proceed to do dirty shit to his mother.
As fast as the warm feeling had come over me as I imagined that play out in my head, I suddenly remembered I wouldn’t be tucking my own son in every night. I’d be tucking Elliott’s son in.
I took one last look at Owen and headed for his door.
Beth was in the kitchen pouring wine. She had two glasses on the table.
“Would you like a glass of wine?”
“Nah. I’m good. But thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow? How about around eleven?”
Her smile fell, but she forced the edges back up. “Sure. That sounds great. Thanks again for today, Heath.”
Back in my hotel room, I cracked open a beer from the mini bar and debated over texting Gia. I’d told her I needed some time, which I did, so it really wasn’t fair to her to keep making contact until I was sure where I stood with things. I’d been checking in with Oak twice a day, having him tell me she looked fine and things were good. But it wasn’t enough. I needed to hear her, even if it was just words in a text. Yet I still settled on Oak.
Rush: How’s everything going?
Oak: Everything’s smooth here, boss.
Rush: How’s Gia? Does she look okay? Is anyone bothering her?
After I typed it, I pictured a big gloating smile on Oak’s face. I didn’t give a fuck. I needed to know.
Oak: Your woman looks good. Came in on time, and I’m paying extra attention to her.
Rush: Is she sitting enough?
A few seconds later, I got a response. Only it wasn’t from Oak.
Gia: Are you texting with Oak right now?
Shit.
Rush: Yeah. Just checking in.
Gia: That’s funny. Because he just looked up at me, then texted into his phone.
I smiled. It felt good to hear her words. I’d missed her calling me on my bullshit.
Rush: I might’ve asked how you were doing…he wasn’t supposed to let you know.
Gia: The man is six-foot-six, inconspicuous is out.
I laughed.
Rush: I’ll try to remember that.
She went quiet after that. I couldn’t let things end that way.
Rush: So now that I’m caught anyway. How are you feeling?
A new message from Oak popped up.
Oak: She’s sitting right now, looking down and smiling. She’s good, boss.
I hadn’t even noticed how tense my shoulders were, until they relaxed hearing that.
Gia: I’m feeling good. No more spotting or anything at all. But I think I grew two inches around my waist overnight. I had to sneak into your office an hour ago and loop a rubber band through the buttonhole of my pants and onto the button. They were so tight.
A vision of Gia with a big round belly popped into my head. I closed my eyes to block everything else out and nab a better look. God, I loved her pregnant. It made me want to go back home just to see her belly again. And then…it fucking hit me.
Elliott’s baby is in that belly.
It was like my brain wanted to torture me. I’d feel like everything was fine, somehow forgetting the shit storm of late, and then it would thrust back into my memory with a vengeance. Those thirty seconds where I forgot felt so good, but it only made it worse when the truth slapped me in the face once again—like cutting open a raw wound over and over.
Rush: Glad you’re feeling well. Have a good night, Gia.
All hell had broken lose.
7
I’d shown up to pick up Beth and Owen at eleven the next day, just like we’d agreed upon. But when I got there, the two of them definitely weren’t ready to go sightseeing. In fact, it looked like they’d both lost their sanity a little. I was tempted to stay in the doorway for a while to watch the comedy show going on, but that would’ve just led to further damage. Water was spraying full blast from the kitchen faucet, and the two of them were standing in ankle-deep water. Owen had a cracked bucket and was scooping up water from the floor and dumping it into an outdoor garbage can. Only the crack in his bucket leaked out half the contents before he lifted it from the floor to the top of the garbage can. Beth had two hands wrapped around the faucet handle attempting to stop the water, yet it continued to spray all over the place—including directly into her face. She looked like she’d been standing there for a while. Not to mention, a kitchen cabinet hung broken from its hinges, and was that…Cheerios floating in the water?