“Different circumstances, sure, but you find yourself in the same situation, right? I mean, here we have a little girl who just discovered she has a daddy. Maybe you should talk to Harley, or maybe it’s not the same for you, but she struggled when I started to become close to Calista. She feared I’d take her away. I could’ve been pissed off at Harley for not trying hard enough to find me, but what would be the point of bringing more animosity into an already difficult situation? Instead we got over our shit, and look, we’re so damn happy we can’t stop having kids.”
“You could slow it down a little.”
He shrugs, and his emerging big smile makes me narrow my eyes. No way Harley is pregnant again?
He holds up his hands. “All I’m saying is the guy did a shit thing, but damn, we’ve all done stupid shit. No one is perfect. But he realized his mistakes and is trying to get on a better path.”
My lips purse. “He left his daughter.”
Rome tilts his head with an expression to say stop being such a martyr. “Technically, you took her from him.”
“Hey, you’re my brother.”
He laughs and holds up his hands again. “Listen, take this advice for what it’s worth. You can do this the long way or avoid more pain and heartbreak and do it the short way.”
“What?”
“Well, you can try to fight your feelings for Jamison if you want—but we’re not stupid, Sedona, you’ve loved that boy your entire life. You didn’t leave him because you stopped loving him. It’s still clear every time you look at him. I know he hurt you—badly—and he needs to make amends with you, but he’s on a better path now.”
I wave my hand to keep the lecture moving.
“All I’m saying is, you can deny your feelings all you want, but I think you’re setting yourself up for failure. No one is going to judge you for loving him.”
I cock an eyebrow.
He crosses his arms. “If Phoenix has a problem, she can talk to me.”
“And King?”
“Kingston is a puppy dog acting like a pit bull. He’ll fold. He views Jamison like a brother. We all kind of do.”
He’s saying what I’ve always known. Jamison has been in and out of my family for so long that those attachments are still there.
“Trust me. For Palmer’s sake, allow him in. You don’t have to get back together with him, but you have to forgive him. If you don’t, Palmer will likely resent you one day for not liking her daddy. She’ll feel it—if she doesn’t see it through body language and the way you two talk to one another.” He’s silent a moment. “You know, it’s funny. When I came back from Europe, I was a little jealous of you and Jamison. You guys had this friendship and respect for one another, along with your relationship. And you were only seventeen. It’s still there. Let him make amends for his bad choices.”
I nod, though I’m unsure if I’m capable of doing it, especially with my hormones all out of whack.
“Now let’s get to the park. Harley’s easygoing, but if she finds out I left three of her kids with a guy who just discovered fatherhood, she might have my balls, and I’m not ready for a vasectomy.” He opens the door and waits for me.
I follow and decide Rome is right. I have to stop living in the past and move forward—for Palmer’s sake at the very least.
Sixteen
Jamison
The rental car place isn’t that busy, thank goodness, because I want to get to the fire station before Kingston goes on shift. Of course it has to be his engine company that offers free car seat installation checks. Yesterday was the perfect opportunity for me to switch out this car, but Sedona needed me, and she’ll always come first now, after Palmer.
When I walk up to the desk, the man who helped me pick out the Camaro two days ago is helping someone else, so I’m left with the woman who looks as though she’d rather be anywhere but here.
“Excuse me, I need to trade this in.” I slide over the keys to the Camaro.
“Is there something wrong?” She doesn’t take the keys.
“No, I just need a different car. A minivan.” I almost choke on the words. I never thought of myself as a minivan guy, but I always see families using them, so I guess they’re best.
She eyes me skeptically. “A minivan?”
“Yes,” I say, mustering confidence, as if I’m committed to this.
The guy who helped me a couple of days ago stares in disbelief from the other side of the counter. He was spitting out stats to convince me that the Camaro was the rental I’d want when I was in here the first time. Not sure why he cared so much, but he was a soccer fan and recognized me. Then I got the dreaded question of “where am I playing this year?” I hate that damn question.
“You want to exchange the Camaro for the minivan?” this employee of the month clarifies.
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
She finally swipes the keys off the counter and enters the numbers on the key chain into the computer. “Not at all. I’m just surprised.”
I tilt my head. “Surprised?”
She types away at the computer. At first, I think she’s going to ignore me altogether, but then she finally speaks. “Most men would never make that swap.”
“Well, minivans are safer, right?”
She shrugs. “I’m not the editor for Consumer Reports.”
Good talk. I rock back on my heels as she processes the transfer.
“Same card?” she asks.
“Yes.”
Her printer whirs and she grabs paper with an angry pull. I’ve obviously caught this lady on a bad day.
She slams the papers on the desk. “Sign here. I don’t suppose you gassed up the car?”
“I did. I actually got it with three-quarters of a tank, but I filled it up at the station on the corner before coming in.”
She smacks on a fake smile. “Oh, would you like a hero cookie?”
What the hell is this lady’s problem?
“Gina,” the guy next to her says with censure.
Yes, Gina, how big is the stick up your ass?
“Do you need me to show you how to use it?” she deadpans, ignoring her coworker.
“I think I can figure it out.” I give her a saccharine smile. “I just need to grab something out of the car.”
“Fine. I’ll follow you.” She walks around the corner, throwing the keys to me.
I don’t catch them in time, and they drop to the floor.
“Good thing you never needed your hands,” she mumbles and walks out the door.
When I meet her at the car, I ask, “Is there a problem?”
She clicks the Camaro open and gestures with her hand for me to get whatever I want. “No problem.”
I grab the car seat box from the passenger seat.
“You have a kid?” she asks. “God help them.”
I drop the box to the ground. “What seems to be the problem here?”
“It’s stars like you who crush kids’ dreams.” Her eyes suggest she’s planning my death or trying to get me to disintegrate right in front of her. “Your posters used to be all over my kid’s walls. The local kid who made it to the MLS. You became his favorite player when he found out you went to Lake Starlight High. Then you go and mess up your opportunity with your little drunk driving stint. I’m not sure when you famous athletes are going to understand how much you’re idolized. How kids live and breathe to be you. And you guys just let fame and fortune go to your heads and forget that you’re subject to the same consequences as the rest of us.”