Chapter 5
Cole
I waited till eleven thirty to start getting the boys ready then sent off a text to Janet, checking in on her and her husband. Turns out he needs help to do damn near everything still and for once, the idea of not being able to rely on her doesn’t feel like a damn weight settling on my chest…because I have Cam. The boys and I head over to Mary’s, finding the door already open and Mary calls us in before we can even knock.
“Come on in, boys. Cam’s in the kitchen getting everything ready now.” The boys fling open the screen door and run inside with me trailing behind them.
“Hey, Cole. How’ve you been?” Mary’s sitting at the breakfast bar, watching me with a damn smile on her face.
“Been busy, but alright. How you holding up?” The boys are already helping, grabbing mixing bowls and measuring cups while Cam sets the ingredients on the island.
“I’m doing alright. I want to thank you for being there for my Cam. I knew it was a bad idea for her to meet up with him, but I guess I get why she did it. At least now, she can take legal action if he reaches out to her instead of having to just put up with it.” I nod my head, but my eyes are still watching Cam. Her dark brown hair is in a messy bun that looks like barely contained Chaos resting on top of her head and she’s changed from the jeans and t-shirt she was wearing at the diner. Now she has on a pair of jean shorts that show a lethal amount of her creamy white skin and a baggy t-shirt that’s tucked in only in the front. She’s damn beautiful, no denying it.
“That guy…he’s a real prick. What did she ever see in him?” I don’t know why I’m asking…maybe to fill the silence, maybe out of genuine curiosity…who knows.
“Well, he wasn’t like this in the beginning. That little shit had us all fooled, but she married him because it pissed off her momma. That woman damn near destroyed Cam and when she came back, claiming to be sober right before Cam turned eighteen, she told Cam she couldn’t be with Dalton and that she needed to stay away from him. Next thing we know, a few weeks after her eighteenth birthday, Cam came home and showed her momma the marriage license.” God, she was barely a legal adult when she jumped into marriage and that asshole is who she got stuck with?!
“She’s better off without him.” Mary nods in agreement as we both watch Cam help Holden and Cody with measuring and mixing the ingredients while Joey sits on her hip, holding a wooden spoon like a damn scepter as he swings it around like a little king commanding his royal subject.
“I know you got yourself more than enough reasons to not trust us women, but…Cam’s one of the good ones, Cole. She’s not like their momma...or hers. My Cam would never do anything to hurt those boys…or you.” She says it like it’s gospel, not a shred of doubt in the mix and, as much as I don’t want to, I believe her.
“I don’t know how to do this, Mary…to trust someone…especially not with my boys. I don’t know how to believe that she’s different…that she’s good, but…I’m trying.” And that’s the bare bones truth of it. Even when I denied it and even now, the truth is that I’ve been trying to trust her and, little by little, I’m getting there.
“That’s all I can ask, Cole.” We spend the next two hours watching as the boys and Cam bake four batches of cookies, most of which she sends home with us, then I make sure she’s okay with watching the boys again next week. By the time we make it home, it’s time to start dinner, though Cody and Holden are quick to point out that it’s not as good as Cam’s cooking…of course it’s not. That woman manages to make the most simple meals seem like a gourmet cuisine layered in comfort. How the hell can I compete with that?
We went from Cam watching the boys for an extra week, to her watching them for the last three and we’re now starting the fourth week while Janet helps her husband with his recovery and drives him to physical therapy five days a week. As hard as I tried not to, I’ve gotten used to having Cam in our lives and, as surprising as it is to even me, I enjoy having her around. During the first week, she was pretty quick to leave after I got home, but the last two weeks, she’d stick around and ask about my day.
It’s such a foreign thing for me to have someone show genuine interest in the events of my day and she doesn’t even bat an eye lash when I bitch and moan about shitty clients or incompetent contractors. On top of showing interest in my day, all last week, she stayed and ate dinner with us, at the boys’ request, and it felt so…natural.
This week is already bound to be sheer chaos at work with me having to leave the house by five thirty and my final appointments for the day all start between four and five in the evening. Maybe my expecting chaos is why I’m so damn surprised when Cam walks into the house this morning with an insulated lunchbox and a thermos that she sets on the counter in front of me as I try to finish my first cup of coffee at five in the damn morning.
“Alright, there should be enough coffee here to get you through the morning then there’s a sausage, egg and cheese burrito with bell pepper and onion for your breakfast. I didn’t know if you’d have access to a microwave by lunch time, so I packed a ham and cheese sandwich with lettuce, tomato and red onion for your lunch as well as a bag of chips and some grapes.” I…don’t even know what the hell to say. Even when I was married to Sarah, she never once packed my lunch for me, made coffee for me or even got up before I left for work in the morning.
