26. Something Unexpected
SOMETHING UNEXPECTED
“Thanks for doing this,” Baker said on Tuesday. “I know you worked today, and with school starting next week…”
“Stop.” Tasha checked the pork roast in the oven, then the pan of roasted potatoes beneath it. “I know you wanted to see your sister one more time before they leave, and Brittany really wanted to meet Micah.”
He’d worried his sister might push her own agenda where his relationship was concerned, but Tasha didn’t seem fazed by it one way or the other.
“I wanted to see her,” he said. “But it’s a lot for you. You were busy today.”
“So were you.” She stepped into his arms and pressed a quick kiss to his mouth.
“Bakerrrrrrr!”
The shout came from the living room, long and dramatic, like Micah had just realized his presence with his little head turning fast in excitement.
“Hey, little man,” he said. “Are you watching cartoons?”
Micah sat on the floor, legs crossed, a small bowl of Goldfish crackers beside him. “Bluey.” He pointed at the TV, launching one cracker through the air by mistake, then laughed and sent another flying, just because.
“Oh boy.” He bent down, scooping up the first cracker, then the second. He caught the third midair. “Looks like a game you don’t want him to discover. No throwing food, Micah.”
Tasha walked over, calmly removed the bowl, and set it on the counter. “Now you lose them. You know the rule.”
Micah’s bottom lip trembled. His mouth opened, and the wail that followed was instant, loud, and damn impressive.
It was the first time he’d heard the kid cry. Let alone like this.
“Mom told you not to throw them,” he said evenly. No reason to wince when the next wail came. The last thing he wanted to do was let Tasha know he was feeling slightly helpless now.
Micah grabbed his hand with surprising strength, tugging hard while pointing at the counter like the crackers were his lifeline.
He looked to Tasha. She shook her head. “Sorry, bud. I listen to your mother. She said no.”
“If you don’t stop crying over crackers,” she said as gently as she could while staying firm, “you won’t get to watch your show either. I can turn it off.”
“No,” Micah said sharply, bouncing once and clenching his tiny fists.
Having not spent a lot of time around kids, it looked like he was going to witness his first tantrum.
She inhaled slowly. Then again. “This is not how I want the night to start before your sister and Emme get here.”
“What can I do to help?” he asked.
“Would you mind taking him outside for a bit?” she asked. “Let him run it out. If I were alone, he’d be in time-out until he settled, but sometimes that just winds him up longer.”
He lifted a hand, palm out. “No explanation needed. I feel like I started it anyway when I asked about the show.”
Micah was still grumbling, stomping toward the counter, eyeing the crackers as if his cuteness was his last hope. He’d give the kid an A for effort.
He scooped him up, held him sideways lying in the air and headed for the patio door. “Hey. I want to play outside. Don’t you?”
“Cracker,” Micah muttered, then let out a giggle when he jostled him some, his fingers wiggling into the toddler’s side for a little tickle.
“You can have them with dinner,” she said. “Or maybe Baker wants to play golf.”
He wrinkled his nose. Golf was the last sport anyone would ever catch him playing.
“Golf,” Micah repeated, and giggled again, wiggling in his arms to get down.
He slid the glass door open and stepped outside. Micah immediately squirmed down and hurried to the large plastic toy bin on the patio, tugging at the lid with steadfast determination.
Micah couldn’t quite get it open on his own, but he sure as hell wasn’t giving up.
A good trait to have in a kid. Even an adult.
One he lost years ago and shouldn’t have.
Until Tasha walked into his life and he told himself it was time to put that shit where it belonged and at least try something again. Anything.
Micah huffed, his little hands straining against the plastic lid. He grunted like the effort alone might will it into opening.
He crouched beside him. “Do you want help?”
Micah paused, glanced at him, then nodded once firmly.
He lifted the lid until it caught and stayed up on its own. A small mountain of plastic trucks, balls, and mismatched outdoor toys greeted them, right next to the golf clubs.
Micah’s bad mood evaporated instantly.
“There you go,” he said. “Take your pick.”
He thought it’d be the golf club, but instead, Micah dove in with both hands, emerging victorious with the new dump truck. The toddler made a low rumbling sound under his breath and pushed it across the concrete with his eyes narrowed in deep concentration.
He sat in the chair watching. He didn’t rush him. Didn’t fill the space with useless chatter. Just stayed and let the kid do his thing.
After a moment, Micah pushed the truck toward him, stopping it right at his sneaker, then running over the toe.
“For you,” Micah said, then went back and got another truck for himself.
Something unexpected settled in his chest.
He wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t as if the two of them hadn’t played like this before.
But this time it just felt... different.
“Thanks, buddy.” He took the truck and rolled it back, slower this time, matching Micah’s pace. “Mine’s hauling rocks.” He went to the side and picked a few up against the house. Just little white ones for decoration.
Maybe he shouldn’t start something new, but if he picked it up after, what was the harm?
Micah considered that, then took them out of Baker’s truck for his, so he got more and soon they were moving loads back and forth across the patio and dumping them into piles.
There were no more tears. No crackers. No drama.
Just the two of them, side by side, enjoying each other’s company, playing with plastic trucks without words, loading, hauling and dumping.
Building something no one knew or felt but him.
After a while, Micah leaned into his knee, almost trusting, still pushing his truck in lazy circles, but slower, more tired.
He didn’t move. He just rested his forearm on his thigh and let the moment be what it was as he looked down at Tasha’s son playing on his own.
It was easy. Quiet. Just about right.
Through the glass door, he caught a glimpse of Tasha watching them with a small smile on her face. Not surprised. Not worried. Just…soft.
He looked back down at Micah, who was now carefully lining the trucks up and picking the rocks back up to bring to the side. Like he knew it was time to clean up without being asked.
He swallowed the lump in his throat.
He hadn’t planned this. Hadn’t expected it either.
But sitting there, helping a toddler open a bin and build a tiny world on a concrete patio, it didn’t feel complicated.
It felt simple.
And wasn’t that what they’d said they wanted all along?
How the hell had it come in the form of this?
But when his phone buzzed in his pocket, the moment seemed to end before he wanted.
He pulled it out and saw it was his sister saying she was close.
“Can we pick all these rocks up now?” he asked Micah. “Who can do it faster?”
And just like that, it was a new game. A new race, and he was letting Micah win, listening to the giggles, and letting the quiet confidence of always wanting a family of his own settle back into his soul as if it’d never been shattered before.
This time when he looked up, it wasn’t just Tasha watching him, it was Brittany and Emme, and his sister looked damn near tears.