Page 24 of Dream with Me

He’s gone. Tightness grips my chest, and my breathing picks up. Gone. Not only tonight but from now on. Gone.

CHAPTER14

TROY

This evening was the best I’ve had in weeks. It was being there with the kids at home—their home—helping them with their routines that felt great. It was cooking for them and being with them while they ate together. Watching them and listening to them laugh and chat about the silly things of childhood like Timmy Ziltz was chasing girls around the playground with boogers on his fingers today. Not exactly polite dinner conversation, but tonight, I didn’t care. Because for that all too brief period during the meal, my kids all seemed happy.

It’s also among the hardest evenings I’ve had in a long time. And fuck have there been some hard ones lately. I don’t want to think about it, but as I lie down to find sleep, I see it all again.

With Chase snuggled up on the couch, nice and sleepy after his bath, I decided to go up one more time and say goodbye to the older kids. A minute later, I stand in Olivia’s doorway, watching her chip away at homework. I still can’t believe how much they give a twelve-year-old kid these days.

She’s the spitting image of Shannon, and I already know I’ll be chasing boys away in another year or two. An irritated growl escapes me at the thought, and Olivia turns around.

“You okay, Dad?”

“Yeah, honey. Just came to say goodnight before I head out.”

When she stands and crosses her room to me, I swear she’s grown a few inches I somehow missed. She wraps her arms around me and gives me a tight hug.

“Thanks for making us ‘sketti.’ It was delicious.”

“You’re welcome, Livvy.” I lean down and kiss her on the top of her head, and she pulls away from the hug and then looks up at me. “You be good for your mom. I’ll see you this weekend.”

Next, I find Oliver in his room, also doing his homework. He looks up as soon as I step into his space, and the tight expression on his face worries me. He’s always been quiet and pensive. But it’s not that. There’s something strained in his eyes and how he holds his body.

He doesn’t say anything and turns his focus back to his schoolwork.

Guilt washes over me. I was about his age when my dad left. I hate that I can’t be here physically every day.

When I walk over and sit on the edge of his bed, we’re only a few feet apart.

“You hanging in there, bud?”

It takes a second, but his pencil stills. Then he releases it, and it falls onto his open notebook. He closes his eyes, sighs, then opens them again, still not looking toward me.

“Sure. Everything’s fine.”

It takes me a second to quiet my thoughts and decide how I want to respond. “You sure? ‘Cause it’s okay if it’s not.”

“It is.” He picks up his pencil again and spares me a quick glance. “I’ve gotta finish this homework.”

I give him the best smile I can muster, which isn’t saying much, given that my heart is hurting for him. I wish I had the right words. That I could tell him it would all be okay. Instead, I stand, pat him on the shoulder, and kiss his head.

“I love you, Owlie. I’ll see you soon.”

“Mmm hmm,” is the only response I get. Ouch.

When I reach my baby girl’s room, she’s snuggled up with a blanket, resting on the cushions in the reading nook I built for her.

“I hope you’re not reading about vampires over there.” I try to keep my voice light and teasing as I walk over and sit beside her.

Her little giggle makes my heart lighter than it was when I left Oliver’s room. “No more vampires, Daddy. I told Shelley not to trade me any more books like that. Even though they were nice vampires.”

“Nice vampires?” I contort my face, and it earns me another of her laughs.

How Shelley, Chelsea’s friend from school, is getting a hold of a vampire book is beyond me. Regardless, I’m more than a little relieved that Chelsea’s already decided for herself she doesn’t want to read scary—and age-inappropriate—books. If it happens again, though, we’ll have to talk to Shelley’s parents.

I sit propped up next to Chelsea, and she rests her head on my shoulder as she reads aloud to me. As I’m listening to her, I’m still in awe of how far above her first-grade level she reads. At the end of kindergarten last year, her teacher told us she was already reading at a second-grade level. The little brainiac has been reading since she was four. Yeah, she definitely takes after her mom.

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