Page 5 of Hearts to Mend

“Oh? That’s good.”

“Do you cry, Daddy?”

“Sometimes.” Never.

“Dee says that when you cry you can put your hurt feelings in the tears and let them out.”

“Well, that’s pretty smart of her.” I ruffle his hair as I swallow all the feelings welling up at the thought of Dee espousing wisdom to my boy, then work up something to say. “I’m going to put my feelings into words and let them out that way. Do you want to hear them?”

He nods.

“My feelings are that I love you very much, and I’m ready to get you home for some yummy dinner and a lot of rest tonight. You’ve got a big day tomorrow.”

His eyes light up with excitement. “I got to ride in the fire truck today, and Dee says she’ll show me how to make the siren go really loud tomorrow when we tour the station.”

I cringe. I’d been referring to his first day back to school with a cast, remembering how popular my cast made me when I broke my arm in third grade. It was the week I caught Dee’s attention. But Matty’s mention of the field trip to the fire station reminds me: I signed up to be a chaperone. Apparently, I signed up as a chaperone for a tour of Dee’s firehouse, before I even knew she was a firefighter.

CHAPTER 3

DEE

* * *

“Are you sure you want to be into men?” I grumble between gulps of my beer. “Men are awful.”

Rooster chuckles. “Can’t help it. I love cock.”

With a harrumph, I commiserate: “Same.” Then I laugh, a little drunk. “Ha! Rooster loves cock!”

Rooster raises a brow at me and tips his beer toward mine as I take another gulp. “That is your final beer, doll, so make it last.”

“He has a child!” I shout at the ceiling of Rooster’s den, again.

“Yep.”

“He told me he loved me, over and over, and he just needed some time to ‘live a little.’ Then he went off to war and came home with a child!”

“Sorry, doll. What can I say? Love hurts.”

“You knew didn’t you?”

“Dee, everyone knows.”

“Well, how come I didn’t know?”

“Because the people of this town learned long ago not to talk to you about Rico. You were angry and hurt over the breakup, and no one wanted to rub salt in that wound.”

“The breakup? It wasn’t a breakup. It was a letter. It was a letter home from Afghanistan telling me not to wait for him. And that was seven years ago. No one thought it might be a good idea to warn me that Rico is not only back home from the war, but also a fucking father?”

Rooster looks at me with empathy in his eyes. I’ve answered my own question. No one wanted to be the one to inform me for precisely this reason. I’m a wet rag, draped across Rooster’s couch, cussing to the heavens between sips of his favorite lager. Who was going to volunteer for tell-Dee-about-Rico duty? No sane person, that’s for sure.

“He was supposed to have kids with me.” Sorry Rooster, but I need to vent. “He said I was the one, so how could he walk away from the person he supposedly loved?”

Rooster grimaces. “He didn’t walk away. He joined the Army.”

“And then he walked away.”

Rooster eyes me as he takes a sip of his beer.

---