I grin like a fool.
“Nah, son. Not mad at all.” I give his hip a squeeze where I’ve got a grip on him to keep him balanced. “Just happy you’re safe. You ended up in a rotten situation when your phones didn’t work, and you did the smartest thing you could. You kept your heads on. You stayed put, you stayed safe, and you looked out for each other.” I squeeze my son again to drive the words home. “I’m proud of you both. You’re growing up fast.”
Eli lets out a choked sniffle, and it’s not hard to tell he’s using the rain to hide his tears.
He’s such a good boy.
I really am proud of him, but more than anything, I’m happy as hell to have my family back together.
Even if there’s an ache that says it’s still missing a crucial piece.
Yeah, when I get back, me and Fliss need to talk.
I need to get over my idiotic fears that every woman who comes near me might hurt my son.
That never happened here. None of it was her fault. I let my worst nightmares have free rein.
I just hope she’s okay and I haven’t torn up her heart too bad when I was piss-scared for Eli’s safety.
“Mr. Charter?” Tara asks.
“Yeah, kidlet?”
“...why do you call Eli ‘polecat?’”
Eli stiffens on my shoulder.
“Dad, no,” he whispers.
I grin, angling my head to see him.
“You really don’t want me to tell her? It’s a cute story.”
“Dad! I’m not cute!”
Tara pouts—and it’s deliberate enough that I can already tell she’s learned how to be a little heartbreaker.
“I think you are,” she says. “I want to hear a cute story about Eli.”
“Oh, God.” He groans, then smacks a hand into his face, probably to hide that burning red blush racing up to his scalp like a thermometer. “...whatever, but I’m not telling it.”
I bite back my laugh.
My son’s such a goner.
I’m thinking this story might be the perfect comic relief right now, and I don’t care if I sound like a soppy dad.
Not with how happy I am to have them in my arms, safe and sound and on our way back to civilization, a slow steady march where I’m ever mindful of the slippery mud.
“When Eli was five, he climbed trees like a cat,” I say, a grin plastered to my face. “Everybody was always begging him to come down because he’d get up just high enough where we couldn’t reach, and then he’d smile down, giggling like it was the world’s funniest joke while we were panicking. Little brat.”
“Thanks, Dad,” Eli says dryly.
“It’s true.” I chuckle. “But one day—I don’t know if someone snuck him sugar or what—he just got into everything. It was raining that day and the backyard was a mud pit, and he’d rolled around and gotten himself covered from head to toe. Little dirt baby, mud all over, and then he went climbing right up his favorite oak tree. While his mom was standing down there begging him to come down and I was looking for a path up that wouldn’t break under my weight, he decided he was coming down his way, on his terms. He came, all right, skidding down the trunk like it was a slide. Swiped all the mud right off his back till it was the only clean spot on his body. Just this one stripe right down his spine.”
“Ohhh,” Tara says. “Like a skunk. A polecat.”
“Exactly.”
“Sounds like I could learn a thing or two about climbing trees from you,” she whispers.
“Yeah.” Eli’s oddly quiet, though. Then he murmurs, “Mom was actually the one who first started calling me that, wasn’t she?”
I pause, turning the question over, my mind back in the distant past.
“Yeah,” I say finally.
A lot of times, I forget that.
My time with Katelyn ended in such flames I’ve spent years running from it, desperate to make sure the poison can’t creep back in my memories.
And I forget that once, there used to be good days. Warm days. Happy days. It’s easier to face that, now, somehow.
I wonder if this is what closure feels like.
What it feels like to be ready to move on.
To sort the good from the bad with the past, to bury it honorably, to start over with a woman who’ll bring the sunny days back to us, and who won’t blow our world to kingdom come like my dead ex-wife.
Eli’s hand grips at my arm and he leans his lips to my ear. “Uh, you don’t really have to stop calling me that. I just...you know. I like to remember the fun stuff, Dad.”
“Yeah?” I look up at him with a smile and squeeze him closer. “Me too, polecat. Me too.”
I also want to get them home, fixed up, and find that girl I’m aching to forge fun new memories with like nothing else.
I want to make it right with Felicity and let this latest scare be our last big disaster.
23
Gold Digger (Felicity)
It’s been hard pretending everything’s normal today when it’s anything but.
What does normal even look like when we’ve got two missing kids?
Most of my customers are coming in for top-ups on the caffeine they need to keep themselves sharp and moving, all compliments of The Nest when I feel like it’s the only thing I can do to help.
Lunches, too, help make sure everyone participating in the search stays well fueled. Half of my part-timers are brewing huge vats of extra-strength joe and the others man the sandwich assembly line with me, working their fingers to the bone.
Then, sometime in the early afternoon, Blake comes busting in.
So breathless, so tense, for a moment the blood leaves my face.
But I realize he’s grinning...isn’t he?
He’s panting with the rush of relief as he proclaims, “We found ’em, folks! Tara’s got a nasty sprain, but they’re just fine.”
The Nest is almost too small to contain the explosion of euphoria that rips from every mouth in the room.
People who’d been as grey as the rain light up in awesome technicolor, grabbing each other, hugging, some of them even crying with relief.
I’m in the thick of it, my staff jostling me and each other with pure joy. Even I’m close to breaking into tears.
But you’d better believe I can’t stop grinning.
I’m glad.
I’m so glad.
Especially since it means I was wrong, and Paisley doesn’t have Eli. Hasn’t hurt him. Won’t ever get the chance to hurt him or Tara.
What I’ve set in motion now can’t be stopped.
It’s still the right thing to do, a way to stop the danger I’ve inflicted on the town.
I can’t exactly text Paisley and say, Oops, never mind. Turns out you didn’t have the kids after all. Deal’s off, stay home, forget what I said about payback. Ha ha, just kidding, please don’t kill me.
And even if I know Eli and Tara are safe...
It still needs to happen.
No more excuses.
No delays.
I can’t explain how Eli’s come to mean so much to me. This sweet, attentive kid who loves photography like magic. I care about him like he’s my own family, and it finally makes sense.