Page 22 of Irrevocably Mine

“Frank, you stop that right now, old man, we have company and in case you missed it, his heart is heavy, so leave off your naughty behavior and just go sit with the boy.” Francis was better at whispering, but not by much. She patted Frank’s arm and reached for Dax’s mug. As she headed to the coffee maker, Frank grabbed a plate and joined Dax at the table. Eating with him in comfortable silence was exactly what he needed. He gave Francis a nod of thanks as she set his steaming mug by his plate.

Kissing him on the top of his head, she breathed, “Anytime, son, anytime.” As she straightened to her great height of five foot nothing, she spoke excitedly, “I’ve got to get dressed. My fabulous children have invited me along for Gus’ OB visit. I’ll get to hear my little grand-baby’s heart beat and maybe even see that precious little thing.” Francis clapped her hands like a child. Excitement poured off her in waves as she hummed her way down the hall.

It wasn’t lost on Dax how she referred to them as her children and laid claim to the grandchild as well, even though there was no DNA binding most of them together. Francis and Frank Reid were their parents for all intents and purposes. Even though some had good parents, they just gained extras. But for those like Dax, they were the best parental figures they had. This family wasn’t made by shared blood, its ties ran deeper.

Breakfast was gone, Francis had left, and Frank had cleared the table. With his back to Dax as he washed dishes, Frank spoke, “So, son. You want to give me an outline of what’s going on or do you want me to guess? Or do you want me to continue to wash dishes and keep my damn mouth shut?”

And that’s why I love this man like a father.Frank gave Dax the choice if he wanted to talk or not, letting Dax take the lead. Either way, Frank would respect it. And if he chose to talk, Frank wouldn’t give unwanted advice; he’d make that Dax’s choice, too.

Sparing Frank the intimate details, Dax highlighted his relationship with Stacy to date, only telling what was necessary where Hank was concerned. That was Stacy’s story to tell, not his.

Frank listened intently, nodding every so often, but not turning around. Dax took note that the dishes were done, and Frank was drying his hands. “Do you want advice, son, or are you just looking to unburden yourself and work it out on your own?”Just as I expected.

“I’d like to hear your thoughts. I value your wisdom, you know that.” Dax rose to rinse his mug as Frank turned around. The older man’s eyes glittered with unshed tears and a look of pride graced his face. As Dax placed his mug in the sink, Frank clapped him on the back. “Then, walk with me. I’ve acquired an old Triumph that needs some TLC and I could use an extra set of hands.

Dax trailed Frank to the garage. This was usually how it went when someone came to Frank for advice or just a talk. It seemed to Dax that Frank kept these projects around strictly for the purpose of advising hissonson life. Dax had never witnessed Frank working on anything in the garage for the sake of fixing it or working alone. It was male bonding at its finest.

Dax grabbed a wrench and waited for Frank to formulate his thoughts. “How much do you love her, son?”

Clueless didn’t begin to describe it. Dax was lost. What did Frank mean by how much?

“Don’t give me that look, it’s a simple enough question. How much do you love her? Do you love her just enough to accept less than her whole heart or do you love her so damned much your soul demands you wring every single drop of love from hers? See, simple. How much?”

It took Dax some time to comprehend what Frank meant. And Frank, as always, just shut up and let Dax puzzle it out. So much in his life suddenly made sense. Hehadloved Sam, but he had loved her just enough—just enough to be content with what she gave him. His soul didn’t thirst for what she didn’t freely give. It was different with Stacy. Every fiber of his being cried out for everything—every single thing she had to give, not just what she was willing to either, but to wring out every ounce.

Thor’s heavy hammer.It hit him like a like an uppercut thrown byThe Champ. That’s why he left. Stacy had not given him everything. She held something back and that was unacceptable to his heart. The body and mind were willing, the heart and soul were not. Legendary patience had nothing to do with it. The heart had made a demand and he unknowingly obeyed.

Standing and depositing the wrench in the tool box, Dax scrubbed to grease from his hands. He dried them, looked Frank in the eye for a moment, then embraced the only real father he’d ever known. “So damned much. So. Damned. Much.” Frank returned his embrace and waited until Dax broke contact to speak.

“Then, she deserves to know that. She’s holding back for her own personal reasons, but it’s not fair to hold her accountable, and make no mistake son, you are. Even if it’s not a conscious decision, you are, and that will destroy a budding relationship, especially with a headstrong lass like our Stacy.”

“But I told her I loved her, repeatedly. How can she not know?”

Frank gave Dax a look that reminded him of Francis. That,boy you ain’t got the sense God gave a Junebug, do ya?look. “Existence and quantity are two different animals. People say they love people all the time. Most mean it; some don’t. But the word itself has been diminished by overuse. People love ice cream. People love reality TV. Hell, you love that Nickelback…”

“Nobody admits to loving Nickelback, old timer.”

“Calm down, slugger, your secret is safe with me. My point is, the word doesn’t convey depth. Just as you’ve loved before, so has she. We use our past experiences as a litmus for new ones. So, love to her may not mean the same as love does to you. She needs to know how much skin you’ve got in the game before you can expect her to understand the prize she’s playing for.”

Did Francis just inhabit Frank’s body?That round-about talk and shit wasn’t Frank’s way as a rule, but it happened to be exactly what Dax needed. Stacy needed to know the stakes before he could fault her for holding back.

“Thanks. You’ve always been a father to me, and I can’t thank you enough for all the times you’ve set me straight. Now, more than ever.” The words left Dax’s mouth without thought.

A choked reply, short and sweet followed, “Always, son.”

With a renewed sense of hope, Dax rode home on autopilot and had fired up the forge before it’d even registered what he was doing. Something compelled him to finish the blade he’d been working on for quite some time. It was another gift for Stacy, but unlike the table, this one was for her and her alone. Maybe it was the innate need he had to protect her that swung the hammer that shaped the steel. Perhaps it was something else, something more symbolic and primitive, either way, it was finally done.

When the metal was cool, he slid it into the sheath and held it to his heart for a moment. The ringing of his landline almost caused him to drop it. Shaking himself from his own head was damn near impossible when the dots started connecting in reality. By the time the astronomical significance of its ringing hit him, it had stopped.

It had to be Sam. It was the same number they’d had when they were together. He hadn’t changed it since she left. When he moved, he had it transferred in hopes she would try to contact him. It had never rung as long as he’d lived in that house.

He tripped over his own two feet to lift the receiver from its cradle. “Hello, Sam? Are you there?” But she wasn’t. All that greeted him was a buzzing that taunted him with missing possibly the most important call of his life.

Yanking the cell from his jacket pocket, which hung by the door, he saw a flurry of missed calls and texts. Scrolling and reading as fast as he could, he couldn’t believe his eyes. Chuck had already made contact with Sam and she would call him during her slotted time.

“DAMN IT!”

Dax cursed and slammed the sheathed blade into the wall, letting it drift from his hands to land softly in a pile of rags and towels. The blade forgotten and his anger under control, Dax returned his attention to his cell. After reading the text, he gave Chuck a call for the rundown. Chuck answered, but before he could finish his hello, Dax begged, “Tell me this is for real, I’m having a hard time believing what I’m reading.”

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