Chapter seven #4
A loud crash echoes from inside. I glance through the window to make sure he’s okay. Bentley’s chest is heaving, his face is flushed, and sweat is beading at his temples as his anger rises to the surface.
Now we’re getting somewhere.
“That’s not a good idea right now.”
“What?”
“I’m handling it, Astrid, okay?”
“What do you mean ‘handling it’?”
“I’m trying a different approach to get him to talk to me.”
Astrid groans. “Oh, God. Penn! My son hit another boy…”
“Listen,” I cut her off. “I know you’re upset, but there’s a reason Bentley hit another kid, Astrid, and it has to be a good one because we both know he normally wouldn’t hurt a fly.”
I can hear her sigh and after a few seconds she finally relents. “You’re right.”
“So, let me see what I can get out of him, and I’ll bring him home later. You can lay into him then.”
“I was so scared, Penn.” Emotion clogs her throat. “I didn’t know what to think. So many scenarios went through my mind when I saw my phone…”
“I know, but he’s safe. I’ve got him, Astrid. I’m doing what I can for our boy, okay?”
She grows quiet and then I hear her sniffle. “Okay. I’ll see you later. And Penn?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“Of course, Astrid.”
When I hang up the call, a scream pierces the air. Heart racing, I rush inside to find the sledgehammer on the ground and Bentley attacking the wall with his bare hands, ripping at the broken pieces of drywall. I run over and grab him by his shoulders, yanking him back before he hurts himself.
“What the hell, Bentley?” I shout and take a step back, chest heaving.
Red-faced with tears welling in his eyes, Bentley yanks the hard hat off and throws it to the ground. Clenching his fists at his sides, he shouts, “It’s not fair!”
Trying to steady my breathing, I soften my tone. “What’s not fair, buddy?”
He shakes his head. “It’s just not fair!”
“What’s going on, Bentley? What did that kid do?”
“He deserved to be punched. He deserved a lot more for what he said!”
I close the distance between us and pull him into my chest. “What did he say, Bentley? You can talk to me.”
He buries his face in my shirt, gripping the fabric tightly. “He said my dad isn’t here because he couldn’t stand to have me as a son!” he shouts into my chest and then the tears flow freely.
I'm holding him close as my body vibrates with anger. “What the fuck?”
He sobs uncontrollably and all I can do is rub his back while I contemplate how to get revenge on an eleven-year-old boy. “Shhh. It’s okay. I’m right here.”
“It’s not okay!” Bentley yells.
“I know, buddy. I know it sucks.”
“Everyone else has a dad but me,” he cries on a broken whimper. He wipes under his nose with the back of his hand and looks up at me. “And some days I can barely remember him. I feel like I’ve already forgotten who he is…”
Is this what a broken heart feels like? The pain of a child, so deep and raw that you can’t soothe it away. Even though every fiber of your being aches to protect them from this hurt.
“I know that feeling,” I finally say, trying to comfort him but not sure if it will work.
His head pops up and he stares at me through the mess on his face. “What?”
“My dad isn’t here anymore either.”
Bentley nods once. “Oh yeah.”
“Granted, he was in my life much longer than yours was, but even now I’m afraid of forgetting him.
” Memories slam into me as we sit there.
“I can’t hear his laugh anymore, or the sound of his shoes on the hardwood when he’d walk through the house.
But his presence—that will always live on in here.
” I pound a fist on my chest, warring with my own emotions. “Tell me what you remember about him.”
Bentley wipes under his nose. “I remember when he coached my soccer team when I was five.”
The corner of my mouth lifts. “I was there. He would scream louder than your mom sometimes. He loved watching you play when he could, Bentley. We talked about it all the time.”
“You played soccer together, didn’t you?”
“We did. Your dad and I were an unbeatable team on and off the field.” The pang of loss hits my chest hard.
Bentley sniffles. “I remember that he always put his bag on the floor by the door when he’d get home from the base.”
I nod. “What else?”
