Page 50 of Mending Scars

“Wow.” Ethan’s mouth hung open as he stared at me. “That’s crazy,” he said in disbelief.

I nodded and took a sip from my cup. “Yeah.”

Our eyes locked. “Why didn’t you call me?”

I held his gaze silently for several seconds before responding, “The only thing I was concerned about when I was in there was Kaiya. You didn’t even cross my mind.”

A flash of hurt crossed over Ethan’s face before he forced half a smile and covered his heart. “Ouch, bro.”

“Just being honest.” I shrugged. “I learned to block out most of the pain and anger, but to do that I also had to block out the source.”

He nodded in understanding before breaking eye contact. “How is it now?” He gestured to my shoulder with his head.

I followed his gaze. “Ripped some the muscles in my shoulder and chest and fucked up the nerves.”

“It still hurts?”

“Always. The pain dulls, but never completely goes away.”

His eyes came back to mine. “That sucks. I’m sorry.”

I glanced away to look at Tristan, who was back to eating his fries. I quickly grabbed one and ate it before licking my thumb and index finger. I laughed as Tristan looked up at me and narrowed his eyes. “Hey!”

Darting my hand out, I snatched another fry from him and stuck it in my mouth. Tristan giggled as I looked up and away, pretending that I hadn’t done anything.

“Daddy, Uncle Ryker keeps eating my fries,” he tattled playfully.

My eyes widened in mock shock as I looked back at Tristan and tried to keep a straight face. “I didn’t do anything.”

“Tristan, you need to share,” Ethan said in a parental tone.

“You sound just like Dad.” I chuckled. I imitated my father. “Ryker, don’t touch that. Get off your brother. Put that down. Go to time-out.”

Ethan roared with laughter, and I did the same. Tristan stared at us like we were crazy as we continued laughing like hyenas.

“Daddy, are you okay?” Tristan asked in a confused voice.

Our laughter subsided. Ethan patted Tristan on the back. “Yeah, buddy, I’m fine.”

More people began filling the seats around us. I took another drink of my beer and settled back into my chair. One of Boston’s mascots started dancing around on the field, getting Tristan’s attention. “Daddy, look!” He pointed enthusiastically in the direction of the oversized, cartoon red sock.

“I see it, buddy.”

Tristan stood on his seat. “I can’t see, Daddy. Lift me up.”

Ethan picked up Tristan, then stood and set him on his shoulders. I smiled as I watched them laugh and talk about the performance on the field. My grin spread as I pictured myself one day doing the same with my own son.

Tristan crashed out about halfway through the sixth inning. How he was able to sleep through all the cheering and commotion was beyond me, but he stayed asleep until we left the stadium.

Once we got through the mob of fans celebrating the Red Sox victory, and made it to Ethan’s SUV, I stopped and faced him. “This was great. We should do it again.”

He disabled the car alarm and opened the door to the back seat. “Definitely.” He carefully set Tristan in his car seat and strapped him in before quietly shutting the door. “Just let me know when.”

We clasped hands and hugged. “Will do, brother. See ya later.”

“Sure thing. Drive safe,” Ethan called out as I walked away.

When I got home, Kaiya was sitting on the couch with her Kindle.

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