Chapter 20
“Can we throw the football?” Remy asked.
I set the cooler with Remy’s catch on one of the picnic tables I had at the back of the house and bit back a groan. I knew I wasn’t going to say no but damn if I didn’t need a break after sitting in the sun all day on the boat.
“Rethinking your view on naps?” Brooklyn chuckled.
Instead of answering either of them, I asked my own question, “Fish on the grill or should we build a fire?”
“Fire!” Remy shouted.
“My thoughts as well,” I agreed. “And, yes to tossing the ball but after we gut and fillet.”
“And after you shower off the guts and change your clothes,” Brooklyn amended.
Shopping with Brooklyn had been as eye-opening as shopping with Remy a couple days ago.
The woman was efficient and according to what I’d heard that was unusual.
The moment we pulled up to the shopping center Brooklyn declared her hatred for shopping.
This elated me. I avoided the mall, big box stores, and the like at all costs.
And I only went to the grocery store when I absolutely had to.
We were in and out of the clothing store in under thirty minutes with her and Remy fully kitted out for a five-day stay at the cabin.
The grocery store the same. She tackled that like a champ. Brooklyn didn’t peruse and only went down the aisles she needed. We were in the checkout line before Remy could utter a complaint. Though like me, he’d trailed behind Brooklyn mechanically bored.
I, however, had offered to help but she declined my offer asking me instead to keep my eye on Remy so she could get what she needed.
It wasn’t until we were back in the car and on our way up the mountain that it hit me how exhausting keeping up with a four-year-old was—and how easily she’d done it. I had one full day keeping Remington occupied and I hadn’t even had to do it alone and I was seeing why Brooklyn enjoyed napping.
The only thing that kept the guilt from gnawing at my insides was remembering Brooklyn was no longer alone.
“Then can we go for a ride?”
“It’s gonna get dark soon,” I reminded Remy. “You gotta pick one. The ride or tossing the ball.”
“The football. But can we go for a ride tomorrow?”
“Yep.”
“And the day after can you show me the barn?”
I didn’t need to be an experienced parent to know something wasn’t right. But when I glanced at Brooklyn and she was biting her lip I knew my instincts were spot on.
“Come here, Remy.”
Without delay, he skipped over and I bent to lift him onto the bench so we were almost eye level.
“Are you worried I’m leaving?”
Silence.
“I’m not leaving, Remington.”
More silence.
“I never left you, son. Never.”
It was then I decided to lie to my boy.
A small, white-lie but I figured Brooklyn, even with her philosophy about lying, would understand.
And one day I might have to answer for my slight misrepresentation of the past but there was no way in hell I would ever tell my son the truth about how he was conceived and I didn’t give a fuck if that was a parenting mistake.
“When I lost touch with your mom we didn’t know she was pregnant with you. And when she found out, it was too late for her to tell me. If we’d known, Remington, I would’ve been here.”
“You didn’t know?”
“No, son, I didn’t know and your mom did everything she could to find me. But I traveled so much with work she didn’t know where I was. But she looked for me. And as soon as she found me, she told me about you. And now I’m not going anywhere.”
Remington still didn’t look convinced.
“What’s wrong, bud?”
“Are you going to leave again with work?”
“No. I quit so I could be here with you and your mom.”
“You quit?” Brooklyn whispered.
Fuck. I hadn’t told her.
“Takeback’s headquarters are in Arizona. I told Wilson after this job’s complete I wasn’t going back. I still need to give him my formal resignation but, yeah, I quit.”
That reminded me—I still needed to make arrangements to clean out my place in Arizona and get it ready to sell.
When no one said anything I broke the silence and told Remy, “We have fish to clean and a ball to toss. Do you have any questions?”
Remy shook his head.
“All right. If you think of something you wanna know, just ask. Sugar, you got anything to add?”
“No.” The word sounded like she’d forced it through gritted teeth.
I craned my neck and looked over my shoulder to find her staring at me with blue fire dancing in her eyes.
“What’s—”
“I’m gonna get the groceries and let you guys handle the fish.”
Before I could stop her Brooklyn strutted her ass to the back door and disappeared into the house. When I turned back to Remy his lips were pinched together.
“You’re busted,” he announced.
“What?”
“That’s momma’s mad face. That means you’re in trouble.”
“Trouble?”
“Totally.”
How could I be in trouble?
“What am I in trouble for?”
Remy shrugged his shoulders then passed on valuable information.
“Pop says that women are creatures and us men never know why they get mad. He says that flowers work.” He ended with another shrug and I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. Though I did it praying Brooklyn didn’t hear.
“I think your pop meant women are mysterious creatures.”
Again his shoulders went to his ears and he grinned.
“Just try flowers.”
“Smart. After we clean up I’ll find some flowers.”
I glanced around the back of the house and there wasn’t a flower in sight.
I was totally fucked.
I was hosing fish guts off the table when Remington came back with an armful of sticks and dropped them into the fire pit.
“This is your house.”
“Yep.”
“Can we live up here?”
Damn, but I loved Remy was asking.
“Do you like the cabin?”
“Yes.”
Damn, I loved that, too.
“What’s your favorite part?”
“The backyard.”
I didn’t have a backyard as such. There was no grass up there to mow, just trees and shrubs I bushhogged every year to keep from encroaching on the cabin. But no grass didn’t mean lots of room for Remy to run and play.
“The problem with living up here is, it’s far away from your school. And in the winter the road coming up the mountain gets closed when we have a big snow. Which means sometimes I can’t leave for days. So I don’t know about us living up here but we can come up whenever you want.”
“I don’t mind being snowed in.”
I’m sure he didn’t. But he would when he was a teenager and wanted to get down the mountain to hang with his buds. That thought led me to the terrifying thought of Remy being old enough to drive—and before that, Brooklyn having to drive Remy up and down the mountain in ice and snow.
“Snow days are fun but they’re more fun when they don’t last for weeks at a time.”
“Can I call you dad?”
The hose fell from my hand and every muscle in my body stiffened.
“Yes.”
“Are you and Momma gonna get married?”
Do four year olds know about marriage? Apparently, they did, but what the hell? Where was Brooklyn? How was I supposed to answer that?
“What do you know about marriage?”
“Pop says that marriage is a street with no exits, just lots of bends and twists. I don’t know how a road twists but that’s what he says when Grams is mad at him.”
More wisdom coming from a four-year-old.
Great.
“Your pop sounds smart.”
“He is.”
Right. What now?
“Hungry?”
“Starving.”
“Let’s get cleaned up and we’ll start dinner.”
“Don’t forget the flowers, Dad.”
Dad.
Jesus Christ.
An emotion I’d never felt before burned through my body, leaving a trail blazing in its wake that hurt so good I wanted it to never end. With my heart in my throat, I watched my son walk into the house.
Then I went in search of flowers.