He groans again, but does start to move. “Why do we always gots to be getting up?”
Good question, kid, and not one I have an answer to.
“Because Daddy has to work and you need to go to Grandma’s. You like Grandma’s.”
“Yeah.” He lets out a huff of breath as he sits up, rubbing his eyes. “I loves Grandma, but Daddy, I’m tired.”
“Me too, pal.” I help him off the small toddler bed and then we start our morning routine. I feed my son, get him ready for his day and then I see to myself.
I never expected to be a single parent. It’s rough as hell—especially now he’s bigger and able to get into things he shouldn’t. I feel like I need to have three sets of eyes on him at all times. Honestly, I don’t know how people manage with more than one kid. Juggling Cooper’s needs is hard enough.
We pile into the car and I strap him into his seat before climbing into the driver’s side and taking off for Mom’s. She’s been a rock for me over the last few years. I didn’t handle Robyn’s death well and she was such a support while I was trying to deal with the loss of my wife and caring for a newborn baby. I would have drowned without her.
Cooper sings to himself as I drive and I can’t help but smile at him. He’s something else, he really is. I didn’t think I could love a person as much as I love my son, but what I feel for him is something else. I’d die for my kid if I had to—without question. No one and nothing will ever touch my boy.
When I reach my mom’s house, I pull onto the driveway and come around the car to his door to unstrap him from the car seat. I lift him down to the ground and take his hand immediately. I’m always worried he’ll wander into the road, even though it’s a really quiet street Mom lives on.
“Let’s go find Grandma,” I tell him and together we head to the house.
The back door is, as always, open, so we step straight into the kitchen where I find Mom drinking a cup of caffeine at the table.
“Good morning.” She beams. I think she loves my kiddo as much as I do.
I watch as Coop rushes into her open arms and hugs her tight, like he’s afraid to let go. Maybe he is. Me and my mom are the only constants in his little life.
“Why don’t you go and play in the living room, little man. I’ll be with you once I’ve said bye to your daddy.”
Coop nods and starts in that direction, then comes back and hugs my legs. This kid…
I hug him back, letting all my love for him out in that one gesture. He gives me a squeeze before rushing off to find his toys.
“He seems in good spirits this morning,” Mom notes.
“You should have seen him an hour ago. He wasn’t happy about getting up.”
“He likes his sleep.” Mom zeroes her attention on me. “Are you okay? You look a little on edge.”
How can she tell that just by looking? Momtuition is a real thing. “I’m fine.”
“J—”
“Really, Mom, I’m fine.” She cocks a brow at me and I sigh. “Okay, I’m not, but I’m dealing.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
“I only have you and Coop to worry about, what with your sister down in Florida. Humor me.”
I don’t want to get into this with her, but I know Mom. She’s not going to let this go, so I take a seat at the dining table and receive the coffee she pours me with a murmur of appreciation.
“A woman asked me to dinner yesterday. Nothing romantic, just to say thank you, but I didn’t handle it very well.”
“What did you do?”
“I told her no, but I think I was a little abrupt.”
Mom sucks a breath in through her nose and wraps her hands around her mug. I can tell there’s a sermon about to hit me.
“I understand why you acted the way you did, but Jared, darling, you need to let go of the past. Talking to a member of the opposite sex isn’t betraying Robyn.”
Logically, I know this, but it doesn’t make it any easier to handle. “Every time I feel like I’m moving on, something comes along and throws me off balance.”
She grips my forearm. “It’s tough, darling, it is. I don’t think we’re meant to grieve for the rest of our lives either. You’re young, you can have something good with someone else if you just forgive yourself.”
I can’t do that. I wish I could. Logically, I know the collision wasn’t my fault, that it was the other driver who caused it all, but mentally is another matter. I blame myself for putting the car in his path. I blame myself for bringing my wife and son out that day, and I blame myself for making my son motherless.
I push up from the table. “I gotta go, Mom.”
“Don’t rush off. Stay for a while and talk this through. You can’t keep avoiding the issue forever.”
I can’t, but I will today.
I lean down and kiss her head, then I’m escaping back out to my car. Mom’s right, I know she is, but I can’t get my own thoughts in line with hers.
Which means when Nia asked me to dinner, I freaked.
I head over to the garage, my mind full of Mom’s words and my own stupid actions. It was just dinner. It’s not like she asked me to marry her. My reaction leaves me feeling embarrassed and humiliated. I should have said yes. There was nothing romantic in it, but now I’ve made it awkward by acting like there was.
When I pull into the parking lot at work and cut the engine, I can’t stop my eyes from gravitating over to the antiques shop. I can just about make out the shadowy figure of her inside the store and my stomach lurches. I made an idiot of myself.
Gripping the steering wheel, I try to think how I can fix this, but I have no idea.
A knock on the window has me twisting quickly. Slider is looking back at me and I can see the confusion lining his face.
“Are you getting out, or staying in there all day?” he asks.
I unbuckle my seat belt and open the door. “I’m getting out.”
Slider eyes me. “You doing okay, Sergeant?”
Referring to me by my rank in the Army throws me a little. It’s been a long time since I heard that come from Slider’s mouth. I guess we all fall back on old habits when we’re in the moment.
“Yeah, pal, I’m fine.”
His gaze goes across the street. “Is there something going on between you and Nia?”
I sigh at his hopeful tone. “No.”
“Do you want there to be?”
I pause. “No.”
“Are you lying?”
Yes.
“No.”
“All righty then.”
He heads toward the workshop, and I follow, but not before casting another glance in the direction of Nia’s store.
6
Nia
Standing with a mug of coffee, my back aching, I watch through the window like a creepy voyeur. I can see Jared across the street, working on a vehicle, but because of the heat he has the sleeves of his coveralls tied around his waist, leaving him in a white wife-beater that shows all the contours of his chest and abdomen. He looks divine, but I try not to think about that after my rebuttal a few days earlier.