Page 47 of For the Record
I wasn’t entirely clueless as a child. I’d witnessed my father working crazy hours and Mom complaining about them both piling on shifts. Katherine and I took the bus most days, and every now and then, my grandmother would come into town to watch us for a long weekend so Dad could finish up a project on a jobsite. Of course he didn’t have time for stuff like this, and since he’d started slipping, he rarely got out of his complex unless I took him somewhere or his old SEAL buddies came to see him.
Guilt whirled its way inside of me, a deep, guttural pain behind my chest. I mean, the guy didn’t have to buy a chinchilla, but he could have at least done a couple of these. And yet he sacrificed everything he had for me and my unworthy family. And now he was living this lost life that somehow made him happy. Yet he had no idea how much he was missing out on.
“What’s that?”
Adam’s rumble from the doorway caused my back to straighten. I hadn’t heard him come back from his run.
I twisted my shoulders to look at him. Thankfully he wore a shirt today. Probably figured out it would be best to do so as long as I was here. But his shorts were an inch or two shorter than yesterday’s. His strong, thick thighs were on display, and those weren’t exactly helping me focus either.
Adam’s chin dipped, his eyes focused on the open notebook in my lap.
“Oh. It’s Dad’s bucket list. I found it in an old box of his stuff.”
“Hmm?” He said it more like a question, so I went on.
“Yeah, but the only one checked off on the whole list is Become a parent.”
He nodded and dipped his head down the hallway. “I got some food. You want to bring it in here and eat?”
I was starving, and since I’d run out of my favorite flour, I hadn’t made a sourdough-inspired breakfast this morning. My stomach growled at the thought of whatever Adam had in there. I agreed, walking into his kitchen and taking my seat at the island. He had a dining table, but somehow, we always managed to find our way here to eat instead. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he sat at his dinner table every night before I arrived. It seemed very Adam-like.
He pulled out two plates and then set a bag from Marlo’s next to it, reaching in to grab an apple cider doughnut. “They didn’t have your cinnamon rolls. But Layla likes these, so I figured you might.”
I smiled up at him. “Thanks, Adam. That was really sweet.”
As I ate, Adam looked over the bucket list I’d found, his eyes scanning each item one at a time and then repeating it again.
He tapped his long fingers against the book, his golden band catching the light and refracting it onto the leather-bound backing. “So he never got to do any of these?”
“Nope. Too busy working and being a dad, I guess.”
He nodded. Adam saw how much time and effort his brother Liam put into being a father. Even watching his nephews on occasion was proof enough that parenthood itself was taxing.
“Did you ask him about it?”
“No. I just now found it, and even if I wanted to ask him, it might make him upset. Or make him realize how even though he’s happy, he didn’t get to do a lot of things he hoped to in life.” My shoulders fell at the thought.
Adam looked back down at the list as I polished off the last of my doughnut.
“What if…we do them? Like for him?” he suggested.
A chortle left me. “How are we going to find the time to”—I looked over his arm at the paper—“run a freaking triathlon? I barely could even do a 5k.”
“I could train you.”
He said it like it was the simplest thing in the world. As if we would drop everything going on around us and run off into the sunset like a couple of regular Forrest Gumps.
“Adam, you’re gone all the time. I don’t really see that happening.”
His throat cleared, the base of it turning this warm red as he popped his knuckles. Anxious Adam. It was rare for me to see that side of him. Adam was sure about everything around him.
“I was going to talk to you about that today…I talked to my boss on base and mentioned that my…” He looked above me. “That my father-in-law and wife needed me close, so…I’m here. For the summer at least.”
An entire summer of Adam? Full of sourdough bread and flower surprises, apple cider doughnuts and late-night talks?
A smile spread across my lips at the thought. “The whole summer?”
Adam smiled right back, like he could see through me. “Till the first week of September. I will have to go away for a while after, but until then, I’m yours.”