Chapter 28
Chapter twenty-eight
Stephanie
After a quick break so Austin and Nana could stuff the turkey and pop it into the oven, more gifts exploded across the living room. But when I caught a glimpse of Jackson, I knew I needed to have that chat with him from earlier.
“Hey, kiddo, can you wait a minute?” I called to Jackson as we headed towards the main living room for more gifts. The allure of shiny wrapping paper was a siren call, but I didn’t want to postpone this conversation either.
“Sure.” He paused in the hall, still decked out in snowman pj's and his new hockey jersey.
“I’m glad you like your jersey.”
That infectious grin flashed at me again. “Best gift ever!”
I couldn’t help smiling back because his smile really was contagious. The words I wanted to say clawed at my throat, but I needed to phrase this carefully. “Did you know Cal Satterfield has a little girl?”
Jackson’s blue eyes bugged out. “He has a kid?”
I bit back a laugh at his expression. It wasn’t super public knowledge, since Cal liked to keep his private life private. “She’s a little older than Eden now. But the thing is, her mom died three years ago.”
Jackson instantly frowned. “That stinks. She probably doesn’t even remember what she looked like.”
“You’re right, it does stink.” I paused, gathering my thoughts. “Do you remember when Cal got sent down from the NHL?”
“Yeah, about three years ago. Oh.”
I saw the instant the lightbulb clicked in his head.
“Yeah. Cal had an attitude problem and that’s on him.
But around the same time, his wife died.
Being in Idaho, even if it was a punishment of sorts, meant his family was there to help take care of his little girl.
When he had the chance to go back to the NHL, that meant uprooting Khia.
Or leaving her behind when he was on the road for months at a time. ”
Jackson stewed over the words, looking too mature for a ten-year-old. “I guess I was wrong. He’s not just a great hockey player. He’s a good dad. And I think that’s better.” He scuffed the rug with his bare foot. “‘Cuz, I know I miss my dad, even if he’s a hero.”
I tousled his hair, aching to pull him into a hug, but I could see he wasn't ready for that. A brave boy trying to be a man. “I know the feeling, kiddo.”
He studied me for a minute then added, “Yeah. You deserve a better dad.” And with those words, he disappeared down the hall.
All I could do was stare after him, even after he vanished.
Out of the mouths of babes. Was my dad’s manipulation obvious to even my young nephews?
Everyone always said blood was thicker than water, but maybe family was what you made it.
Sure, I had an absentee dad and strained sibling relationships, but I had a great nana, a strong bond with my brother and sister-in-law and their kids, a sweet cousin.
I was blessed, despite the heartache. Like Nash said last night, it was all about how we let God use the hard times to grow us.
Lord, I need your help in the growing department. I haven’t done so well lately.
“Did you take the stars out of his eyes?”
I jumped at Gabe’s voice behind me. “Jeepers, don’t do that!”
He smirked. “It never gets old.”
I slugged his shoulder, but it hurt me more than him because he was crafted of iron, granite, and carbon fiber. I wrung out my stinging hand. So unfair.
Gabe only laughed and slung his arm over my shoulders. “Did you tell him about the real Cal Satterfield? Single dad?”
“How much did you hear?”
“Not a word. But I know you.”
I smiled wryly. “Cal may be a hotshot athlete, but he’s something of an honorary brother which means I don't have the same level of hero worship as y’all and don’t mind dropping him a few pegs to keep him humble.”
“He has my condolences then.” Gabe chuckled, sidestepping my attempt to swat him. “Jack looked pretty somber.”
I hummed. “It happens when heroes lose their shine, but I doubt that’s what’s on his mind.”
“Oh?”
“I’m not your snitch, my dude.”
He nudged my shoulder. “I’m not asking for a snitch, just my sister’s insight on my kid.”
“You don’t always like what I have to say.”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t need to hear it.”
I sighed, wondering where to start—with Jackson’s thoughts on his dad or his grandfather. “Is Hiram’s… differential treatment obvious?” I bit my lip and snuck a glance at my brother. “Towards me?”
Gabe’s expression morphed into flint as it often did whenever Hiram’s name came up.
While his own relationship with Hiram hadn’t initially been terrible, it had soured after I came along and Gabe joined the Marines.
Gabe had no patience or respect for the man who’d abandoned his own daughter. “Did Jackson say something about it?”
