Chapter 20
Cody
I roll out of bed a minute before my alarm is set to go off. Typical. It’s Sunday morning and also Father’s Day.
I rub the back of my neck and sit here for a second, letting the silence of the lodge settle in. This is the third Sunday I’ve woken up here instead of at my place. Feels weird, but not in a bad way. Just different.
The new routine since Karissa and Emma came home has been to help her first, make sure she’s got what she needs, then work out, shower, eat breakfast, and on a Sunday, head to church. Today’s a little different, though.
After lunch, I’ll head out fishing with Mason, Jesse, and Dad for a few hours.
Just the guys. We always fish on Father’s Day.
Been doing it for as long as I can remember.
Jesse won’t stay long. Ella has something planned for him, being it’s his first Father’s Day and all, but still, I’m looking forward to it.
When I open my door, I expect to hear Emma fussing or something.
Instead, I find Karissa in the kitchen, already moving around.
She’s still in pajamas—soft gray shorts and an oversized blue T-shirt with a few milk or spit-up stains on it.
Her hair’s tied up and she’s focused on whatever she’s reading on her phone.
She startles when she hears me. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”
“No.” I step into the kitchen, observing the slight mess. “Couldn’t sleep?” I ask.
“No, I slept okay. I need you to get the cast iron, though,” she says, pointing to the opened lower cabinet.
I bend down and grab it. “You know, I was gonna make breakfast after I showered,” I remind her, not because I mind that she’s doing it, but because she doesn’t need to be on her feet. “Like usual,” I add.
“I got it,” she says quickly, pouring milk into a mixing bowl.
Before I can press, she reaches across the counter and slides a piece of white paper toward me.
When I see what’s on it, I freeze. There are two tiny footprints of pink paint stamped in the shape of a heart. Below them, her handwriting reads:
This is not your typical Father’s Day card.
It’s a thank-you-for-stepping-up-when-you-didn’t-have-to card. We appreciate you more than you’ll ever know.
– Emma she seemed way too excited about it.
Ella dresses Cora the same sometimes. I don’t get it. If the bow wasn’t almost bigger than their head, it’d be fine. Instead, they both look like they’re auditioning to be the star on top of a Christmas tree.
I buckle Emma in, double-check the chest clip like it’s second nature now, and shut the door to move on and help Karissa get in.
We drive to church in silence, the kind that feels comfortable. As if we’ve been doing life together so long that we don’t need to fill every moment with noise.
* * *
We walk into church to find the usual. People greeting one another, hugging in the foyer, kids running, coffee brewing somewhere nearby.
Emma’s sound asleep in her car seat, the bow still somehow in place, just as big and ridiculous as when we left. I’m half expecting someone to make a comment about it, and I’m already bracing myself to talk Karissa out of tears if they do.
Karissa walks beside me slowly. She’s been more on edge this morning.
Janet, Pastor Charlie’s wife, spots us right away and lights up as she makes her way over.
“Oh my goodness, she’s here!” she gushes. “Let me see that sweet baby.”
I turn the car seat so she can see her, while Karissa gives her a soft smile. “She’s sleeping at the moment.”
“Good!” she exclaims and takes another glance at her. “Congratulations! She’s just beautiful.”
Karissa nods. Her “thank you” is sweet. Her posture is polite. But I can feel the tension coming off her like static.
We get to the pew where my family is already seated and I set the car seat down in the aisle beside us. Karissa stays close, turning it inward, and hardly looks up from Emma.
The service begins, but Karissa doesn’t look relaxed. The moment Emma makes a sound, she’s quick to pull her from the car seat and pop a binky in her mouth. I get it—she doesn’t want to disrupt or feel like people are staring…even though Emma’s not the only baby in the room.
Afterward, people stop us again on the way out. More congratulations, jokes about sleepless nights and diaper changes. Karissa laughs with them all, thanks everyone, and never stops smiling.
When we get back in my truck, there’s no more smiling. She just twirls the hem of her dress between her fingers, staring down. I sit back, letting the air blow for a second before speaking.
“What’s going on?” I ask, my voice steady.
“I didn’t like that.”
“Like what?”
“All the people. Too close to her.”
I glance over, my brows pull in. “What do you mean? You think someone was gonna snatch her?” I laugh.
Her head snaps toward me. “No! I don’t want her to get sick, Cody.”
I stare at her for a second, thinking she’s kidding, but she’s not. “She isn’t going to get sick, she’s—”
“She’s three weeks old,” she reminds me, as if I forgot.
“Karissa, nobody even touched her.”
“They were still too close.”
I blink. “They’re people from my church. Basically family. Not random strangers off the street.”
“That doesn’t mean they don’t have germs!” she snaps. “You don’t get it.”
“You’re acting like we walked into a biohazard zone. They’re not sick, Karissa. If they were, they wouldn’t be there.”
“You don’t know that,” she fires back, voice sharp. “And even if they weren’t, they could still be carrying something.”
I don’t say anything, just grip the wheel a little tighter and head out onto the road.
By the time we get to the big house, the tension between us is thicker than I’d prefer.
We haven’t had a single moment like this before, and it pulls up memories I’d rather forget.
When things are rocky in a relationship— Well, not that we’re in a relationship, I guess.
I don’t know. I don’t even know what I’m trying to say. All I know is I don’t like the tension.
We get inside my parents’ front door and Emma’s wide awake, looking at both of us. Karissa pulls her out, says she needs to feed her before we sit down to eat, and is already reaching in the bag.
