Page 21 of Welcome to Forever
It was obvious he didn’t like the way she’d handled the situation. Would he rather that she bully the answer out of his son, though?
“Have a nice weekend,” he said tightly, walking with Ben toward his Jeep Cherokee in the parking lot.
“ ’Bye, Principal Chandler,” Ben called, not looking back.
“ ’Bye. See you Monday!” And with that, the first week of school was over. Kat blew out a breath. Not too bad. Everyone had survived, and next week would be even better—as long as she kept her hard and fast attraction toward a certain parent in check, and proved to him that she had his son’s best interests at heart. Because she did. Ben was a great kid, and she was going to make sure that he, and every other student at SES, was successful this year.
—
Micah stared at Ben across the dinner table that night. He’d made salads on purpose. Ben hated salads and, for the life of him, he didn’t know how to punish the kid. Ben needed to tell on his bully, so that the brat could be tossed in that Friendship Club the school was constructing for mean kids.
“You don’t protect the people who hurt you,” he said, studying Ben’s forlorn features.
“You protect Mom,” Ben countered.
Micah started to argue, stopping short when the doorbell rang. He pointed a finger. “Not the same, but hold that thought.”
He walked toward the front door and opened it, already knowing who would be there. “Hey, Lawson. Maybe you can talk some sense into my boy.”
Lawson pulled off his cowboy hat and hung it on a hook in the hallway as he followed Micah toward the table. It was Friday night. Lawson had been showing up on Friday nights since their first deployment together. Micah had saved his life in the desert and somehow that translated into having weekly meals together.
Ben’s eyes lit up when he saw him. “Uncle Lawson!”
Yeah, and somehow weekly meals translated into family. That was fine by Micah, too. Ben needed family. Other than Micah, all Ben had was a mother who had chosen the military over him and a grandfather who, as the CO of Camp Leon,wasthe military.
Then there was Aunt Clara and Uncle Rick who lived next door. They were a big part of the reason that Micah had decided to stay in Seaside once he got out of the military. Clara and Rick had always been home to him, no matter where he’d gone growing up, moving across the country, wherever his father’s job sent them. Every time he’d visited Seaside, he’d felt that ring of familiarity in his heart—the one he guessed people got when they came home.
This was his home.
Lawson, all six foot three of him, stood in front of the table and frowned at the salad like a disappointed child.
Micah tried not to look at him for fear of laughing. This was a serious meal. Ben needed to tell him who was bullying him at school.
“A salad?” Lawson muttered. “Really? I don’t know if I mentioned it on the phone or not, but I ran six miles this morning. And spent all day in the field. I probably sweat off at least two gallons out there, man.”
Nice visual.“You mentioned it.” Micah sat and picked up his fork, stabbing at a leaf of lettuce. “Ben, tell Uncle Lawson why we’re having salads for dinner.”
Ben squirmed in his chair. “Because salads are good for you.”
“Wrong answer,” Micah said sharply. “Some kid at school is picking on Ben. Drawing pictures of him and calling him names.”
“What kid?” Lawson asked, his eyes darkening. He was a good friend, and loved Ben as much as he would a real nephew.
“He’s not saying,” Micah said through tight lips. He wanted to shake the answer out of his son right now and then barge down to the bully’s house and lay into the kid until he cried uncontrollably. And after that, lay into the kid’s parents for raising such a brat. Not that he’d actually do that, of course.
But Ben wasn’t saying. No matter how much the kid had hurt his feelings, he didn’t want to see his bully get in trouble with his overprotective father. Micah got that. It’s the same thing he would’ve done, but it didn’t keep his blood from singing through his veins.
“Fine. You can add doing the dishes every night to your list of chores,” Micah said.
“Dad!”
Lawson raised a finger quietly, seated now with a fork in hand. “How’s he supposed to wash dishes?”
Micah and Ben both looked at him like he had vines growing out of his ears.
“I can wash dishes, Uncle Lawson. I hold the dish in my left arm and wash with my right. Just takesforever.” He emphasized the word “forever,” rolling his eyes.
“Keep complaining and I’ll add folding the laundry.” Micah noticed the slight tremble in Ben’s chin.Oh, geez.He hoped his son wouldn’t start crying. Lawson hated it when Ben cried. The man got all shifty and looked like he was being held hostage or something.
“If you’re so big and tough, why don’t you just tell me this news you’ve been trying to break to me all week,” Ben said then.
Micah steeled himself, holding his fork suspended in the air. “What news?”
“You know. The news about Mom.” Tears shone in Ben’s eyes. His cheeks were already a ruddy red from the emotion swirling through him. Cerebral palsy didn’t just affect his son’s muscle tone, it also made him an extra emotional kid. It was something Micah understood, but it still socked him in the gut every time he saw Ben’s tears.
Lawson shoved more lettuce in his mouth, keeping his head low. Micah guessed he was regretting not going home for a boring night of TV or finding a date for tonight instead.
“How did you know your mom was deploying again?” Micah asked.
Ben pushed aside his plate as a tear glided down his freckled cheek. He sniffed, looking like he was doing his best not to fall apart, and Micah knew he was. “I didn’t. Until now.”
