6. Amos
AMOS
T he engine hums as I pull my SUV onto my parents' street. As I turn into their driveway, I run my hand over the leather steering wheel.
I'll never know why my little brother left his house to Ed and his car to me. Now that Ed and Avery are together, I'm wondering if Jake saw something that I didn't, or even they didn't.
We'll never know what Jake was thinking. But I sold my old car and drive around in his. He wanted me to have it, and I appreciate this little piece of him.
I kill the engine but don't move to get out just yet. My thoughts go to Alana and the way her brow creases every time she talks to me, as if I'm a puzzle she can't figure out.
My heart feels raw after talking to her about Jake. I've never told a woman that story before, about how we almost lost Jake as a baby. Or my admission about the guilt I feel about not protecting him. But something about being in that room with Alana made me want her to understand.
She thinks I'm a thug, gruff with big muscles, and maybe I am. Maybe the military made me that way. I shouldn't care what a caseworker thinks, apart from thinking I'm a good option for the boy, but I care very much what Alana thinks of me.
Which is a distraction I don't need right now. I push all thoughts of the curvy caseworker aside and get out of the car.
I use my key to let myself in and find Mom and Avery in the living room. Mom sits in an armchair with a steaming mug of coffee beside her. Her cheeks are pale, and she smiles thinly when she sees me.
"How you feeling, Mom?" I give her a kiss on the cheek, and I hate the way her skin feels papery.
"I'm doing fine, honey."
"Where's Dad?"
"He's in the kitchen making lunch. You want to stay?"
I wince at the thought of my father in the kitchen. "You let him in there?"
She chuckles, and it's good to hear her laugh. "It's baloney sandwiches. He can't mess that one up."
I'm not convinced, but I don't push the point.
"I'll go and get him," I say. "There's something I want you all to hear."
Mom's brow furrows.
"It's nothing bad, Mom, don't worry. It's about the boy."
I find Dad in the kitchen humming as he lathers thick slices of bread with butter. "You want a sandwich?"
He looks at me hopefully, but I shake my head. "I already ate."
I bring Dad through to the living room, and he takes a seat next to Mom. Everyone is looking at me anxiously, and I get straight to the point.
"I'm going to take the boy in."
Avery's mouth drops open, and Mom shakes her head. I hold my hand up before they can say anything.
"He's Jake's son. He belongs with this family. Before you say it, Mom: You and Dad can't take this on at the moment."
She opens her mouth to protest, but I cut her off. "You need to put yourself first, Mom. You need to look after your own health."
"I agree," says Avery. "Which is why I'm going to take him."
"No." I shake my head. "I appreciate the thought, Avery, but you're going to be wanting to start your own family soon."
I don't let her know that I already know her news. She'll tell me in due time. But there's a flicker of relief across her face.
"So that leaves me."
Dad clears his throat. "You sure you're up to it, son? What are you going to do when you're deployed?"
I take a deep breath. This will be the hardest blow to my family. "I'm leaving the Navy."
My dad remains stoic as ever, but the crease in his brow gives his thoughts away.
"You don't just leave the Navy, Amos."
"I've spoken to my Commanding Officer, and I'm getting a fast-tracked honorable discharge due to the circumstances."
"But are you sure that's what you want?" asks Dad.
I've turned this over in my mind all night. The Navy has been my life for a lot of years. My SEAL team is my second family. But my blood family needs me now. Jake's son needs me. Sometimes you've got to put blood first.
"Yes," I say confidently. "It's the right thing to do."
"But is it what you want, Amos?" says Mom. "I understand how you feel about this boy and wanting to help. But what do you know about children? You've been in the Navy for almost twenty years. You've not had the chance to be around children."
"I'll learn."
Mom looks doubtful, and Avery just shakes her head.
"No offense, brother, but I don't think you really understand what you're getting in for."
I shrug, trying not to let them see how their words make me doubt myself.
"It's not like he's a baby. I won't be dealing with diapers and midnight feedings. He's six years old; he'll be self-sufficient. All I need to do is provide a bed and food and clothes and drop him off at school. How hard can it be?"
My mom and dad share an amused look.
"Honey," says Mom. "Your heart's in the right place. But kids are hard at every age. Do you really think you can do this?"
This is not the reception I was expecting. They don't believe I can look after a child.
"Does no one believe I can raise this kid?"
I glare at my sister and my parents. They all look away, and Avery gives a little shrug.
"Great." I run a hand through my hair. "I can do it. I can raise Jake's kid. I've got the apartment. And you guys are not too far away. I just need to find another job."
My mom sighs. "Honey, I know you're trying to do something good. But think about it. Just think about it first."
"I have thought about it. My mind's made up. I've been to see Alana."
"And what did she say?"
I pause, looking away, not wanting to tell them Alana has the same doubts as they do.
But I'm a fucking Navy SEAL. I survived BUD/S, the hardest training program in the world. I can survive life with a six-year-old.
I straighten up and give my mom my best hard-ass look.
"I'm doing this, Mom. It's the best option for Jake's boy. You know it. Avery knows it. I know it. I'm doing it."
I stride out of the house with more confidence than I feel. My family doesn't believe I can raise this kid. But how hard can it be?
It's later that evening when I return home to my apartment. I chuck the keys on the kitchen counter, and they skid along the marble top.
I huff out a deep breath and scan my apartment. I bought it ten years ago when I grew too old to keep staying with my parents between deployments. It’s a small two-bedroom apartment with an open-plan kitchen and living area.
My gym equipment sits on a mat in front of the sliding door that leads to a small balcony. The only outside space I own, aside from the communal garden downstairs.
It's a bachelor’s pad to crash in when I'm back. Not a home to raise a boy in.
Aside from the gym gear, the only furniture in the living room is a two-seater couch and a coffee table, both in front of the wide screen TV. The walls are painted white, and the only thing hanging on them is a wall clock near the kitchen. I don't even have a plant to make this place look homey.
I head to the spare room and pause in the doorway. A desk sits in one corner, and my gaming PC occupies most of the desktop. I flop into my gaming chair and swivel around to scan the room. I've never had a guest to stay in this room. It's my gaming room and my dumping ground.
There's a stack of books which Avery found at Jake's place and military gear piled everywhere. I keep my living space sparse, and the spare room is the dumping ground for everything else.
I run my hand over the windowsill, and there are areas where the paint is cracked from the sun. The white walls have marks on them, and I never bothered to redecorate in here.
I run a hand through my hair, wondering if I'm making a huge mistake. My apartment is for a bachelor, not a small boy.
The image from the photograph pops into my head. This is Jake's son we're talking about. Whatever it takes, I'll do it.