Page 125 of Waiting for Redemption

“Well, Dad is at an important meeting today. You know how you go with him to see Mr. Harold and the other guys atThe Veterans Center?”

“You mean Iron Man,” he corrects.

“Yes, when you go with him to see Iron Man.”

“Yeah?”

“Well, Mr. Doug, the guy who owns that place, asked Dad if he would want to run a second location, and he’s going to do it.”

“What does that mean?” he asks, hopping on the end of the baker to ride as I push it down the aisle.

“Well, it means that there will be a second building for people to go that need assisted living care, without Mr. Doug having to tell them their rooms are all full. There will be more space to help more people,” I explain it to him the best I can.

“So Dad is gonna work there, like all the time?”

“Yeah, pretty much.”

“That’s so cool. Can I still go to work with him?” he asks as we stop in front of the tiny selection of beach towels. Shopping out of season for this trip is proving to be more challenging than I thought.

“I’m sure he would love that once they get everything up and running smoothly.” I rake my eyes over the selection before propping my hands on my hips.

“Which one should we get for Dad?”

“That one!” He points to a Paw Patrol towel, making me laugh.

“Why that one?” I ask, seeing as how he hasn’t watched Paw Patrol in like, two years, I’m surprised by his choice.

“Because, Chase kind of looks like Maverick.” He pulls it from the rack, holding it over the basket. “Can we get it?” Even though it will look like a hand towel in comparison to my husband’s masculine frame, there's no way it’snotcoming home with us.

“Absolutely.” I smirk at him.

“Yes!”He pumps his fist excitedly before grabbing a Spider-Man towel for himself and a purple and white one for me.

After stocking up on towels, clearance swimwear, sunglasses, and slides for everyone, we check out and head to one of our favorite places for lunch. I guess there’s a plus side to shopping for the beach in December—everything wecanfind is on major sale.

“Hey, Hendrix, I have something I wanted to ask you.” We’re sitting at a small table near the window, watching the cars go through the drive-thru while Hendrix makes funny faces at the cars that end up stopping next to us.

“Yes, ma’am?” He turns to face me, dipping his waffle fry in some ketchup before taking a big bite.

“How would you feel about asking Tank to adopt you?”

“What does ‘adopt’ mean?” A question I was sure he would ask.

“Well, you already think of Tank as your dad, right?”

“Yeah. Thebestdad.” He raises a brow as he corrects me.

“Well, when someone adopts you it just means that–” Explaining adoption to a six-year-old is harder than I thought it would be. “It basically just means he’s your dad on paper, not just in your heart. And you’d get to have the same last name as him.”

“Oh, yeah, I want to do that!” His eyes light up as he grabs a nugget from his tray.

“Okay then. What if we surprise him and ask him while we’re at the beach?”

“Yeah!” He jumps up and down, making my heart swell in my chest.

My baby boy is finally going to have the dad he’s always deserved. Legally.

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