I shrugged. “Just that I deserve a better dad than I got.” My voice was light, almost breezy because my defense mechanisms were kicking in.
The walls I used to be a professional at work.
To keep my heart from getting beat up by my dad’s abandonment.
To ward off the sharp words from the siblings who never thought I fit the Addams family mold.
But it was harder to maintain today with the whispered vines of Hiram’s words last night choking my memory.
“It’s… noticeable to those who have their eyes open,” Gabe said slowly. He met my gaze frankly, his expression soft with understanding.
“I’m sorry your kid had to pick up on that at ten years old.”
Gabe’s hand cupped my shoulder. “Hey, don’t deflect on me. I know it bothers you. You don’t have to pretend otherwise. Not with me.”
Hot tears burned my eyes, but my smoldering relationship with Hiram wasn’t worth crying over.
It wasn’t even smoldering. It was… gone.
We shared blood and nothing else. For twenty-eight years, I’d fought to be someone my dad could be proud of.
I’d reinvented myself so many times to try to be the version of Stephanie Addams he could approve of, brag about to his friends, and show up for.
Instead, I got passive-aggressive criticism, late birthday cards (if they ever came at all), extravagant gifts, and a therapy bill.
I didn’t hate him, even if I wanted to sometimes.
I just wanted him to choose me for me. One time.
“Do you ever think about not coming back here?” I whispered, swiping at a rogue tear sneaking out from my lashes. Stand down, soldier. No crying.
Gabe hauled me into a hug, the perfect balance of gentleness and security. “We’ve talked about it. Stepping out to do our own thing with you and Nana and Hailey’s family. Like we’ve done on off years sometimes when we’re not with Ivy’s folks.”
“Hard to do when you never know where you’ll be sent though, huh?”
The hall echoed with silence, the murmur of voices in the distance a hundred miles from the moment. He was quiet. Too quiet, even for Gabe.
“Gabe?”
“I won’t be renewing my contract. Once my time in San Diego is up, I’m out.”
WHAT? I yanked back, nearly toppling over as I studied him, searching for the joke but not finding one. “You’re serious? But you love the military.”
Gabe nodded, his half smile sad. “True, but I love my family more. It’s been over twenty years, and I want to be more involved with my kids. As for branching out on our own for Christmas…” He sighed. “Maybe it’s overdue. Family is family. But…”
At what cost? “Family is what you make it, not what you’re born with.”
He huffed softly. “Something like that.” Hesitating for a moment, he added, “You going to be okay?”
My laugh was weak and watery, but I nodded and eased out of the hug. “Of course.”
Gabe fished his phone from his pocket and tapped something on the screen before refocusing on me. “Any other insight on my son?”
“Let’s just say that you have a little boy trying desperately hard to be a man… who misses his dad very much.”
Something flickered in Gabe’s face, but I couldn’t name it.
“I can’t tell you how to parent,” I quickly added, “because I’m not one. And I wouldn’t have dreamed of telling you to give up the military because I’m so proud of you. But I’m excited for you guys and this next chapter.”
Gabe pressed a kiss to the crown of my head. “Thanks, Stephie-Lou. I hear you.”
Something about the way he used my nickname and paired it with the words he used to tell me as a teen—his way of telling me he heard the words I said as well as the ones I didn’t—broke the dam on my tear ducts.
But instead of hugging me, Gabe shifted out of my peripheral, and a new smell filled my nose. Something citrusy and… like home.
Nash’s presence cocooned me in safety as he led my crying self towards the west alcove, closing the door softly behind us as I fell apart in his arms. I didn’t question how he'd gotten there—Gabe probably—or why. Just let myself feel the tsunami of emotions that I’d kept walled up behind my facade.
I cried the tears of the little girl who didn’t understand why her friends had moms and dads and why she lived with her grandparents.
The tears of the teenager who shuffled between her nana’s house and her brother and sister-in-law’s house in the middle of grief and loss, never feeling like she belonged in one place, though she knew she was dearly loved.
The tears of the young adult who walled off her heart to all thoughts of her father, convincing herself that she didn’t care that he didn’t want to be a part of her life.
The tears of the adult woman terrified to love a good man and take a chance on him because the people in her life who should have loved her and stayed decided she wasn’t what they wanted.
If her mom and dad hadn’t wanted her, why would Nash?