Chapter 17
ANNE
The flight home felt different from every other flight I'd taken with the team.
Same seats, same overhead bins, same recycled air.
But Liam was three rows ahead of me instead of five rows behind some invisible wall, and when he'd boarded he'd caught my eye and held it for just a second — nothing that anyone else would have read as anything — and I'd spent the entire flight quietly coming apart at the seams in the best possible way.
Carter dropped into the seat beside me somewhere over Arkansas.
"So," he said, with the particular satisfaction of someone who had been right about something for a long time. "You two worked things out."
"Carter—"
"Not a question." He settled back. "He's been smiling all morning. I haven't seen him smile like that since before the injury." A pause. "Maybe before that."
I looked toward the front of the plane where I could just see the back of Liam's head. "We're going to try. For real this time."
"Good." Carter glanced at me. "He talks about Finn constantly. Every single day since Chicago. The hockey stick grip thing. The castle. The drawing." He shook his head. "He's going to be a great dad."
"I know."
"You know what he told me this morning? He said Finn labeled the drawing. All three of you."
My throat tightened. "He's been making different versions of that drawing for two years."
Carter was quiet for a moment. Then: "Make it real. That's all I'm saying."
"We are," I said. "We already are."
I had just enough time to go home, shower, change, and get back to the airport before Mom and Finn’s flight landed.
I was at the gate early, which was how I always did things when Finn was involved. I needed the extra minutes to just stand there and be ready, because the moment he came through that door the world would speed up considerably and not slow down again until bedtime.
My mom came through first, pulling her small suitcase, and I hugged her tight.
"Good trip?" she asked.
"Really good. Really, really good."
She studied my face the way mothers did. Whatever she saw there made her smile. "I'm glad."
Then Finn spotted me and the world sped up exactly as predicted.
"Mommy!"
I caught him, lifted him, buried my face in his hair. He smelled like the airplane and something sugary and entirely himself.
"Hi, baby. I missed you."
"I missed you too! Mommy, guess what — the pilot let me see the cockpit!
I got to sit in the captain's seat and there were so many buttons and he showed me how the whole plane works and the flight attendant gave me these—" He thrust a small pair of plastic wings at me. "I'm an official junior pilot!"
"That is the coolest thing I've ever heard."
"I know! I can't wait to tell Daddy!" He squirmed to get down, suddenly urgent. "Is Daddy waiting? Can we go right now?"
"He's at the apartment. We have to get Grandma's bags first."
"But Daddy's waiting?—"
"Finn." My mom took his hand with the practiced ease of someone who had been managing his energy for five days. "Daddy will still be there when we get there. Help me with my bag."
He took the handle with great seriousness and marched toward baggage claim, and my mom caught my eye over his head and mouthed he's been like this since yesterday.
The drive to the apartment — Finn filling every second of it with questions and observations and more questions — felt like the shortest drive I'd ever taken. I pulled into the parking lot and texted Liam.
His response came back before I'd even put my phone down.
Been here a while. Couldn't wait.
I smiled so hard my face hurt.
We unloaded the car — suitcases, Finn's backpack stuffed with LEGOs and his hockey stick, my mom's travel bag — and rode the elevator up. Finn was vibrating next to me, barely able to stand still.
"Is he really here? Right now?"
"Right now."
"What if he had to leave?"
"He didn't."
"But what if?—"
The elevator doors opened.
Liam was leaning against my apartment door, hands in his pockets, and the expression on his face when he saw Finn — relief and joy and something so unguarded it made my chest ache — was something I was going to carry for the rest of my life.
Finn dropped his backpack and ran.
"Daddy!"
Liam caught him, scooped him up, spun him once. Finn's shriek of delight echoed down the entire hallway.
"Hey, buddy. I missed you."
"I missed you too! Daddy, I'm a junior pilot! Look—" He shoved the wings toward Liam's face. "The flight attendant gave them to me because I sat in the captain's seat and I know how planes work now!"
"No way. You know how to fly a plane?"
"Pretty much yeah."
"That's incredible. You'll have to teach me."
Finn considered this with great seriousness. "I can probably do that."
My mom stepped forward and Liam set Finn down, extending his hand. "Carol. Good to see you."
"Liam." She shook it warmly, looked at him for a moment with that particular measuring look she reserved for things that mattered. "Anne tells me things are better."
"They are. I'm going to take care of them. Both of them."
She held his gaze a moment longer. Then nodded, satisfied, and picked up her suitcase. "Good. Now let's get inside — Finn has been talking about this castle he's going to build with you since approximately…forever!”
The evening settled into something I hadn't known I'd been waiting for.
Finn showed Liam everything — the LEGOs he'd packed, the hockey stick, the drawings he'd brought in a careful folder. He narrated each drawing with the thoroughness of a museum curator.
"This one is you scoring a goal. I made your jersey the right color but I didn't know what number so Mommy told me seventeen so I put seventeen. Hey, that’s my number too!
