Crashed

In a sense I agree with Colton, but at the same time I know I need to address it with Shane, need to tell him it’s not okay and it can’t happen again, even though I know it will. “So how, man-that-used-to-be-a-reckless-teenager, should I handle this best?”

“I’m still reckless, Ry,” he says with amusement in his voice. “That, my dear, will never change. Jax needs to deal with him because he’s not going to listen to you.”

“I beg to differ.” I don’t want the boys to not want to talk to me or listen to me because I’m one of the few female counselors in the house.

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch, Thomas,” he says with a laugh. “I’m not saying you can’t handle it. I’m just saying that he’s going to listen better if it comes from a man.”

“Well, Jax, is at baseball so it has to be me.”

“You’re at the house alone?” I can hear the concern fill his voice immediately, and smile at his sudden need to watch out for me, protect me. It’s quite cute.

“Colton.” I sigh. “There are fifty photographers out front. I’m perfectly fine.”

“Exactly. Fifty photographers that have no fucking business being there except to harass you and the boys. Fucking Christ!” He barks out to himself. “I’m so sick of my goddamn bullshit being on your doorstep.”

“Really, it’s not a—”

“I’ll be there in thirty minutes,” he says and the line clicks dead.

Okay. So he’s coming to deal with the press, which will do no good, and I still have to figure out how to deal with Shane.

Fuck!

“You can play for another hour or so, Scooter, and then we have to head to the field, okay?”

“Yep!” he yells to me as he hustles down the hallway toward the family room where I’m sure Saturday morning cartoons will be in full swing momentarily.

I continue down the hall and stop when I pass Zander and Aiden’s room. Zander’s on the bed, blanket wrapped around his shoulders, precious stuffed dog grasped to his chest, and he is rocking back and forth with his eyes closed. I angle my head, take a step into the room, and watch him for a moment so I can figure out if he’s dreaming or awake. When I step closer, I hear the quiet keening within his chest and then I move on instinct.

“Hey, Zander, you okay, buddy?” I ask gently, as I lower myself ever so slowly onto the mattress next to him.

He just continues rocking but lifts his head up to look at me, tears staining his face and utter heartbreak reflected in his eyes. Because no matter how much time passes, the memories will always be there burrowing their tentacles of destruction as deep as they can so he will never be able to forget. He might be able to move on at some point, but he will never forget.

“I want my mommy,” he whimpers, and if my heart could shatter into a million pieces, it would for this little boy, who I love more than anything.

I ever so slowly pull him into my lap and wrap my arms around him, nestling his head under my neck so he doesn’t see the tears I’m crying for him, his lost innocence, the part of him he’ll forever ache for—his mother.

“I know, buddy,” I tell him as I rock him. “I know. She’d be here if she could. She never would have left you if the angels hadn’t needed her.”

“But—but I need her too …” He sniffs and there is nothing I can say to that. Nothing. So I press a kiss to his head and just hold him tighter, trying to let my love for him ease some of the heaviness in his heart, but know it will never be enough.

We sit there for a bit, him drawing comfort and solace from me as much as I am from him. He calms down some as minutes tick by, my hand smoothing over his hair and back as I try to figure out something to make him smile. “Hey, bud? Colton’s on his way over.”

I feel his body jerk to attention as red-rimmed eyes look up at me. “Really?”

And as if on cue, I hear commotion outside the front of the house. Even with the windows and blinds shut I can hear the purr of an engine, the clicks of the camera shutters, and the questions being called out.

“Yep, in fact I think he just got here.”

Grateful for Colton’s timing and the instant spark it puts in Zander’s eyes, we rise and head toward the front of the house. I make sure the boys are in the family room so when I open the front door, they’re out of the camera lens’ way.

Colton pushes into the narrow opening of the doorway with a muttered curse as the door shuts behind him. He looks at me, lines of frustration etched in his face, and a brown grocery bag propped under his arm. He smiles. “Hey.”

“Hiya, Ace,” I say, stepping toward him to give him a kiss hello but his body stiffens. I immediately step away realizing one of the boys is behind me. Colton is always so aware of them and cautions kissing me in their presence, even a peck on the lips, because he knows how overprotective they are, and he never wants to upset that balance.

“Just kiss her and get it over with!” Scooter’s exasperated voice behind me has Colton and me bursting out laughing as I turn to face him, a smile plastered on my lips.

I feel Colton’s free hand on my lower back as he steps beside me and squats down in front of Scooter. “It’s okay?” he asks the little boy whose eyes have just become the size of saucers. “I mean, it’s not really polite to walk into another man’s house and kiss his girl … but since you’re one of the men in the house, I guess I could kiss her if you tell me it’s okay.”