Page 75 of Destiny Reclaimed
Blake’s little arms gripped him around his neck. “Daddy, fall.”
His son must have thought he’d tripped. “I’m okay.”
The feel of his toddler son against him was indescribable. He’d never felt anything better. Inhaling deeply, he took in the soapy, clean scent of the lad which seemed to unleash every memory he held about his son, from his birth to this very moment. A vision of Blake’s first cry, first crawl across the floor, first garbled recital of DaDa, first steps.Memories.He had all the appropriate memories. Though his destiny had been stolen for a brief time, he didn’t miss a thing. It was all there in his heart and mind.
Blake squirmed in his embrace, letting him know he wanted to be set loose. Jack lowered him to the ground and took in his surroundings. He stood in the middle of the small Civil War cemetery where his great-grandfather was buried. Looking down at the flat, weathered grave marker, he crouched down and ran his fingertips over the letters of his great-grandfather’s name.You were a brave young soldier—a hero. I’m so proud of you, so proud I come from a line of such bravery.
A lump rose in his throat at the memory of when he had to preserve his family’s history, not to mention his family’s rightful future. He glanced at his son. The obstruction in his throat enlarged but slowly dissipated as he recalled reclaiming his destiny—his family’s destiny.
This time travel bit was scary, too scary in the sense of all that could be lost in the tick of a moment. The cross to bear as a Preserver was second to none. The past, present, and future of not only their family line were at stake, but so many other families as well. He now understood all too well how the butterfly effect of one simple alteration could impact numerous people, adjusting their lives, transforming their destinies.
Blake plopped down on the ground next to him and placed his little fingers on the tombstone exactly as he had done. His heart constricted. Someday, he’d need to prepare his son for his destiny as a Preserver. The role was too important to not prepare to the fullest.
For a brief moment though, it crossed his mind to consider researching for a way to get out of this business altogether in an effort to shield his son from the pressure and stress of it. But, his heart and brain quickly squashed the idea. Being a Preserver was their destiny—the Cornelis destiny.
He caught his son’s big, brown gaze. “Today is Decoration Day. A day we honor those who died in service. Your great-great-grandpa Ben is buried here. He didn’t die in the Civil War, but he fought hard and came home a war hero.”
Jack stuck a small flag with a wooden handle into the ground next to the flat tombstone. The cloth flapped in the breeze, and Blake reached out and touched it, then placed his little fingers to the tombstone again.
“Hero,” his son repeated.
A sense of satisfaction filled Jack’s chest.
He stared down at the flag that represented his country. The very country he was so proud of and willingly risked his life for. The scene his gaze soaked in reminded him of the Congressional action taken to change the name of the holiday they observed today from Decoration Day to Memorial Day. He eyed his great-grandfather’s gravestone, taking in the dates. The man—boy—fought in Gettysburg a handful of years before Decoration Day was established. The holiday held that name from 1868 to 1970. Starting next year, the day would be referred to as Memorial Day, and rather than the thirtieth day of May, be recognized on the last Monday in May, no matter which day of the week it fell. The change still struck him in an odd way. It was almost like letting go of the past, yet, it wasn’t. It was still a day of recognition for those who gave their all for this great country.
He gazed down at his son. “You may not remember, but you and I do this every year.”
Blake nodded.
Then he scooped up his son and planted him on his hip. “This is our tradition.”
He kissed Blake on the forehead and set him back down for the short trek back to the car all the while recalling his last mission, thankful he was able to preserve it, and grateful that he made it home to be with his son.
––––––––
Gwen puttered in thekitchen, preparing lunch for her husband and son. They’d be home soon from their trip to the cemeteries. Her heart panged. She’d joined them for the Decoration Day service in front of City Hall earlier in the day, but she didn’t accompany them to the cemeteries to place flags on the family graves. She just couldn’t. Though it had been just over three and a half years since Marvin was killed in action, and just over three years Gary had been, their deaths were still painfully raw to her. It was one thing to remember and honor them in her heart and soul, but to see their names etched in grave markers was too much.
The slam of a car door snapped her out of her reverie. Peering out the window, she caught a glimpse of her husband effortlessly swinging their son up and onto his shoulders. Blake wore the cowboy hat and boots his father had purchased for him at the dime store. She giggled. Her child would wear those to bed if she’d let him.
Jack crouched down a bit to get through the doorway, kicking the door shut behind him. Then he stepped over to where she stood on the opposite side of the kitchen table and kissed her lightly on the lips. Her stomach fluttered as if that were the first time he’d ever kissed her. A giddy laugh escaped her and she leaned in for another.
Blake reached out to her, and she pulled him off her tall husband’s broad shoulders.
Her son placed his cool fingers on her cheeks.
“I love you, honey.” Blake smiled at her and repeated the sentiment, warming her heart. Leaning forward she snuck in a kiss before he squirmed to get out of her arms.
She had to be the luckiest mother in the world.
Jack helped their son onto his booster seat at the table as she finished preparing the macaroni and cheese and tuna salad.
She glanced over her shoulder. Blake was already fidgeting in his seat, but her husband stared at her. An odd, intense, expression encompassed him. It was the kind one radiates when they discover a prized possession. Her breath hitched, and her pulse kicked up a notch. She recalled that gaze, it was that of a new love expression. The way he stared at her now, was the exact same way he did years ago when they’d made love the first time. Sure, they still exchanged loving glances, but this one mirrored that first glance he’d flashed her years ago when he’d pledged his all to her—heart, soul, and body.
Not that she minded this attention from him, but what had caused it in this very moment? She wanted to know so she could replicate it every moment of every day.
She set Blake’s plastic superhero plate in front of him, then turned back toward the counter to grab her and her husband’s plates. After she set them on the table, she took a seat.
Jack still stared at her, but now his gaze seemed to resemble that of a lost puppy.
