Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 57908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
“You okay?” I asked.
“Can I ask you something, Dom?”
I stepped into his room and sat on the bed. “Anything.”
He fiddled with his comforter, looking upset.
“What is it?”
“I keep remembering things. Like the swing. Did we go to the beach once?”
“A few times. You loved the water. I used to have to drag you out of it to eat a sandwich.” I laughed as a memory hit me. “Once, I gave up, and we sat in the water, eating your favorite—peanut butter and banana sandwiches—and you dropped it into the water and plucked it out and ate it anyway, sand and all, before I could stop you. Your mother gave me shit about that for days,” I said with a chuckle. “I put the umbrella over you, and you played in the water for hours with your trucks and pail. Ate your snacks there, everything. You cried so hard when it was time to go.”
“We never go to the beach now,” he said.
“We can. Summer is coming.”
“You have a meeting with Mom and the judge next week. She told me.”
I met his gaze. “I’m asking for more time with you, Josh. If you want that.”
I explained Halton’s idea and let him think about it. “If every weekend is too much, I understand. I know you must miss spending time with your friends—”
He interrupted me. “Not really. I see them at school, and Mom isn’t big on having them over. I told you that before. I like coming here.” He paused. “I like Cherry.”
“She is pretty awesome.”
He played with his comforter again. “I like you too,” he said softly.
“Good. I like you a lot, Josh. I know you’re not ready to hear that I love you, but you’re my son, and I do.”
For a moment, there was silence. “Did you really try to find me? You didn’t forget about me the way Mom said?”
“I never forgot about you—not for a single day.”
He frowned, and I stood. “Just wait a moment.”
I left the room and returned with the small box Halton had given back to me. I handed it to him, and he opened it, looking at the envelopes.
“What is it?” he asked.
“Every letter and card I sent you that was returned. And ones I wrote and never sent since I didn’t know where you were.”
“There’re so many.”
“One for every birthday and Christmas. Plus some others.”
“You kept them?”
“I always hoped I could give them to you one day.”
“Can I read them?”
“They’re yours.”
He flicked through a couple envelopes. “I don’t know where to start.”
“Why don’t you keep them for a while, then decide. I can put them in your closet, and when you’re ready, they’ll be waiting.”
He paused, then opened one, scanning the childish card and chuckling over the twenty-dollar bill inside. He traced the “Love, Daddy” at the bottom.
“I always liked trucks,” he said.
“I know.”
He tucked the money back into the box but put the card on his nightstand. “Thanks,” he said. “I think I’ll open them one at a time.”
“Sounds good.” I took the box and slid it into his closet. “You gonna sleep now?”
“Yeah. Night, Dom.”
“Night.”
“Dom?” he called as I got to the door.
“Yeah?”
“I’d like to be here more, so I’ll talk to Mom, okay?”
“Whatever you want. Any time I get with you is a bonus.”
He grinned. “I think so too.”
I sat with Halton, the judge, and Roxanne. I was surprised not to see her lawyer. I was even more shocked when she asked to speak. The judge nodded, and I braced myself for her words. She looked directly at me.
“Josh wants to spend more time with you. I’ll agree to the extended visitation. No fighting.”
“Why?” The word was out of my mouth before I could stop it.
She sighed. “Because I see the difference in him. He’s happier. Doing better at school. Him coming for the weekends works for now, but it isn’t a permanent solution.”
“I know. We can address that at a later date. I just want to know my kid, Rox.” The nickname I used to call her slipped out without thinking. It surprised me. It surprised her.
For the first time, she met my eyes, no hatred blazing from them. She looked resigned. Weary.
“And you should. Regardless of how awful we were, you were always a good dad. I remembered how good you were when I saw your text to Josh telling him to be nicer to me because I looked tired. I had yelled at you, yet you were kind.”
I sat back in amazement.
She cleared her throat. “There is something else. I’m sick.”
“Sick?”
“I have cancer. I start chemo next week. There may be times I need, ah, help.”
“What about John?”
She rolled her eyes. “He walked. He said he didn’t need a sick woman and a pesky teenager. So, it’s just Josh and me.”
“I’m sorry,” I said sincerely. “Whatever I can do to help, let me know. We can take him or come help. Whatever you need.”