Page 7 of Missing

I kept thinking about how I’d joked with Chase about the cookies. I hadn’t planned it, but it felt natural despite being in complete opposition to my normal behavior. I didn’t have a lot of experience with kids and was usually a little stiff around them because I wasn’t sure how to act.

I’m never nervous around Chase.

Just because I couldn’t have kids, didn’t mean I didn’t want them.I did, and I hoped whoever I found to spend my life with would be open to adoption. First I’d have to find someone willing to spend their life with a broken, half of a man.

I hadn’t shared my secret with anyone and wouldn’t unless I thought we had have a chance at a future. There was no logical reason to face the ridicule and embarrassment unless I was falling in love. And that hadn’t happened yet.

How will Beth react?

Why was I thinking about telling Beth? I hadn’t even asked her out yet.

She’s gotten under my skin.

I wasn’t arrogant, but I was usually confident when it came to asking women out. So why was I so nervous about asking Beth out?

Because she’s different.

I’d been watching her for a year, slowly getting to know her one pleasantry at a time. The way her eyes light up when she smiles at someone she loves. How she glows when she talks about Chase. The way she looks down and blushes whensomeone compliments her. You can learn a lot about a person by watching them interact with others, and after a year’s worth of observations, I wanted more.

It was late when I got back to my apartment, but I wasn’t ready to call it a night. I started a load of laundry, then turned on the tv and my gaming console. Blowing up aliens sounded like the perfect way to relax after the last few days. Luckily for me, it was Friday night, and I didn’t have any assignments on Saturday so I didn’t have to worry about staying up late. I pressed pause and poured myself a glass of Scottish single malt. The strong smoky notes hit my nose after the initial waft of alcohol wore off.Just what I need.

This wasn’t the life I’d imagined for myself; thirty-two, divorced, living in a furnished studio apartment above a small real estate office. But it was better than living with someone who’d come to hate me because I had robbed her of her dreams. Her words, not mine.

I didn’t choose to be sterile.

She blamed me anyway. When I suggested adoption, thinking we could give a child, some children, a loving home, she’d shut me down. She wanted to carry and raise her own babies, not take care of someone else’s brats. Her words, not mine. =

I wondered for the thousandth time—how had I not seen that side of her?

My mom and dad saw it. They’d advised me to take my time before marrying her, get to know her better. I thought they were just being their judgmental selves. Turns out they were right. I should have waited. I also should’ve asked for a prenup like my father suggested, but I’d refused. I was in love and didn’t think I’d need one. After all, enlisted men weren’t exactly rolling in the dough, so it wasn’t like she was marrying me for my money.

They’d welcomed her into the family with polite indifference after we said I do.

When she left me and filed for divorce, they were less than sympathetic as they peppered me with, “I told you so”. They pointed out all the times they’d noticed her selfish, narcissistic behaviors. Hearing their stories, I realized just how often I’d made excuses for her behavior—to myself and to them.

The buzzer from the washing machine interrupted my thoughts. I transferred my clothes to the dryer, poured another glass of scotch, and sat down to destroy an army of alien invaders.

It’s not the life I expected, but it’s not so bad.

Chapter 7

Beth

When I dropped Chase off at daycare Monday morning, he was excited to see his friends again, but sad he couldn’t stay home with me. I felt the same way. While I was happy to go back to work after seven days of trying to keep up with Chase, I felt sad I wouldn’t be with him all day.

I shook my head.The bittersweet paradox of parenthood.

I was lucky Chase’s daycare served a lot of police and firefighter families, so they opened earlier and closed later than most others, since I started at Grannie’s at six am. Two sisters, Shawna and Angela, whose parents had been police officers,and whose husbands were still active duty in the military, ran the daycare. When I interviewed them, they said it was a win-win situation; they served the community while earning extra money.

I had to agree. Plus, it was a bonus for me that Chase liked them, and they never had more than six kids at a time, so each kid felt special.

“I’ll be back around three to pick you up, okay?” I kissed the top of his head as I hugged him goodbye.

“Then I get to practice tee ball with Uncle John, right?”

“Yup, after dinner.”

“Yay.” He clapped his hands while he hopped up and down in place. “Love you, Mommy.”

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