25. Jude

TWENTY-FIVE

JUDE

" S ebastian."

At my voice, he startled, uncurling from his balled-up position, whipping his head in my direction, features twisting into a wounded glare.

I opened my mouth to speak, but he stopped me.

"Go away." He swiped the backs of his hands over his cheeks in a jerky, furious motion. "Just leave me alone."

I paused my steps toward him, words of comfort dying on my tongue. The rush of traffic from the nearby road filled my ears like a dull roar, my chest empty. It was true. Whoever said it. That kids are our hearts, walking around outside of our bodies. Because I didn't feel mine at all.

I watched mine cry instead.

Slowly, cautiously, I crossed the final few feet and lowered myself onto the bench beside him. "Buddy, I'm sorry, but that's not what I'm gonna do. I'm not going to leave you alone."

He tucked his legs in again, wrapping his scrawny arms around them, hiding his face from me against his knees. Like he used to do when he was little .

"I've been worried all day," I murmured, voice barely more than a rumble. "I know you're upset, but I wish you wouldn't have run off."

He cocked his head, as if about to tell me off, but I didn't let him.

"I don't want to treat you like a little kid. You're not a little kid. You're mature and smart and…I would be devastated if anything ever happened to you. If you were hurt or…" I stared at the ground, where I absently dug the toe of my sneaker into the dirt. "This is my fault."

He didn't speak, his face hidden once again. I placed my hand on his back, and when he didn't move away or mention it, I inched even closer to him. "I know you want me to treat you like a big kid, because you are, but it's hard for me to accept. That's not on you. That's on me. You're going into fifth grade, but it's hard for me not to think of you as a five-year-old. As the kid who cuddled with me during movie nights and wanted to ride on my shoulders as we walked home from the school bus stop. You are my whole life, and I'm so afraid of messing up that I'm not treating you like I should. Like the caring and thoughtful ten-year-old you are, and I'm sorry."

I saw the muscle jumping in his clenched jaw and nearly wilted at the hurt radiating off him in waves.

"Buddy, I'm so, so sorry I lied to you. I shouldn't have. It's not an excuse, but I want you to know that when I told you I wasn't going on a date, I thought I was protecting you. I assumed you wouldn't be able to handle it."

He heaved out a breath, his shoulders shaking as he started to cry.

"Maybe you can't handle it, and that's okay, but I should have talked to you about it. I'm sorry I didn't. I love you so much, and I'm sorry I lied to you. I'm sorry you were blindsided this morning. I'm so sorry. "

He shuddered, and I pulled him into me, holding him tight as he cried for a long time. I suspected he had a lot to say to me but didn't quite have the words yet, and I made a mental note to call our family therapist to get back on the schedule.

Minutes later, when he finally settled, I wiped his face clear of tears and snot with the bottom of my T-shirt then hauled him back into me, kissing his head. "Mommy and I were both really excited when we found out we were going to have our first baby, but your mom, she was really excited. And she loved being pregnant. She took a picture every week to see how big you were growing in her belly, and she would sing to you, rubbing where she thought your head was. Sometimes people say women glow when they're pregnant, and that was true for your mother. She lit up ."

Sebastian sat back, interested, so I continued.

"She second-guessed everything, the color of your nursery, the sheets on the crib, the clothes, the books, even the little washcloths and bath stuff. She was afraid you'd be sensitive to this thing or that thing, had bought three different kinds of diapers because she wanted to make sure you wouldn't develop a rash on your tiny butt," I said, earning a ghost of a smile from my son.

"And I'll never forget the day you were born as long as I live." I smiled at the memory. "It was the middle of the night when your mom started feeling like she was in labor, and I got us packed up and in the car right away. But the nurses at the hospital told her she wasn't in labor. It was Braxton-Hicks." I looked at my son, explaining, "That's what it's called when a mom might think it feels like labor, but it's not. She feels pain, but not real contractions. So they sent us home, and your sweet, darling mother cursed up a storm. Dropping f-bombs all over the place. Cursed out the nurses, even the guy who brought up the wheelchair for her. She was pissed. "

Sebastian snickered. "What happened?"

"I brought her home, and a couple hours later, we went right back to the hospital. It wasn't Braxton-Hicks contractions. They were real contractions, and you came screaming into the world as Mommy screamed at the doctors and nurses that she f-ing knew what she was talking about."

He laughed even harder, and I ruffled his hair then dragged my hand down his cheek, admiring him like I used to in his crib. "When you cursed at me this morning, that's what I thought of. Even through all the worry and fear of you running away, I thought of your mom cursing in labor at everyone who crossed her path. And I thought of how she loved you."

I held on to him, both of my hands around his face, his features a perfect mixture of Mira and me. My two children, the living reminder of her, of some of the best times of my life, and I supposed I should let them in on more. They should know more about her, more of the memories I'd been so afraid to share with them. Afraid for them and for me. I didn't want to fall down into a hole that I wouldn't be able to climb out of.

But I was out. I was out now, and I had to keep my eyes open for my kids.

My perfect, beautiful children.

"Your mom loved being a mom more than anything. And she loved you more than life itself. That love will never change or diminish, no matter what. Even though she's gone, she's still in here—" I tapped my fingers on his forehead then lower over his chest "—and here."

Tears streamed down Sebastian's face anew, but he nodded, seeming to take some solace in my words. I cried too.

"Your mom will always be your mom. Nothing can ever change that or take that away. I promise you. No matter what happens, that will never change. Your love for her and her love for you is forever. You hear me? "

Another nod, this one accompanied by a tiny, tremulous smile and sniffles.

"We can talk about what happened today another time, but I want you to know how much Mommy and I love you, and even though she's not here in person, you will always have her love. I'm proud to be your dad, and that will never change either. I love you."

