Page 10 of Her Faithful Protector

“Morgie, tell me, what did he say when you gave the sketch to him?” I finally have the courage to ask her the question. When I drew it, it was really my heart that penciled every stroke. It was how I saw him, how I remembered him. The fear of rejection held me back from ever discovering his reaction.

“He asked why you were too chicken to give it to him yourself.”

“Come on, I’m serious.”

“He didn’t say anything. But his eyes did. He was torn. I tried to nudge him, hoping to change his mind about moving to Hawaii. I sought his brother’s assistance to convince him to join Red Mark so he could be in Helena and have a chance to reconnect with you. But his loyalty remained with the Marine Corps.”

I let out a hopeless sigh. “I miss him. But life is life. I have to put Quinton first. Jack is just a dream.”

“Well, he won’t be for much longer. He’ll walk through that door in a few hours. And when he does, tell him. Don’t make any excuses, like you won’t do it because the guy has to express his love first. I know you’re not that kind of woman.”

I shake my head. “There’s something about him that makes me kind of…sad. Not just because of the tragedy he had to endure as a child.” I pause, unable to fathom his plight, being taken away from his family when he was only seven. “There’s something else. I’m usually good at reading people, but with Jack, I don’t know what to expect from him.”

“You’ll never figure out a man, Ave. You just have to take the ride and navigate every turn with him, impromptu.”

“Geez, Morgie. You sound like you’ve aged ten years! What has Tyler done to you?”

“In a good way, right? Ty has done wonders for me. He annoys me sometimes, especially with his tardiness. I understand, though. His job isn’t the nine-to-five kind. And neither is mine, for that matter. But I love him—everything about him, including the surprises—good or bad.”

“I don’t know if what I have for Jack is love.”

“That’s another thing you won’t figure out until it’s too late.”

I pause for a moment, then reach a conclusion. “Perhaps it’s already too late.”

It’s true. The moment was brief, but it was love. I loved him because he made me feel safe even though I didn’t know what to expect from him. This feeling wasn’t solely a result of my dismal choice with Willem. It was because I felt a sense of rightness with Jack. There was no one else in the picture, and that remains true even today.

“It’s just us now,”I say to Quinton, who is now wide awake after Morgan leaves for the airport. “Do you like your new home?”

He turns away from me.

“Oh, don’t be like that.” I rub his back. “I know it’s not as big and colorful as your old room, but we’ll find a new place soon. And I promise I’ll paint those animals on the wall again for you.”

“Ma…. ma… ma…” He hasn’t quite mastered the word ‘mama’ yet. Random sounds like that only happen sporadically.

“What is it, baby?”

Once again, he avoids me, crawling away.

“You don’t want my company?” I tickle him with the giraffe teether, and he giggles. If he had a dad, I would’ve called him right away, giving my baby a break from seeing his wearied mother. As if the words are drawn out of my throat, I whisper, “Jack will be here. Can you say ‘Jack’?”

Quinton grimaces. His distress tells me it’s not because he’s responding to Jack’s name. My little boy starts kicking around in discomfort.

“What’s wrong, baby? You’re still tired, aren’t you?”

Despite cradling him for an hour, he still refuses to calm down.

I give in and opt to switch on the TV, hoping it will divert his attention. Just in time, Quinton becomes engrossed in his favorite show,Paw Patrol. I can’t recall how he grew to love it, especially since the show is usually targeted toward kids two years and older. I guess it’s all about the colors and the dogs.

“Po po po,” Quinton babbles, pointing at the cartooncanines in their helmets, flying around using their superpowers.

In the meantime, I find the missing dog-ear sunglasses and start to play peek-a-boo with him.

But he loses interest in the show, and my funny faces behind the shades don’t amuse him anymore. His complaints turn loud, but then he abruptly falls silent and lies limp on the mat.

“Quinton?”

He’s never been like this before, and he’s burning up with a fever.

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