And this one is me and you at a hockey game.
And this one—" He held up the last one carefully, both hands. "This one is our family."
Three stick figures in front of a house. The labels in careful kindergarten letters. Daddy. Finn. Mommy.
Liam took it from him with both hands.
He didn't say anything for a moment. Just looked at it.
"Can I keep this one?" he said finally.
Finn's face went huge. "You want to keep my drawing?"
"I want to keep all of them. But especially this one."
"You can put it on your fridge!"
"That's exactly where it's going."
Finn beamed like he'd given someone the best gift of his life. Which, I thought, watching Liam carefully fold the drawing and put it in his jacket pocket — he kind of had.
We ordered pizza and ate on the living room floor, all four of us around the coffee table. Finn sat pressed against Liam's side like it was the most natural position in the world. My mom watched us with quiet, careful eyes and said very little.
Liam kept finding reasons to touch me. Hand on my back when he reached past me for a napkin. Knee pressed against mine under the table. Fingers brushing mine when we both reached for the same slice at the same time, and the small private look he gave me after.
Like he needed the contact to confirm this was real.
I understood the feeling completely.
When Finn started to fade — the crash that always followed his highest-energy days, sudden and complete — he made his announcement with the gravity of someone fighting the inevitable.
"I'm not tired."
"I know," I said.
"I'm really not."
"I believe you."
"But maybe," Liam said, "we could read for a little while? In bed? Because I have to tell you, I'm pretty tired. All that flying."
Finn looked at him with deep suspicion. "You're not tired."
"I'm extremely tired."
"You don't look tired."
"I'm very good at hiding it. Come on. Show me where you're sleeping."
Finn took his hand and led him down the hall, explaining the guest room layout with great authority, and I caught my mom's eye across the room.
She pressed her lips together against a smile. Shook her head slightly. Went to make tea.
We squeezed onto the narrow guest bed — Finn in the middle, Liam's feet hanging off the end, me propped against the headboard with the book — and I read while Liam did the voices. Finn corrected his dragon voice twice and his knight voice once, and Liam took every note with complete seriousness.
By the last page Finn's eyes were at half-mast.
"Love you, Mommy," he murmured.
"Love you, baby."
A long pause. Barely conscious.
"Love you, Daddy."
Liam went very still beside me.
"I love you too, Finn," he said quietly. "So much."
Finn was asleep before the sentence finished.
We sat there for a moment without moving, the both of us, in the narrow bed in the low light with our son asleep between us. I didn't look at Liam because I knew if I looked at him I would completely fall apart and wake Finn up.
We tiptoed out together.
My mom was already in bed with her book, door mostly closed. She gave us a small wave through the gap.
And then it was just us. Standing in my living room in the quiet of an apartment where everyone I loved was asleep down the hall.
Liam looked at me.
"That was—" I started.
"Yeah," he said. "It was."
We didn't need to finish the sentence.
He pulled me to the couch and we lay down together, my back against his chest, his arms around me. Outside the window St. Louis was doing its late-evening thing. In here everything was still.
"He said it," Liam said quietly. "Love you Daddy."
"He's been saying it for years. In his head, I mean. To the idea of you." I paused. "Now he gets to say it to the real thing."
His arms tightened around me.
"Tomorrow I want to take him to practice," he said. "Introduce him to the guys. Show him the ice. Is that?—"
"He will absolutely lose his mind."
"Then lunch. The zoo if he wants. Whatever he wants."
"Liam. You don't have to pack everything into one week."
"I know." A pause. "I just want to be there.
I want to be the person he calls when something good happens.
I want to know what his favorite food is and what scares him and what he thinks about before he falls asleep.
" His voice was even. Considered. "I want to know everything I missed and everything that's still coming. All of it."
I turned in his arms to look at him.
"His favorite food is grilled cheese with the burnt edge," I said. "He's scared of the drain in the bathtub but he'll never admit it. And before he falls asleep he usually talks to his stuffed bear. Full conversations. We don't know what about."
Liam looked at me.
"Thank you," he said.
"There's more. Years of it. I'll tell you all of it."
He kissed me — soft, unhurried — and I settled back against him.
Eventually he shifted. "I should go. Your mom?—"
"She likes you."
"She's deciding whether to like me. That's different." He sat up. "I'll be back in the morning. We'll take Finn to practice."
At the door he turned back.
"Anne."
"Yeah."
"I love you. I know I said it last night but I want to make sure you hear it when we're not in a hotel room in Dallas and everything isn't—" He paused. "I love you. Here. In your apartment. With your mom down the hall and Finn asleep in the guest room. This is the version that counts."
I held onto that.
"I love you too," I said. "This version. All the versions."
After he left I stood at the closed door for a while, not ready to move yet.
Then I checked on Finn — still out cold, bear tucked under his arm, face completely peaceful — and got ready for bed.
My phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Missing you already. See you in the morning.
I put the phone face down, pulled up my blanket, and fell asleep faster than I had in weeks.