Page 9 of Room 1003

And against my better judgment, I found myself replying, “You know, I was just thinking about how a peanut butter sandwich would really hit the spot.”

“What a coincidence,” he said. “I just happen to have the ingredients for that.”

I’d never accepted food from a customer before, preferring to keep things professional, but I just couldn’t bring myself to turn him down. And I felt like there was no line I could draw between us that I wouldn’t cross.

5

Shane

Ipulledbacktheblanket on Kit’s bed. “Come on, bud, no more stalling. It’s time for bed,” I called, loud enough for him to hear me from the bathroom across the hall.

Kit was currently making faces in the mirror, roaring at himself. “Dinosaurs don’t go to bed,” he said in a raspy, growly voice that I could only assume was meant to be a dinosaur.

It was hard to be stern when he was being so goofy.Well, you know what they say, I told myself with a sigh.If you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em.

I crossed the hall, with my fingers shaped like claws, teeth bared, walking with an awkward gait. “Sorry, Son, but even dinosaurs have daddies, and those daddy dinosaurs are so scary that even a ferocious T-rex like you will be glad to hide under the covers.Rooooar!”

He squealed, laughing, and tried to run to bed, but I was too fast. I scooped him up and spun him around, pretending to eat his belly. “Nooo! Papa, no!” I just about clocked an elbow to the face with his frantic wiggling.

Pulling back, I gave him a mock glare. “Are you ready for bed then?”

He nodded, and I carried him over to bed and tucked him in. “Will you tell me a story?” It was probably just another stall tactic, but he was growing too fast, and I knew that soon enough, he wouldn’t want his lame dad putting him to bed anymore.

I lay down bedside him and snuggled close, until he was breathing his minty toothpaste breath in my face. “Sure, buddy. Have I ever told you about the first time your daddy laid eyes you?”

“Yeah, but you can tell me again.” And I did. It was love at first sight between those two.

Kit was so young when Embry died, and I did everything I could to keep his dad’s memory alive for him. I told him stories, showed him pictures. It broke my heart thinking about everything Embry had already missed—the first day of school, learning how to ride a bike—and there were still so many milestones to come.

“You look like him, you know,” I whispered, tugging on one of Kit’s curls, so much like mine but with his alpha dad’s distinctive blond color.

He sounded half asleep when he said, “I know, Papa, you tell me all the time.” Some days I felt lucky for their resemblance, because it was like I got to keep a piece of Embry forever. Other times, it was hard not to cry for how much it made me miss my husband.

I extricated myself from under the blankets and kissed him on the forehead. “Love you, buddy.”

“Love you too, Papa,” he mumbled.

I turned off his light but left the door open a crack, just the way he liked it. I made my way down the groaning staircase to the living room, and the electric light changed to a flickering orange of candlelight. Ben hadn’t managed to get this portion of the house working yet, but he promised he would get started on it tomorrow.

“Nightcap?” Dad asked, holding up a bottle.

“That is the best offer I’ve had in a long time,” I said with a sigh, dropping onto the couch and propping my feet up on the low coffee table.

Dad poured us each a glass then sat down beside me, mirroring my pose, and passed me my drink.

“Do you hear that?” he asked.

I strained my ears to listen, but after a minute, I shook my head. “No, what?”

“Silence,” he whispered. “No traffic, no noisy neighbors. Just… silence.” Neither of us felt the need to fill the void. We simply sat together, sipping our drinks, and basked in the peace and quiet.

I turned my head and looked at my dad’s profile. He looked older than I remembered seeing him. Maybe it was just the way the candles cast their shadows, but from my own experience, I suspected it was the weight of grief. I wondered if I too had aged beyond my years.

“This is exactly what I wanted for Kit,” I said, finally breaking the quiet. “A neighborhood with lots of other kids. Friendships, a community where he could grow and explore.” I scoffed out a sarcastic laugh. “I just didn’t expect it to cost quite this much.”

“I admit, it would’ve been different if Embry were here to live out this dream with you, and not just because of the second income.”

“He was good at this kind of stuff,” I said, reminiscing. “He could fix anything. Not like me.” I held up my soft hands, not a callous in sight.

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