THEY STOPPED AT Caden’s house so he could change into his bathing suit. He’d gotten a sweet deal on the three-bedroom rambler, built at the end of a cul-de-sac and just a few blocks from the bay. Since he moved in, he’d had the hardwood floors replaced, renovated the kitchen, and painted the house top to bottom. He had simple taste, and as he watched Bella’s eyes moving from the brown sectional to the built-in bookshelves, where they lingered on the titles, then circled back to the glass coffee table, and finally landed on the frames on the mantel, he wondered what she was thinking.
She walked over to the mantel and took down a picture of him and Evan. It was taken at Evan’s sixth birthday party, and it was one of Caden’s favorite photos. Evan’s eyes were wide and his gap-toothed grin was so innocent. The image still tugged at Caden’s heartstrings. His hair was long and curly around his sweet little-boy face.
He moved behind Bella and looked over her shoulder. “Good times.”
“I’m glad he met some kids today.”
“Yeah. Me too. It’s a weird feeling to let him go off by himself with a new crowd, but he’s going to be fifteen soon, and if I parent him too much, he’ll be an outcast. Too little will open the door to delinquency.”
“At least you care,” she said. “There are a lot of parents who don’t. They leave the kids to video games and the Internet and never even check in on them. It’s nice that you spend time together.”
“It’s nice for me. Sometimes I feel like I’m forcing myself on him.”
She smiled, like she completely understood. “That’s what being a teenager is all about. They’re so confused all the time, so it’s only natural for their parents to be confused, too. I say, give them rope. Tug them in when they need it, and give ’em more rope when they earn it. If they don’t hang themselves, you’ve done well. If they do, then you probably still did well, but you missed a hint of trouble along the way.”
She set the frame back on the mantel and looked at the others. When she continued, her tone was serious but cushioned with compassion.
“What’s most important is that if you did miss something, you don’t leave him hanging until his eyes pop out and he can’t find his way back. You lift him up by the bootstraps and kick him in the butt—figuratively, not literally. Walk with him down a better path. Give him the tools he needs and the understanding to become a better person. Teach yourself to become a better parent; then you both move forward together. A little bruised, a little embarrassed, but whole.” She shrugged as if she hadn’t just said something that made his world spin.
You’re amazing. How could a woman who had never been a parent know so much about raising children? “You’re wise and beautiful. That’s a lethal combination.” He felt himself opening up to Bella in so many ways, and after keeping those parts of himself closed off for so long, he wondered if she could feel it, too.
“That’s kind of why I’m working on this work-study project for the high school.”
He made a mental note about her needing to skirt around compliments and tried again to see if he’d read her discomfort correctly.
“Because you’re wise and beautiful?” he teased.
Her cheeks flushed. “Because idle hands lead to trouble, and a lot of parents don’t have the income to send their kids to college. So the more kids I can help gain experience in trades, or secure jobs for after graduation, the better chance they’ll have at a meaningful future. Whether that’s through more schooling that the companies subsidize, or through stronger self-esteem and pride in what they accomplish…” She shrugged. “The path they take doesn’t matter, as long as they get there.”
“Your passion for helping kids makes you even more beautiful.” He couldn’t keep the compliment to himself. It was true, and he wanted her to know that. He knew he was pushing, maybe a little too hard, given her wrinkled brow, but he wanted to find out what had caused her to disbelieve compliments, and he wanted to ease the hurt of whatever it was. He moved a little closer, and heat flared in her eyes. She shifted them away and picked up another frame.
She studied the picture of him and George, arm in arm, dressed in their uniforms. It was taken the week before he was killed. George was a stocky man with skin as dark as night and piercing coal-black eyes that could make a criminal wet his pants or a woman melt, depending on the look he slayed them with. He had a laugh that rumbled from deep in his gut, and he was the best friend a man could have.
“Was this your partner?”
Was. Caden’s throat thickened. “Mm-hm. George.”
Her eyes remained on the photo, but she wrapped one arm around Caden’s waist and hugged him close. She stayed there for a beat, with her cheek pressed to his chest and her eyes on the man who had meant so much to him. In that silence, he realized how much he longed to share the pieces of himself that he’d kept bottled up for too long.
The feel of her body against him remained as she moved away and scanned the other photos.
“Are these your parents?” Bella pointed to the picture of his parents, each holding one of four-year-old Evan’s hands.
“Yeah. They live in Boston.” He made a point of taking Evan back every two or three weeks to visit his parents, and they were due to make another trip soon.
“They must really miss him.”
Bella was an interesting mix of brazenness and tenderness, and when she gazed up at him with eyes full of compassion, he felt another emotion that he hadn’t felt in a very long time. The urge to climb into a woman’s inner circle and allow her into his. He took a step closer and tucked her hair behind her ear.
“They do miss him, and I think he misses them, too.” Caden missed this—talking to a woman about things that mattered. Wanting to share them with her and wanting to know more about her and her life. Was she running from someone painful in her past? If so, who was important enough for her to box herself off like she was trying so hard to do? Or was her decision to move as simple as she’d said—a life change she wanted to make? He was no stranger to running from pain. In fact, he’d done it for years. He’d run from the pain of Caty leaving, not so much for him, but for Evan, but he’d had Evan to love and nurture and fill those empty spaces that could have eaten him alive. What did Bella do with all those empty spots she was walling off, and why did he want to be the glue that held her together?