A Father's Name(13)

She smiled because he’d caught on to her master plan. Taking care of a baby was a better life lesson than any of her lectures could be. Kids were hard work. Maybe watching Jace would help Bart remember that when he went off to college.

She decided that taking her time on the car was not such a bad idea after all, because being a grandmother in her thirties was definitely not on her list of future plans.

Of course, she wasn’t quite sure what those were, but she trusted that eventually she’d figure it out.



THREE DAYS LATER, Tyler dragged himself out of his truck and onto Angelina’s porch. He rang the doorbell and waited.

She’d been amazing, and he wasn’t sure why. She’d not only kept Jace, but with the help of her father and son, she’d juggled the baby’s care with work. She assured him that it was fine, that she knew he needed to be with his friend.

She hadn’t pushed him for explanations on his friendship with Jason. She hadn’t asked him for anything.

Tyler had spent the last three days waiting for Jason to wake up, but his friend had slowly gone from bad to worse. When Jason’s parents had arrived from their retirement community in Florida, Tyler had felt stretched almost beyond his limits as he tried to support them. Jason was their only son and they were crushed.

When the end came, it had been swift. There was no fanfare. No final moments with poignant words. One minute, Jason had been breathing—still clinging to life. The next minute he simply stopped—stopped breathing, stopped living. Mrs. Matthews had totally fallen apart. It was all he could do to help Mr. Matthews get her to Jason’s house where they were staying. Her grief was tangible.

Tyler pushed his own pain aside. The Matthews had done so much for him. He’d do what he had to in order to support them. Later, he’d grieve on his own.

He told them he’d bring the baby over later in the day and that he’d help them plan Jason’s funeral.

Tyler realized he hadn’t felt the full impact of Mellie’s death because he’d been in prison. Jason had called and told him when she’d died, but there hadn’t been anything Tyler could do. She wasn’t a blood relation, so there wasn’t even a possibility of being released for her funeral. He’d suffered through the loss on his own.

This time, he wasn’t alone. He’d thought it would hurt less if he was with others who shared his pain, but watching people he loved suffering made it hurt more.

He waited at Angelina’s door, pushing down his hurt.

The door flew open. “Tyler?”

“He’s gone. Jason’s dead.” It was the first time he’d said the words out loud and they struck him. “He’s gone.”

Angelina reached out, grabbed his hand and tugged him inside. “I’m so sorry, Tyler. What can I do?”

Angelina’s warm reaction didn’t exactly surprise him, but it didn’t mean he understood it, either. “I came to get Jace.” His mind was muddled; he accepted her concern, but he knew he couldn’t impose on Angelina any further.

Rather than go get the baby, she asked, “When’s the last time you slept or ate?”

“What day is it?” he asked.

“Saturday.”

The days had blurred together and he didn’t have a clue. “I don’t know.”

“You can crash in my room and I’ll take care of him for a little while longer. He’s a good kid.”

“Angel, I can’t—”

He thought of her as Angelina, or Angel. Back when he’d had the world in his hand, he’d called her that, but everything had changed since then. He knew he should call her Tucker, like everyone else, but she didn’t notice, or simply didn’t correct his slipup as she interrupted him. “You’re right. You can’t do much of anything until you get some sleep and some food. In that order.” She led him down the hall. “And a shower.”

She sniffed the air. “Maybe the shower first.”

“I—”

She led him to her room and gave him a gentle push inside. “The bathroom’s right through that door. There are clean towels in the cupboard. Take a shower, then go to bed, Tyler. We’ll figure it all out when you get up.”

He was too exhausted to argue. He took a shower and used the shampoo that was out. It smelled flowery. It smelled like Angelina. Until now, he’d never noticed that despite her work clothes, she’d always smelled very feminine.