Scott shook it. “A worse offense than actually being late, right, Dad?”
His father immediately frowned, making Scott wish he hadn’t been so fast with the comeback. But, damn, his father always had something negative to say about whatever he was doing or not doing. No way to win.
“Now, John, don’t tease Scott.”
“I wasn’t—”
“He wasn’t—”
Father and son exchanged uneasy glances before looking away.
“Please come in and relax. We’re waiting for your father’s sisters, and cousins Edward and Sharon. And, of course, Ashley and Teddy’s brood before we get started.” His mother waved a hand toward the kitchen table that all but groaned under the weight of dishes waiting to be served. She was prepared to serve an army. “Would you like a beer?”
“Maybe later.”
“Come through.” His father turned and headed toward the living room. Scott joined him.
His mother followed. “What do you hear from Nicole?”
His father rolled his eyes. “Now why would he hear from her, Cathy?”
“You never know.” His mother smiled at him. “I did so hope you two might, well, talk things out after a while.”
“If he hasn’t heard from her by now it’s because she has nothing more to say to him. He screwed up and made certain of that.”
“Thanks for the benefit of the doubt, Dad.” Scott held back the sharper words that came to mind. His father didn’t even know exactly what had happened between them, yet he’d come to the conclusion that it was Scott’s fault, and it was unforgivable.
“John, that’s not fair. When two people love each other the way they do … did…” She glanced at Scott for help.
Scott retreated to the safety of professional detachment. “Leave it, Mom. Please.”
He sat on the family room sofa opposite his father’s well-worn leather recliner. He looked around, hoping desperately for some topic of interest to appear. Not sports. His father was a Giants and Yankees fan while he had long ago moved to the Redskins and Orioles camp.
“Just to spite the old man,” Gabe had once declared in front of them. Not true, but Scott saved his breath. Gabe had said it, it was now fact.
“So, sixty years.” Scott nodded slowly. “That’s some achievement, Dad. Anything left on your bucket list?”
“I thought I’d be a grandfather by now.” John’s voice rose in challenge. “You were supposed to make me a grandfather.”
The jab hurt. It was supposed to. Scott, even knowing better, shot back. “What made you think that was going to happen?”
“Nicole promised us.”
“John!” His mother looked thoroughly put out by her husband’s disclosure.
Scott felt his stomach drop into his shoes. “When did Nikki say that?”
His father merely hunched a shoulder and looked away.
His mother frowned, biting her lip. “The last time we were all together for Thanksgiving. At your little apartment in D.C. At first we thought Nicole was teasing us. But she looked so pleased with herself. So then, well, we decided you two were waiting to make the big announcement official when you came up here at Christmas. But then, things didn’t … work out.”
Scott was still waiting to reach bottom as his thoughts were in freefall. “There was no baby. You misunderstood.”
“Wishful thinking, I guess.”
His mother glanced at her husband, and Scott caught the disappointment in her eyes. They had hoped to be grandparents and once again he had let them down. The cold queasy feeling of failure slithered through him.
He quashed it, replacing that emotion with annoyance with Cole for leading them on. He raked a hand through his hair. “I don’t understand why she would make that promise, even in jest.”
His mother’s face filled with sympathy. “Maybe, Scott, because she wanted it to become the truth. She was ready to start thinking about a family.”
“Maybe she would have told you what she was thinking if you’d been around long enough to listen.” His father looked on with a fault-finding gaze. “Nothing was more important than what you wanted. You didn’t even make it through carving the Christmas turkey. One text and you’re out the door, leaving your wife to serve the meal by herself. Typical of you in those days. So self-absorbed you couldn’t see past your nose.”
“I was working twenty-four-seven. Nikki understood that.”
“So you say.”
“John, please.” Cathy laid a hand on her husband’s thigh.
“Fine. But the truth is you left that girl on her own too damned much while you rode around on that damned bike, pretending to be, what? What was it that was so damned important?”
“I was SWAT, Dad. I had people whose lives depended upon me showing up, ready, at a moment’s notice.”
“That’s right. Your father just means that we loved Nicole. She was just naturally part of the family from the beginning.”
“Best thing that ever happened to you was her. You should have held on to her.”