Page 57 of Christmas with the Baby Daddy

“Get out of here,” I warned Rory with a hard shove that made him fall back to the front door. “And never set foot on this property or near her again.”

He worked his jaw from side to side, cupping his face for damage control. “Oh, yeah? Who the hell do you think you are to say how it is around here? Huh, mother?—”

“That’s enough!” Grandma Jenny stepped forward, raising her voice and using all her authority to put this piece of scum in his place. “Get out! Now! You heard him. Leave her alone or else.”

No one fucked with my grandma when she used that tone.

Rory scowled, looking from her, to me, then to Blake hiding around my side. George didn’t flinch, glaring at him to leave. Volleying his gaze between the boy and me, Rory seemed to stall. It didn’t matter what he was rehearsing to say. I lost patience for his farewell. For his departure.

“Fuck,” he muttered, turning to wrench the door open, slam it shut, and storm off.

Without thinking about it, I turned to Blake and wrapped my arms around her. She trembled a little but kept her chin held up high.

“Thank you, Zachary,” George said as he walked over and hugged my legs. I told him at the kids’ tent that most people called me Zach, but when he noticed I signed my coloring paper withZachary, he assumed that was the right way to address me.

Grandma Jenny looked at me as I held Blake and lowered my hand to put it on George’s back. A group hug wasn’t something I was used to, but this one made sense. It was all I wanted to do—comfort these two.

But as I did, I realized that Rory had a point. WhowasI to be this defensive on their behalf? I hadn’t realized how much I’d been inserting myself into Blake’s life, into George’s life too. I’d only been here for a couple of weeks and already, I was invested in this mother-and-son pair like this was where I belonged.

It was a bittersweet acknowledgment because she wouldn’t even stay. She spoke about her goals to move for better pay and job opportunities. She didn’t plan to stay here, and it was bizarre to see how she was just as eager—if reluctantly eager—as I was to go.

Or is that a mistake?

I’d spent so much time concentrating on being in the military for a career that I hadn’t put much thought into what it would be like to stay put in Vernford.

“Blake, sweetie.” Grandma Jenny approached, seeming to join the group hug. “Are you all right?”

Blake stepped back to face her, smiling and nodding weakly.

George remained at my side, though, trusting me enough to linger and hug my leg. I rubbed his small back, touched that he could look up to me as a protector of him and his mom. I was a hero—as a soldier. But having George treat me like I hung the moon was something else.

“Yes, I’ll be…” Blake leaned into Grandma Jenny’s side hug. “I’ll be fine. Maybe he’ll listen and stop bothering me now.” As she lifted her gaze and searched my face, I wondered what she was looking for. A reassurance? A vote of confidence?

I wanted to give both to her.

“Maybe you should take tonight off. I can see if Tiff and Leo can make up for your absence.”

Blake shook her head. “No. No. I can’t afford taking another day off. I lost so much when George had strep after Halloween.”

“But Blake,” Grandma Jenny argued, rubbing her back, “you’re overwhelmed.”

Blake huffed, rubbing her arms in a self-hug. “Nothing new there?—”

George interrupted, bending over to gag.

“Whoa.” I knew that sound. Young or old, it was all the same. I reacted on instinct, rushing to the garbage can Blake and I had set out in the dining room for wrapping paper scraps. Just in the nick of time, I slid it under the boy as he puked. “There you go.”

“Oh, no,” Grandma Jenny said, cringing as Blake came close and joined me in having the boy sit on the couch with the small container in his lap.

“What’s wrong?” Blake asked, worried.

“He was fine and slept all night, but this morning, he and Amanda both said they didn’t feel so great. That’s why I drove him home so early. I figured they’d both caught something.”

Blake’s exasperated sigh was so heavy that I felt it in my soul.

“There’s always something going around. You poor thing, honey.” She held George close and brushed his hair back.

“No temp. Just a stomach thing, I think,” Grandma Jenny said. “Hopefully, just a twenty-four-bug.”

---