Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89350 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 447(@200wpm)___ 357(@250wpm)___ 298(@300wpm)
“Look. No offense, man, but I’ve been around these kids a lot. Danielle and Cal relied on me all the time.” Probably more than they should have, but he wasn’t getting into that now. “I’m not abandoning them.”
And he didn’t like Mark’s assumption that he’d be in charge going forward one iota either. Dude needed to take a huge step back. These were Isaiah’s kids now.
“Don’t you need to be at a job or something?”
“Just graduated with the winter term class. As it happens, I’m somewhat...between gigs.”
“Congrats. What’s this one in?” Mark’s voice was dry enough to tell Isaiah that Cal had been complaining again about how Isaiah couldn’t pick a major and stick with it. Like it wasn’t bad enough that he heard that lecture from his father every time they spoke, which wasn’t often. Not everyone could be like Cal, who’d always known he wanted to make money, and who had gone into investment banking because that’s what all Danielle’s rich friends did.
“Horticulture. Took some time off, nothing really grabbed at me. Did some work outdoors with a landscaping company. Started taking classes at City College. Liked it enough to get the certificate.”
“What’s your dad think of that?” Mark considered him over the rim of his coffee cup.
Liam let out a squawk from his perch on Isaiah’s back. “No!”
“Pretty much that.” Isaiah laughed, which felt weird, like flexing a muscle he hadn’t used lately. “Like I’m a waste of a biology degree, an art history minor, a gender studies certificate, and a fast ticket to grad school for abnormal psych. We don’t talk much these days.” He bounced from side to side, trying to keep Liam happy. Sometimes the kid conked out and took a nap in the backpack, which was nice. “Anyway, right now, I can just focus on the kids. And helping you.”
Mark raised his eyebrows like he had a lot more to say on the topic, probably all macho bullshit about how he didn’t need help, but the girls both came running in. “We’re hungry!”
And tough. Mark might be a SEAL out there, but here, this was Isaiah’s house now, his family, and like it or not, Mark was going to have to deal with him, play by his rules.
* * *
The keys to Mark’s father’s BMW hung on the same rack in the garage where they’d been since Mark could remember. Danielle had never gotten around to selling the car, which was the same one Mark had learned to drive on. And it saved him from having to borrow Isaiah’s little sedan, which was parked in the driveway. He’d had a clean uniform with him, so he’d ditched Isaiah’s clothes in favor of that for the trek to the base. He’d need to grab some more civvies for hanging out with the kids.
The kids. Fuck. For the hundredth time since he’d heard the news, the thought of them made his insides quake. What happens now? Mark hated not knowing, hated not having a plan, and really hated that Isaiah seemed to already have one, installing himself for the duration, not rushing back to his partying and friends like Mark had expected.
Not that Mark was really that eager to be alone with the kids. But he didn’t like how damn comfortable and competent Isaiah had seemed that morning. Mark wasn’t exactly sure why Isaiah was pissing him off so much, just that he was. So it was good to get out of the house before he said something he’d regret.
He showed his ID at the security checkpoint, then headed to the barracks. Felt weird being back after several months away. A lot of their deployments were shorter, but this last one had been a slog. He hadn’t had much notice before they’d shipped out, so the room was exactly as he’d left it, even down to the half-drunk water bottle on his desk. He pitched that right away and made his bed next, some bizarre impulse to set the space to rights driving him. Tore off the old sheets of calendar pages for the weeks he’d missed, straightened his books, and finally when the tiny space felt familiar again, he hauled out a bag from the closet to start packing.
“Wizard!” A knock came at the door.
Mark recognized Bacon’s voice so he yelled back, “It’s open.”
“Heard you were back.” Bacon was on a different SEAL team, but lived down the hall in this same barracks building. “Heard about your sister and brother-in-law. Man, that’s rough. What can I do?”
“Thanks.” Mark accepted a pat on the back from Bacon. “I think I’ve got it under control.”
Bacon shook his head like he could see straight through Mark’s lies. “When is the service? Got your uniform ready?” He headed for Mark’s closet, not waiting for directions. “How about I iron and polish while you pack? You’ll want the full dress blue, right?”