Bentley wipes his nose on his sleeve again. “I remember trying to walk in his boots. I was really little, but I swear I can still see him holding my hands as he helped me walk.”
“That’s a great memory.” Then I pinch his chin between two of my fingers, direct his face to mine, and say, “And that’s something that no one, not even that little shit Marcus, can take away from you, do you hear me?”
He nods, tears sliding down his face.
“That kid has no say on the relationship you had with your dad, Bentley. And your father died protecting and fighting for his country. There is no more noble way to go. He loved you and always will. He’s with you every day in here.
” I tap his chest. “And I will always be here for you too. Any way I can.”
Bentley doesn’t say anything as he rests his head back on my shoulder, but his breathing has started to slow and the red blotches on his face are fading.
“Uncle Penn?”
“Yeah, bud?”
His fists tighten in my shirt. “I’m really glad you’re still here.”
My heart swells with emotion and a tear slides down my cheek. “Me too, Bentley. Me too.”
And I will be here for these kids no matter what. But if Astrid and I become more, would they accept my new role in their lives? Would I want my role to be different?
And then I think about Brandon and my dad.
Once a Marine, always a Marine, as my dad would always say.
The two of them had a relationship of their own.
Would my father be angry with me for acting on my feelings toward another Marine’s wife?
I mean, Brandon’s not coming back, but still—there’s an unspoken code there.
The resolve I had earlier about moving forward with her is dwindling the longer I sit here with Bentley in my arms, considering everything at stake.
Squeezing him into me, I breathe him in from the top of his head and focus on what I can control.
At this rate, I may never have children of my own, but I could die happy with that reality because these kids—Bentley and Lilly—they feel like mine in my heart. And that will never change.
***
“Oh, thank God!” Astrid rushes down the porch as Bentley and I exit my truck. As soon as she reaches her son, she encases him in her arms and kisses the top of his head.
“I’m okay, Mom,” Bentley grumbles, glancing up at me, silently asking for assistance. But now that he’s in Astrid’s hands, he’s on his own.
“You may be okay on the outside, but we clearly need to talk about what’s going on in here.” She lays her hand over his heart, her eyes scanning his face. “Have you been crying?”
“A little sawdust got in his eye,” I chime in, winking down at Bentley.
Astrid arches a brow at me. “Is that so?”
“Yeah. Speaking of, Bentley, why don’t you go inside and take a shower? You’re filthy.”
He rolls his eyes, but walks toward the house, leaving me and Astrid alone. She watches him walk away and then turns back to me. “So you handling it was getting him all dirty?”
Crossing my arms over my chest, I stare down at her. “Look, he needed to release some anger, all right? So I took him to a job site and let him swing a sledgehammer into a wall a few times.”
Her eyes go wide. “You did what?”
“Haven’t you ever wanted to go to one of those rage rooms so you can take out all of your aggression on a bunch of shit and fucking destroy it?”
She casts her eyes to the side and nods. “More than you’d probably think. Did it work?”
I clear my throat, trying not to get emotional just thinking about watching that little boy fall apart in front of me again. Taking a deep breath, I nod. “He broke down and talked to me.”
“And?”
“That other kid said some shit about Brandon and how he died because he didn’t want Bentley as his son.” Her shoulders drop and her lips part slightly. “I’ll let him fill you in on all of the rest.”
She covers her mouth now with her hand. “Oh, God.” Closing her eyes, she shakes her head, hanging it low.
Reaching out for her, I place my hand on her shoulder until she looks back up at me. “He’s going to be okay, Astrid.”
Her eyes fill with tears. “I—I can’t protect him from that, Penn.”
“I know.”
“Why do kids have to be so cruel?”
“I wish I knew the answer to that fucking question, believe me. As it is, I’m trying to think of a way to fuck with the kid that isn’t illegal so he knows not to mess with our boy again.”
Her brow furrows. “You said our boy…”
I freeze. “And?”
“You said it earlier on the phone, too.”
