“Do you love her? For real?”
I drag in a hasty breath, my chest tightening at his words. “I do,” I insist. “I love her very much. And I had planned next week to sit down with you, man to man, and ask you what you think about us being a family.”
“Really?” His little voice sings through the phone and it nearly breaks me in half.
“Really. I love your mom, but she’s your girl. I trust that you know what’s best for her and if you don’t think it’s a good idea, I’ll listen. Because I respect you. But I would love the opportunity to help you take care of her. And, you know, be there for you for the stuff girls suck at.”
“So guy stuff other than baseball?”
I laugh. “Yeah. I’ll use Linc for the baseball stuff because God knows I don’t want to mess you up there.”
I can tell he’s grinning, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Maybe when you get back to town, we can go to dinner, just the two of us, and you can tell me what you think about that, okay?”
“I think it’s a good idea. I need some help with her,” he says, a touch of exasperation in his little voice. “When she cries, I don’t know what to do. I need an adult, and my grandma just cries too, and then I have two crying girls to deal with.”
I wish he was here. But he’s not. And that’s a problem.
“I’ll gladly be your help with her. And if you tell me where you are, I’ll come now.”
He waits a moment before responding. “I can’t tell you tonight. She hasn’t agreed to be a family yet, so, right now, I have to be loyal to her.”
“Promise me one thing, okay?” I ask.
“Sure.”
“If you need anything, if your mom needs anything, you will call me.”
“Okay. But I need to go because she’s getting out of the shower now.”
“Hux?” I say quickly.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for calling me. Call me anytime.”
“Okay,” he smiles. “But I do need to go.”
“Bye, buddy.”
“Bye.”
I end the call and gaze into the night.
Barrett
THE CROWD IS BUZZING BEHIND the closed door. A few people stand in the wings with me, ensuring the main television stations are present and that the journalists that will run the story on me are here. They may as well get the word straight from the jackass’s mouth. Me. That’s how I feel over this situation. It’s time to make things right.
I'm in a black suit, customary red tie and flag pin, and have a bullet-point list of things to say in front of me that I scribbled out in the Rover on the way over here. From now on, I’m going with my gut, speaking from the heart, instead of relying on someone else’s script.
I’ve found some peace since talking to Huxley last night, not as much as if I’d spoken with Ali, but more than I had.
"Are you sure you want to do this? Absolutely sure?" Graham eyes me carefully, sipping on a cup of coffee. He's wearing a suit like mine, blue tie, and a lot more worry lines. He knows what I'm doing, and while I think he disagrees, he's done what I knew he would do—he shut up and got behind me.
"Do I look sure?"
He blows out a breath and slips his phone from his pocket. His face shows a few more lines when he hands it to me. "It's Dad. I'll just step away while you take this."
"Pussy," I grumble, taking the phone and watching him walk away. I scan the immediate area and duck inside a small room to my right. "Hey, Dad."
"Barrett, what in the hell are you doing? I'm on my way over there now after getting a call from Graham. What is this press conference about?"
"I'm taking matters into my own hands."
He sighs, the sound rattling through the phone. "Son, don't go out there and ruin what we've worked for. You are so close, and you can still do this. I don't know what's going on, if you’re cracking under the pressure, but we got this. Just—"
"Hey, Dad?"
"What?"
"Just stop it, all right?"
"Barrett."
"No, seriously. Stop. You know I love you. You know I want to make you proud and do all the things you want me to do."
"Things you want to do."
"Things I want to do," I say, rolling my eyes. "But I also want to do those things my way."
"This can't wait for another couple of days? My Lord, Barrett! Have some sense about you. We’ve already lost Nolan and now you want to go out there and sink the rest of it? Why, son? Why? The election is today!"
I laugh at the fact that I don't feel like I'm letting him down. I don't feel like I'm dropping the line or failing at life. Because I know, without a doubt, that what I'm about to do is the right thing for me. "This is the most sensible thing I've ever done. Trust me."
He doesn't answer, and I know he's trying to wrap his head around the fact that I'm laying down the law. But it was time—we both know it.
Graham waves through the window in the door, and I heave a breath. "Dad, I gotta go."
"I want to talk to you about this later."