“Pesca, what? Oh, that’s her fancy talk, for he don’t eat meat. He’s a boy. A growing boy. Every boy needs meat. Charles was such a wimp. He did whatever Delilah said.” Henry laughed. “I can’t wait!”
Maverick went back outside and got the steaks. He hoped the old man liked them medium. It was the only way he knew how to serve them. When he returned, Henry was at the dining room table with Noah. They were prepared to be done.
“I got baked potatoes and some broccoli that I put in the oven,” Maverick said. “Sorry, nothing too fancy.”
“Butter, sour cream, all of that?” Henry asked. “Not that plant-based stuff or veggie cheese that tastes like cardboard?”
“Ah, yes.”
“Yay!” Henry said to Noah.
“Yay!” Noah cheered and clapped.
“And a beer?” Maverick offered. “I have Michelob and a few Heinekens that Queen left—.”
“I will never leave,” Henry joked. “Give me two!”
“Me too!” Noah said.
Maverick laughed. Henry didn’t strike Maverick as a man that would put up with missing out on the pleasures in his life. Something must have happened for him to be so compliant with his diet.
“Had a stroke and triple bi-pass three years ago. Freaked my girls out. Since then, no salt, no butter, no red meat, no cigars, no fun. The girls won’t let me,” Henry said as if reading Maverick’s thoughts. Maverick brought out the food and drinks. Henry pulled over a chair and sat Noah in it. He pushed it up close to the table. Half of his son's face could be seen. “You sit like a big boy. You, not a baby no more. We men.”
Noah glanced to his grandfather and blinked. He used his little fingers to pull himself up a bit to see what his father was setting upon the table.
“Either Delores is holding him, or Delilah is letting him ride around on his scooter and begging him to eat. If they just sit the boy down, he’d eat.”
“He’s doing fine,” Maverick said and winked at his son.
Henry started fixing his plate. He picked the largest steak. “Don’t forget the cheese. Need that too. And bring out the salt, son. Won’t kill me this once.”
It dawned on Maverick that it could be problematic that he was feeding Delilah’s father all the forbidden foods on her list. But he wasn’t above bribing the old guy if it got him closer to getting in through the front door. “Don’t want any trouble, Henry. If your daughter finds out what was on the menu, I’d get a ticket back to New York.”
“Not anymore. It was in the paper. New York is shutdown. Under quarantine. You can’t go home,” Henry said.
“It’s what?” Maverick asked.
“Yep. You here for a while.” Henry told him. “Got some steak sauce?”
“I think I bought some Heinz,” he mumbled, still in shock over the news.
Henry nodded and grinned. “Love Heinz. Go fetch it for me.”
Maverick went back to the kitchen. At some point, Noah must have escaped his grandfather and the chair. He turned to find his son walking over to the cabinets to search for another pot. He scooped him up and brought him back to the table. To appease Henry, he didn’t put Noah in his lap. He pulled the chair over and let Noah stand. That seems to be ideal for the toddler. Noah picked up his cup, and Maverick cut up the salmon. He pushed the bowl over to Noah with some of the cooled potato mashed inside. His son began to eat with his fingers.
“How is it?” Maverick asked Henry.
“A bit tough. But you alright. You did good, especially with the seasoning,” Henry said.
Maverick chuckled. “Thanks.”
He cut into his steak and had to agree the T-bones were a bit tough. He and Henry both discussed the weather and had small talk about the virus. Then the conversation turned to him.
“You a widow?” Henry asked. He was now on his second beer.
“That’s right,” Maverick replied.
“Must have been hard, losing your wife and your child?” Henry asked.
“Hardest thing I’ve been through in my life. And now I learn that the baby wasn’t mine.”
“Come again?” Henry frowned.
“That clinic experimented with my wife and her invitro process. Put her on meds that she shouldn’t have been taking. She wasn’t inseminated with my sperm. The baby wasn’t mine.”
“Well, I think that’s bullshit,” Henry declared. “She was your wife, wasn’t she?”
“Yes sir, but—.”
“You loved her and that baby. Didn’t you?” Henry asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“Nothing changes that. You were the father that child would have known. Just like Charles was the father Noah would have known. Take a lot more than sperm to make you a dad.”
Maverick had to nod in agreement. He felt a hole in his heart over his beloved wife’s death, and the loss of his child was with him always. He felt robbed. He wanted his happiness back. He wanted the family he was always denied. Could that be the reason he’d become domesticated by a woman he barely knew? Could it be why he loved Noah on sight after spending decades avoiding kids? If Melissa had lived, he would have fought for their child the same way he imagined Charles would have fought for Noah—he imagined.
“So your wife died, did you remarry?” Henry asked.
“No. But I had a relationship. With my partner on the force,” he shared. If Queen had scooped them on his past, he was sure she’d told him all about it.
Henry looked up at Maverick as he cut his steak. “The one Queen said you got killed?”
Bingo! Maverick was right.
“Queen told you about my past, huh? My record?” he asked.
“She did. And, of course, Delores googled the rest. Came to me with some serious accusations against you. Stories of you being a racist cop. Said that people filed civil lawsuits against the police force you belonged to. That stop and frisk stuff you guys did up North, you know what it is. And what I read said you were let off easy over some drug dealers arrests.”
“It was my fault she died. I carry that. It’s why I left the force. But I’m not a racist. I wasn’t a good man either. Took me a long time to work through my issues.”
“And you think you have?” Henry asked.
Maverick looked at Noah, who was now reaching across the table to get more of the broccoli. He was the only kid he knew that liked veggies. He helped give his son what he wanted. This made Noah smile, and Maverick lived for the kids’ smiles. “I think I have the best shot of my life in becoming a better man since I met Noah and Delilah.”
“What my daughter got to do with it? You here for Noah? Right?” Henry asked.
Maverick glanced at the gentleman across from him and didn’t trust his first response. So he thought on his words before he let any slip from his tongue. “I’m here for them both.”
“Oh? Them both? I see,” Henry mumbled.
“She’s a beautiful woman, a good woman. And she’s been really kind to me,” Maverick said.
“Not at first, though. I know she went to New York to make sure you never saw Noah. What changed her mind?” Henry asked. “That’s what I want to know. What made you less racist and her less afraid of you that you ended up here?”