Page 82 of Truly Forever
“I said friend,son.”
It feels like the room has been filling with a volatile gas and one wrong word could be both the match and the spark that end us all.
My lungs seize at a new thought.Tyler’s mom. I sweep my gaze from corner to corner—but none of the women here quite fits the demographic I’m looking for. Is she outside? Through the window, I see a woman and a couple men lingering on the back porch.
How did I never consider the possibility of John’s ex when I agreed to come? My palms were clammy when we walked in. Now, I swear I feel a drip.
Whimpering, Brayden stretches for his mommy. Oh, I remember these days with Jacob. Precious times.
Precious, horrible times I want to remember and wish I could forget all at the same time.
Dani gathers her son into her arms as she must dozens of times a day.
“I gotta check the grill.” Tyler wheels for the door like he senses the same doom I do. As for me, I suspect he would be the match.
I look up at his father. And John the spark. He’s a man in possession of himself, controlling his tongue, parsing words out only as desired and calculated. The problem is that his definition of the right thing to say often runs counter to what his listeners want to hear.
Dani introduces us around the room. People appear cautiously friendly and possibly curious, but absent the cold edge of the woman who opened the door, Tyler, and an older man glaring from one of the recliners.
“Hello, George.” John extends his arm, quickly sliding his hand into his pocket when it’s rejected.
Dani’s smile is warm yet nervous. “Can I get you guys something to drink?”
We follow her to the kitchen. In the center of the breakfast table, there’s a round cake with blue icing and a toy train engine in its center. Icing tracks circle the top, and a chocolate-icing tunnel is frosted into the side.
Dani is very young yet playing hostess impeccably. She rattles off a list of drink options which include water, two kinds of soda, and beer. Onehanded, she flips up the lid on a cooler.
John spreads his hands. “May I hold Brayden?”
“That would be great.” She plants a kiss on the toddler’s cheek, whispers in his ear, then releases him into John’s arms. The picture the pair makes spreads warmth in my stomach, loosening a knot or two. Jacob barely knows my family, the fault of circumstance rather than family disharmony. Nonetheless, the result is similar. I hope Brayden dodges that fate. Grandparents can be such a blessing.
The toddler hides his face as John coos at him.
Coos. Sorry, boss-man, no other word fits. I bet his agents would pay big money to see this.Oh. I hope he leaves today with a picture of him and his grandson together. I’ll take it myself if the moment ever feels appropriate.
Dani hands me a bottle of water, wet with heavy condensation. She uncaps the lid on John’s, then holds onto it and watches. Her smile is mingled with a touch of sadness.
When Brayden reaches for her, she kisses his cheek. “Mommy has to help Daddy outside.” She looks up. “John, he’s got a train set in the dining room. He loves that thing. You can sit with him while he plays.”
It’s a nice plan, but children, especially ones being left by their mother in the arms of a stranger, don’t always see things the same way.
I’m pleasantly surprised and happy to be wrong when Brayden takes to his wooden toy as if playing with it is what he wanted all along. John, next to his grandson, rests back on his hands, taking the moment in. I snap a candid shot.Yes.
John startles, growing a smile when he realizes what I’ve done.Thanks, he mouths. He tousles Brayden’s hair. “I guess this brings back memories for you?”
Oh, yes. Good and bad. I was a messy heap of love and adoration—and half-crazy—at the time. I loved my son with burning devotion. Nearly equal to that love was a horror I never could fully shake, try and pray as I might. How the two mindsets were able to coexist I’ll never understand.
“Hollie?”
John’s baritone pulls me back. “Um, yes. Memories.”
His head tilts.
“Jacob’s train phase was brief. Cars were more his thing.”
John’s nod is slow and thoughtful.
I hurry us along. “I suppose this is like déjà vu for you, too.”