My heart starts to beat fast because I’m not sure where she’s headed with this. “Well, I mean…we are both responsible for him, aren’t we?”
Her gaze is so analytical that I’m having the hardest time reading her. Normally with Astrid, I can gauge what she’s thinking, whether she’s happy, stressed, or emotional. But right now, she’s looking at me like I’m a freaking math problem that she doesn’t know how to solve.
“Mommy?” Lilly calls from the front door, breaking our eye contact.
“Yes, baby?”
“Grandma says it’s time for dinner.”
“Okay, I’ll be right there!” Astrid calls over her shoulder.
Lilly waves at me enthusiastically from the door. “Hi, Uncle Penn!”
“Hey, Lilly Bear.”
“Bentley said you let him smash walls at your house! I wanna do that too!”
Chuckling, I reply, “Next time I’ll make sure you get to come.”
“Yay!” And as quickly as she came, she disappears back into the house.
“What were we talking about?” Astrid says as she turns back to me.
“Fuck if I know.”
She laughs, and the sight of her smiling instantly calms me. But then I remember that she’s supposed to be going on her date tonight and the peace I just felt gets replaced with rage.
“I’d better get going. Don’t want you to be late for your date.”
Her face falls. “Oh, uh…that won’t be a problem.”
“Why not?”
“Because I canceled it.”
Relief floods my chest, but I don’t get too comfortable with the feeling until I know more. “Why?”
“Because my son needs me tonight. Dick can wait.”
I internally smile at the fact that she called him Dick, but not before I do the running man in my head, celebrating that she’s not going out with him after all. Maybe Willow talked some more sense into her too.
“I think that’s the noble choice.”
She rolls her eyes at me. “I can tell you’re so disappointed for me.”
“Look, despite how I feel about Dick, your kids will always come first, Astrid. Any man worthy of your time will understand that. And if he doesn’t, then he doesn’t fucking deserve you.”
“And what about you, Penn? You say you don’t have time for a relationship, but you don’t have a family or a business keeping you from having a life. From finding someone worthy of your time. So what’s your excuse?”
This is it, Penn.
Now’s the time to tell her.
Lay it all on the line and take the risk.
Find out if your feelings are one-sided.
But then I think about what’s transpired today—Bentley’s fight, his breakdown, Astrid’s stress over not being there when she needed to—and I think twice.
It’s not the right time.
When I tell Astrid what I’m feeling, I don’t want it to be a rushed confession on her front lawn, made in desperation.
I don’t want it to be when she’s being pulled in ten different directions, her mind a muddled mess.
When I tell her what I’m feeling, I want her undivided attention—her energy, her focus, and those eyes locked on mine so she knows that I’m serious. So she can’t hide behind her responsibilities.
“Timing,” I finally answer.
She huffs out a laugh. “Well, I understand that one.”
“Timing is everything. And lately, I just think it’s been…off.”
“Mom! Dinner!” Lilly shouts from the door again.
“I’ll be right there!” Astrid yells back.
I start to walk backward. “Go eat. Talk to Bentley and then pour yourself a glass of wine and relax.” Then I toss her the chocolate I was holding in my hand. She catches it reflexively.
“I think I’ll need a whole bottle and about a dozen more of these after today.” She rubs her temples. “Mother of the year over here.”
“Don’t think for a second you aren’t exactly the mother that those kids need, Astrid.”
Her eyes lift to mine, tears threatening to spill over. “Thank you. For everything.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
She shakes her head. “You do so much, Penn. And today? You were there for Bentley in a way I never could be.”
“And I always will be. No matter what.” I take another step toward my truck. “Go eat.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow night at the bakery for the floors?”
“Yup, I’ll be there.”
“Good night, Penn.”
“Good night, Astrid,” I say as I hop in my truck. As I drive away and watch Astrid fade in my rearview mirror, I’m not really sure where I’m headed, but I’m content knowing I was able to be there for Bentley today when he needed me the most.