“Thanks, but you didn’t have to do that.” I feel even worse about her not letting me pay her now. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve tried, but now there’s three hundred dollars in that damn jar with the lid duct taped on it.
“It’s seriously not a problem. I know this week is going to be rough, so I figured this might make it a tiny bit less overwhelming.” She’s downplaying the shit out of it, making it seem like this isn’t the nicest damn thing anyone’s done for me in longer than I care to mention. Hell, I guess she doesn’t really know that, but I’ll be damned if I don’t make it clear that I appreciate it.
“A tiny bit? Hell, Cam, this is amazing. Thank you. You don’t have to do this, but I appreciate that you did.” I don’t know if she was geared up for a rejection, or maybe expecting me to be angry, but the second I finish speaking, I see her entire body relax.
“Grams is going to Iris’s for dinner, so I thought I would have the boys help me make chicken parm for dinner. That okay?” I find it funny that she asks, as if I’ve turned down a home cooked meal yet.
“Sounds good. Let me give you some money for the stuff for it…” Yeah, she shuts that shit down fast.
“Nope, I already picked up everything last night to cover dinners for the week and even got some more snack stuff for the boys.” I don’t know why, but hearing that she didn’t just buy stuff for dinner, but specifically bought snacks for the boys…it makes my damn heart clench and a knot forms in my throat that I struggle to choke down, barely rasping out my next words past the ball of unexpected emotion that simple comment left me with.
“Thanks, Cam.” She gives me a soft smile, one that doesn’t hold a hint of gloating, smugness or even satisfaction. It’s a smile that damn near makes my heart stutter…one that says ‘don’t worry, I’ve got this’ and I’ll be damned if that isn’t something I damn well don’t feel I deserve, not from her…not after how I’ve treated her.
“Anytime, Cole. Have a good day at work and we’ll see you when you get home.” Damn, how does it feel so good hearing her call this place home? Since Sarah left, this house has been nothing more than the place where I try to pretend I’ve got all my shit together even though, outside these doors, my whole world is fraying at the edges, waiting for one wrong move that will completely unravel the whole thing.
Today was hard, harder than most. Between the last job running longer than expected and me slicing my damn hand open on a jagged section of my last client’s gutter, I’m done…thoroughly over it. I should’ve been home three hours ago, but when I sent Cam a text to let her know I’d be late, all she said in response was ‘you’re good. I’ve got the boys, so do what you need to do’. Now, I’m walking through the damn door at ten minutes past nine, my entire body weighing a ton and my hand throbbing like hell, but the smell of something rich, warm and savory dulls the ache of the day just enough to bring a small smile to my damn face.
“Hey! How was your…oh god! What happened?!” Cam’s voice goes from soft to whisper yell in record speed as she rushed over to me, immediately reaching for my wrist, pulling me close enough to inspect my poorly bandaged hand.
“It’s nothing, just cut my hand on a gutter.” She arches her brow, giving me that ‘are you serious’ look before shaking her head at me and tugging me toward the kitchen.
“Let me guess, you rinsed it off with a hose then slapped a bandage on it and called it good?” It’s amazing how close she is to the truth, though it wasn’t a hose…
“Pretty much, but it was a bottle of water and a bandage.” That earns me a stern glare followed by an eye roll as she guides me to sit at the dining table.
“Stay there and I’ll be right back.” She quickly grabs a beer out of the fridge, opens it and sets it in front of me before hauling ass out of the house. She comes rushing back in a few minutes later and now my brow is arched as I spot the rather large first aid kit she’s carrying as she makes her way to me. She sets the kit on the table then drags one of the chairs over to me and takes a seat.
“You don’t have to do this, it’s not that bad.” Yeah, that glare, it shouldn’t be as adorable as it is.
“Give me your hand and don’t argue, mister.” And, yeah, I give her my hand. She’s so damn gentle as she removes the half ass wrapping from my hand that was made with a partial roll of gauze and some sports wrap I found in my truck.
“Shit…not that bad, huh? Cole, you need stitches, but since even I know you won’t go to the damn hospital for it, I’ll use some butterfly bandages to hold it all together for now and we’ll check it again in the morning.” I don’t argue because, well, what the hell can I even say to that? She’s one hundred percent right about me not being willing to go to the hospital, so I shut my damn mouth, drink my beer and watch her work her magic.
“Thanks, Cam.” My voice is rough from a hard day’s work and too damn much shit clogging my mind, but the words are sincere…they’re real…and the look on her face tells me she knows it.
“You’re welcome, Cole. Now, sit here while I dish up dinner and grab you another beer.” Which is exactly what I do. I knew that whatever she made smelled amazing, but when she sets a beer in front of me followed by a plate with Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes and honey glazed carrots, I feel something in me shift. She’s spent almost three weeks now taking care of my family better than my ex ever did, even after how shitty I was to her in the beginning.