I searched his eyes, willing him to understand the depth of my words, of my commitment to him and his well-being, above all else. After an endless stretch of silence, he seemed to deflate with a sigh.

"I love you too," he said and hugged me, accepting all the kisses I laid over his head.

I wiped at my own eyes and stood, motioning toward the parking lot. "You ready to get out of here?"

He stood and started toward me, but he stopped after half a step. "The email. Did you get it?"

I tried not to physically react. "Yeah, buddy, I did."

He stared at me, understanding. "I didn't make it."

I shook my head. "I'm sorry."

He swung back around, kicking at the dirt.

I closed the distance between us and kicked the dirt too. "Damn it."

He paused and furrowed his brow at me, so I shrugged, allowing him to follow my lead. I tried not to curse to be a good example, but if there was ever a time to let it fly, today was the day. He stomped his foot. "Son of a bitch!"

I nodded. "Assholes!"

"Motherfuckers!"

"Hey, whoa, okay." I grabbed hold of him, towing him into my side with a chuckle. "That's enough for now, all right?"

We walked together back to the car, my arm over his shoulders, both of us quiet in our thoughts. The car ride home was quiet too, and while I was beyond relieved to have found Sebastian, this was only the beginning. We had a long road ahead of us.

Once I parked, Seb headed right inside, not waiting on me, so I stayed in the car to call my mother then Youmna, letting them know I'd found him safe and sound. Of course, they both wanted to come over, but I asked them not to. Told them Sebastian and I both needed some time, and that we had a lot to work through. Neither one of them was happy about my boundary, and I was positive they were already texting each other about me. Wondering if I needed to seek medical attention.

No, but maybe a few beers would help.

As soon as I stepped into the house, Amelia tore down the hall. "Daddy!"

"Hey, Lu." I swung her up into my arms and kissed her temple. "What are you doing?"

"Un-uncle Nate lemme do his makeup."

"Makeup?" I carried her to the living room, where Nate sat with his back to me. "Where'd you get makeup?"

That was when he faced me, his cheeks covered in what I could only guess was red marker. Shapes drawn on his face in thick blue lines.

I tickled my daughter's side. "What did you do?"

She shrieked in laughter. "Makeup!"

Nate held up one of the markers. "Says it's washable."

"Yeah." I agreed. "But it'll take a whole lot of scrubbing."

I put Amelia down with a pat to her butt. "Go get your iPad. You can go on it in the kitchen while you have a snack."

"Ice cream sandwich?" she asked in her cutest squeaky voice.

"Yes. You can have an ice cream sandwich."

"Yes!" She ran off to help herself to an ice cream sandwich from the freezer with the stool I kept specifically for her.

I plopped onto the sofa with a groan and rubbed my hands over my face. "I'm exhausted. "

Nate leaned forward to take his cell phone from the coffee table, tapping on it for a minute.

I apologized. "I'm sorry, man. I'm sure I ruined your plans for the day."

"Nah." He kept his focus on his phone as he texted. "You know I'm always here for you. Tabitha's got the bar covered."

"I suspect she got her raise?"

"Yeah." He huffed a laugh, an odd, almost wondrous smile on his face.

"What?"

He shook his head, and for a moment, I thought he wouldn't tell me. But this was Nate. He wore all his emotions on his sleeve and had no problem talking about them either. "We were closing the other night. Just me and her, and I asked why I never see her drink or hang out with anybody there. I've never met any of her friends. She said Walt's not her scene."

"Funny since she's been working there for a decade."

He raised his palm. "That's exactly what I said."

"What is her scene?"

"I asked her that, and she said someplace quieter where she could have a glass of wine and eat a nice dinner."

I crossed my arms, giving in to a smile. "So why do you look like that?"

"I don't know. Got me thinking, I guess."

"About what?"

"Walt's has done good business for me, but I'm not a young buck anymore."

That dragged a laugh out of me. "No. None of us are."

"I'm not interested in being up until three in the morning, making sure everything is closed up."

"That's what you have Tabitha for."

"I don't want that for her either. She's got a lot going on and… I don't know. Maybe it's time for me to switch things up. "

"What are you thinking about?"

"Opening up someplace quieter, where someone could have a glass of wine and eat a nice dinner."

This guy. If my own life weren't a mess, I'd tell him to clean up his act to see what was right in front of him. But I couldn't, so instead, I said, "Yeah, might be nice. If you got the funds and plans."

He nodded, eyes glazed over and lost in thought for a moment, and then he snapped out of it with a whack to my arm. "So, what happened this morning?"

I stretched my arms behind my head and leaned back, my gaze on the ceiling. "Brooke was anxious about her doctor's appointment today, so I told her to sleep over last night since it would make me feel better about it too. I said we'd set an alarm, but I never did."

"And Seb walked in."

"And Seb walked in," I repeated. "I found him at the baseball field. Torn up. I really messed up."

"Hey. Hey." He waited until I looked at him. "You're a good dad."

I pinched the bridge of my nose, and Nate threw his arm around me, patting my back a few times. "He loves you. You raised a great kid. Two great kids."

I sniffed and cleared my throat. "Thanks."

"Love you, man."

"Love you too."

He sat back. "You want me to stick around or…?"

"No. Go do what you need to do. Seb didn't make the travel baseball team either, so…"

He winced. "When it rains, it pours, huh?" He stood with a pat to my leg. "Why don't you come to the bar tomorrow night?"

I shrugged my answer, doubting I'd feel like doing anything in the next few days. He let himself out, and I stretched out on the couch .

Some days I didn't know what the hell I was doing. Today was one of those days.

"Daddy! I need help!"

"Yeah, be right there." I stood with a grunt. I didn't know what I was doing, but I had to keep on going.