Page 1 of Liberating Love

1

Delaney

“Thank you, Holden. That was delicious.” Settling back into my seat, I rub my hands over my full stomach.

“You’re welcome, Delaney,” Holden says with a warm smile. My son, Jameson, did well in picking a partner. Holden is the exact type of person I want for my son; kind, affectionate, and nurturing.

Holden’s smile grows as my son reaches over and squeezes his neck. “Delicious as always, babe.” Then Jameson focuses on me. “Dad, seriously, everyone calls him Holds. You’ve been staying with us for a couple of weeks already. You don’t have to be so formal.”

Before I can reply, the blue-eyed brunet says, “He’s right, you know? I’m planning on being around for a long time, so you may as well call me by my nickname.”

Throwing my arms up in surrender, I say, “Alright, I’ll try. It’s strange is all. The last time I saw Holden he was in junior high and now he’s all grown up.” I’ve tried to not to be too heavy since I got out of jail after five years, but it needs to be said. “Holds”—I stretch his name out—“I knew your parents well with the amount of time we spent in the bleachers together watching this one”—I nod at my son—“and your brother. I’m sorry they’re not here to see it, but I know they’d be so proud of you. And I don’t just mean your career as a veterinarian either, I’m talking about the strong, loving man you’ve grown up to be.”

Holds’s eyes widen before he blinks back the moisture in his eyes. “Thank you, Delaney.” He kisses Jameson on the cheek and quickly stands, grabbing his plate and walking into the kitchen.

My son watches him go, then turns to me and says softly, “Thanks, Dad. Since he’s moved back, he and Drix have spent a lot of time talking about their childhoods, and I think they’re both realizing they didn’t properly mourn their parents.”

I nod. “That’s understandable. They were young, just about to graduate high school and leave for college when their parents died. I’m sure they didn’t know which way was up.”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t think so.” A small smile crosses his face. “But they’re back together now, and they’re reminiscing and going through things… It’s good.”

“It’ll bring healing.” Sitting back, I take in my youngest son. He’s grown up to be a good man as well. I knew he would. As a police officer with the Baltimore City Police Department, I’ve seen the last couple of weeks with my own eyes how stressful the job is for him and how much it wears on him, but he’s passionate about what he does. I’m proud of him. “Speaking of healing, have you talked to your mom?”

Jameson’s gaze drops to his plate as he reaches for his drink. “Nah.”

Holds walks back into the room to finish clearing the table as I’m saying, “Jameson, I appreciate you’re having Thanksgiving dinner here tomorrow, but you need to arrange a time to get over there and see your mom and her family or she’ll be upset.”

“What?” Holds asks, staring at me in confusion. He turns his gaze to Jameson. “Why would you go see your mom?”

It’s my turn to be confused. “Why wouldn’t he? It’s a holiday. I get you’re not as close as you used to be—”

Jameson’s harsh bark cuts me off. “Dad.” He sighs, focusing on the cup he’s now rubbing between his hands. “Can we get through tomorrow? Then we can talk about it, okay?”

I flick my glance toward Holds, who winces and nods his head slightly at me.

“Okay, I’ll lay off for now, but you and your brother owe me some answers. Obviously, I missed stuff while I was away.”

“Yeah, well…”

“One of you is going to tell me. Everything, Jameson.”

Jameson’s eyes finally rise from the glass to meet mine, a smile in their depths, matching the one spread across his face. “Oh, the stern parental voice.” He laughs, a young, carefree sound. “It’s so damn good to have you home, Dad.”

“It’s good to be home.” As Holds makes another pass to the table, I say, “Sit down, Holds. I’ll finish up the kitchen before I go out tonight. You’re absolutely positive there’s nothing I can do for you before tomorrow to help with dinner?”

“Nope, I’m all set,” he says as he sinks back into the chair next to Jameson.

Jameson narrows his eyes on me. “Where are you going?”

“I thought I’d get out for a bit tonight.”

“We’ll come. Right, Holds?” Jameson asks.

“Oh, I think your dad wants a night out alone.”

“No—”

“Actually, Jameson, I told Holds earlier that I thought it would be nice to get out by myself for a while tonight. Plus, you guys have everyone coming over tomorrow, so it’ll be good for you to have a night alone.”

---