I watch her head toward the living room, tossing a blanket up over her. I turn the corner into the kitchen where Mom, Ella, Jesse, and Cora are.
Mom and I meet eyes first, then Cora sees me and smiles.
“Where’s Dad?” I ask.
“He’s changing. The shirt he wore was making him itchy…I don’t know.” She gestures with a sigh, like every aging day comes with more ailments.
A hand hits my shoulder. “Got all the rods in my truck,” Mason says.
“Good. Dad know where he wants to go?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know.”
“Well, you guys can figure it out over lunch; this is ready,” Mom says, carrying a steaming hot pan to the table.
I hear the front door open and look to see it’s Wes and Addie, laughing about who knows what. They’re in their own world half the time. All young and in love and crap.
“Shouldn’t you be with your dad?” I ask Wesley.
“Rude…” Addison scolds, but she knows I’m just yanking his chain.
“I was this morning; we got breakfast.”
“Good.”
Addison gets closer to me, her voice quiet. “Did you like your little Father’s Day slash not Father’s Day gift?” She bats her eyes.
“How’d you know about that?”
“Because Karissa asked me if I thought you’d think it was weird.” She smiles. “I said I thought you’d love it.” She nudges my arm and I shoo her off of me, trying to act like I’m not thankful for her having common sense.
* * *
Mason’s got his line cast out, Jesse’s sitting on the cooler putting another worm on, and I’m beside Dad, who’s gulping Mom’s lemonade out of the thermos she packed for us.
It’s quiet and peaceful; the kind that I forgot existed, if I’m being honest.
Dad casts his line again, then leans back in his seat. “Alright.” He breaks the silence with an easy tone. “Let’s hear it.”
Jesse chuckles. “Hear what?”
“You know the drill. I only get all three of my sons alone about once a year. Spill the beans…how you all really doing?”
I groan but grin. “You’re not supposed to interrogate us on your day.”
“It’s Father’s Day. This is the point.”
We all laugh, and Jesse sets his rod down. “Got us there,” he says. “Well…if you really want to know, Ella and I have been talking about baby number two.”
“Number two?!” Mason blurts. “Cora was just born, like, yesterday!”
I don’t say anything, but I’m thinking the exact same thing. Being around Karissa and Emma as much as I have, I can’t even imagine doing it again already. I know Jesse and Ella are married, and Cora’s older than Emma by a few months, but still…it’s hard.
Jesse just shrugs. “She’s six months old. By the time another baby would actually be born, she’d be nearing two.”
“I guess…” Mason says, like even the math doesn’t help their case.
“That’s exciting,” Dad says, leaning forward a little. “When you say you’re talking about it…are you both agreeing? Or disagreeing?”
“Agreeing on the baby, disagreeing on the timing.”
“How’s that?” I ask.
“Well, ideally, I think it would make the most sense to have the baby in spring or early summer,” Jesse explains. “But Ella’s thinking if we plan it that way, she’ll be early pregnant during the season, and she’s not sure about that.”
“Oh.” Dad breathes out, nodding like he gets it.
“What is she…crazy?” I joke.
Jesse holds his hands up. “Hey, her logic, not mine.”
“I say just see what happens,” Mason throws in casually, stretching out his legs.
“Oh, is that your advice?” I lift an eyebrow. “Careful, Mason. That mindset’ll get you in trouble.”
Dad chuckles, pointing a finger. “Famous last words right there. Matter of fact…” He glances over at Jesse. “That’s exactly how you happened.”
Jesse groans. “Seriously?”
We all bust out laughing, and Dad just shrugs, proud as ever before looking toward Mason next. “And you? How’s the job?”
Mason shrugs, eyes still on the water. “Fine.”
“Uh-uh,” Dad says. “Try again.”
Mason lets out a slow sigh. “I don’t know. Most days it’s good. Some days it feels like too much. Like all I do is see the worst parts of people.”
Dad nods slowly, processing. “Yeah, I’m sure. You seeing anyone? Talking to anyone?”
Mason lets out a breath. “Nope.”
“She’s out there,” Dad assures him. “Keep looking.”
Mason shrugs again. “Yeah. Thought I’d have found her by now. I don’t know.”
“You’re not behind,” Dad says, voice solid. “Can’t rush it and you don’t just want to settle either.”
Mason gives him a nod but doesn’t say anything else. The look on his face says enough. He’s heard that a thousand times and he’s tired of it.
Dad’s eyes land on me then. “And what about you? You’ve been playing stepdad for a few weeks now, trying not to look too attached, when we all know you are.”
Jesse and Mason smirk but stay quiet.
I shake my head. “There’s nothing going on.”
Dad raises a brow. “Right…”
I glance down at the rod in my hands. “I mean, she gave me something this morning…kind of a Father’s Day card, but not.”
He waits a second. “Yeah? How’d that feel?”
I exhale, laughing under my breath. “Made me pretty happy, not gonna lie.”
He nods. “Well, if that doesn’t speak for itself, I don’t know what does.”
“I know.”
“Just be careful. Don’t jump into anything you’re not ready for, but also don’t be an idiot and ignore it.”
I laugh once more and nod. “I won’t.”
The quiet settles again for maybe two seconds before Mason’s line jerks tight.
“Got one!” he yells, leaping up like a kid on Christmas, reeling like his life depends on it.
“Easy,” Jesse laughs. “We’re not in a tournament.”
But Mason’s locked in…until the line suddenly goes slack.
His whole body freezes. “That sucker!”
We lose it, cracking up as he stands there like he just got his heart broken.