“This is Connor. He’s my son.”
CHAPTER 9
LITTLE TROUBLE
ADAM
Son. He’s my son.
Rosie is a mama.
Her eyes close as she presses a kiss to his forehead, and when she looks at me, beyond the pride, the love, I see the hesitation, like she’s worried what this might mean for us. I see the bleakest spot of grief, like she’s already accepted my decision, already said good-bye.
But I don’t like good-byes, and I’m certainly not willing to make her one.
I crouch next to Connor and smile. “Hi, Connor. I’m Adam.”
“Dada.” He pats my hand, then Rosie’s thigh. “Mama.”
“Oh my gosh.” Rosie’s face burns red. “I’m so sorry. It must be a new phase.”
Connor points down the hall. “Walk?”
“Are you and Mama going for a walk? Can I come too?”
He grins, so toothy and innocent, and he’s got the same splattering of tiny freckles across his teensy nose as his mom. “Walk.”
“We’re walking over to the park,” Rosie says, setting her backpack in the wagon. “You don’t have to come with us.”
“I’d love to, thank you.”
Her jaw drops. “I…well…but do you…” She gives up on words, choosing instead to twine her pastel waves around her finger.
“Unless you don’t want me to. Is that what you were wanting to talk to me about? That you don’t want to see me anymore?”
She frowns. “Of course I want to see you.”
“Great.” I plop her hat on her head. “The hat trick worked. Let’s go.” I take her hand, grab the handle of the wagon, and start pulling both green-eyed cuties toward the elevator. “So what did you want to talk to me about then?”
Rosie’s eyes drop to Connor. When they come back to me, the look she gives me says she’s not sure I’m all there. “That I have a son? You know, in case that wasn’t something you wanted in your life.”
“Why would that matter?”
She stares at her feet, tugs at her oversized T-shirt. “It matters to a lot of people.”
The whispered words are carved in heartache, so I squeeze her hand and promise, “It doesn’t matter to me. Now I get two for the price of one.”
Her gaze rises, moving cautiously between mine. “You really mean that?”
“I know this is new, that we haven’t known each other for long, but I feel something here. I’d like to explore it with you. Is that what you want too?”
“Yeah. It is.”
“Then let’s spend some time together. We can move at whatever speed you’re comfortable with. I’m in no rush; I just want to keep getting to know you. You make me smile.”
She grants me one right here and now, bright enough to rival the July sunshine. “You make me smile too.”
“Brum-brum !” Connor shouts from behind us, pointing at a truck that whizzes down the street. “Tuck! Brum-brum !”
“That’s his engine noise. You should see him when a bus drives by. Loses his ever-loving mind.”
I park the wagon beneath the shade of a tree on the outskirts of the empty park, and we follow along as Connor tears over to the play equipment, yelling, “Pak! Pak!”
“How old is he?”
“Fifteen months. He was born in April last year.” She watches me out of the corner of her eye as Connor slips his hand into hers, climbing onto the small platform, leading to the slide. “Do you like kids?”
“I love kids. I do a bit of volunteering with some vulnerable ones.”
Her smile is soft, curious gaze raking over me. “That’s awesome, Adam.”
I shrug. “It’s nothing.” It’s not nothing. The Family Project, my fundraising events for Second Chance Home, brings in hundreds of thousands of dollars each year, helps fund their center, and brings new families together. It’s my pride and joy, my greatest accomplishment, and I like to keep it close to my heart.
“Dada !”
“Oh for God’s—Connor, this is Adam.” Rosie pats my chest. “A-dam.”
Connor blinks at her. Looks at me. Back to Rosie, then me. He points at the slide. “Dada, s-ide?”
Rosie buries her face in her hand. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” I start climbing onto the platform. “You want some help getting to the top, buddy?”
His fingers grasp mine, and I look down at the connection. His hand is so tiny, all his fingers wrapped around my pinky, and when he tugs me along behind him, I’m struck by the warm, tight feeling in my chest.
At the top of the slide, Connor pauses. “Dada, baby, s-ide.”
Rosie snickers. “Oh, baby. I’m not sure Adam can fit down the slide.”
My brows skyrocket. “He wants me to…?”
“Mhmm.”
“But I…” That little blue slide is narrow as fuck. I’m a fairly confident guy and I don’t turn down most challenges, but this…I don’t know about this. A lifetime of skating has given me what I’ve gracefully dubbed as a hockey butt. Hockey butts…they don’t fit down kids’ slides. “I’m sorry, buddy.” I glance over my shoulder, down at my own ass. “I don’t think…well, the thing is…”
“Adam’s got a bubble butt,” Rosie tells him seriously, as if he can understand the meaning behind her words. Her playful gaze rises to mine. “It’s perfect, by the way, and I’ve caught myself staring at it way too often, but don’t let it go to your head.”
The corner of my mouth lifts, exploding into a slow grin. “Too late. I can feel my head getting bigger by the second.” I lift my arms overhead with an exaggerated groan. “All right, buddy. Let’s do this. Let’s see if my perfect bubble butt gets us down this slide.” I scoot around him, wedge my hips between the plastic, and Connor squeals, launching himself into my lap. Pressing his back to my chest, I wrap my arms around him. “Ready?”
I push away from the slide, starting our descent.
It’s…
Entirely underwhelming. What the fuck.
I wiggle my hips as rigorously as I can, trying to gain momentum. Connor doesn’t seem to mind, giggling and screeching away, and best of all? I’ve never heard Rosie laugh like that before.
It’s beautiful and airy, so carefree and wild, letting me see how heavy it had been, the weight of wondering how I’d react to her having a son. I’d give anything to capture this moment in a photo, because right now, I see all of her, but more than that, I’ve found her.
I wonder if she’ll find me too.
We make it to the end of the eight-foot slide after twenty-five grueling seconds, and the second my butt hits the wood chips, Connor’s pulling me right back up. We ride it again and again, until he switches to the swing, and eventually Rosie has to pry him away for lunch.
Beneath the shade of a tree, Rosie unpacks sandwiches, fruits, and muffins from her bag. “It’s simple today.” She holds out a container of sandwiches. “PB banana.”