A Father's Name(20)

There was no easy answer.

All he could do was his best.

He thought of Angelina and something in him eased. She’d been little more than a child herself when she’d had Bart, and she’d done a hell of a job with the boy. She would never let anything happen to Jace. If he asked, she’d check on him and make sure he never slipped up.

It was a lot to ask of someone who’d already given him a job when no one else would. Someone who believed in him without ever asking for explanations. Someone who stood by him when old friends turned their backs on him.

Instinctually he knew that Angelina Tucker would agree.

She was a tiny woman, but she had a warrior’s heart.

She’d never let him hurt Jace.

If he fell into his past, she’d save the baby.

He knew that, and that knowledge allowed him to hope he could succeed at this.





CHAPTER FOUR



THE FRIDAY AFTER JASON’S funeral, Tucker asked herself for about the thousandth time what she was doing. The answer remained the same—she didn’t have a clue. But not knowing what she was doing didn’t stop her from pulling into the driveway of an old farmhouse. The cedar siding had once been white, but had worn until it was grey and weathered.

The porch was huge, but also weathered. Two old rockers sat on either side of a small wooden table with a huge fern.

When she’d thought about where Tyler lived, she’d pictured a condo where everything was white and black, sleek and chrome. Something out of a magazine.

Not this.

She hadn’t seen him since the funeral service. She’d gone with all the guys from the shop and Bart. They’d sat in the back of the church while Tyler sat up front with Jason’s parents.

Even with the length of a church separating them, Tyler’s sadness was palpable. She understood that kind of friendship. That’s what her relationship with Eli was—closer than sisters. She had other friends, but there was a special bond with Eli. The thought of losing her friend was enough to make her knees buckle. It didn’t take any stretch of her imagination to know how hard losing his friend had hit Tyler.

And that’s what she was doing here on his porch. She somehow wanted to ease that pain for him. Before talking herself out of it, Tucker knocked on the door.

Moments later, Tyler opened it, Jace on his shoulder. Jace whimpered. It was the kind of sound that said he was getting over a fussy jag.

“Hi, munchkin. I thought you’d be on your way to Florida by now,” she said. “What’s got you all upset?”

“I told him no,” Tyler said, sounding as upset as Jace. “He was reaching for the stove, and I said no, but I think I must have said it too harshly because he started this.”

“Kids don’t like hearing no, babies, toddlers or teens—doesn’t matter. They want their own way. Being sharp when he tried to touch the stove was a good thing. He could hear in your voice that it’s totally off-limits. There’s no negotiation on the issue. Be consistent. When you say no, mean no. If he gets upset, do what you’re doing—comfort him. Comfort but don’t give in.”

“You think it’s okay to comfort him after I was the one who upset him?” Tyler asked.

“Sure. When you’re upset, even if it’s because of something you did, don’t you want someone to comfort you?”

“No,” came his flat response.

Tucker realized she’d put her foot in it. She thought about the way his ex-colleagues had acted at the funeral home. She felt even more sympathy for him. She held the baking dish out. “I brought a lasagne. I’ll put it in your fridge, if you point the way.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Well, I know the guys would have sent something, too, but it wouldn’t have been safe to eat. Not one of them can do much more than peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. North ran out of jelly once and made a peanut butter and dry Jello sandwich. Of course, he has less taste than the rest of them. He puts peanut butter and mustard on his hot dogs.” She was babbling and knew it, but didn’t know how to stop. There was the fact of Tyler kissing her standing between them. Her babbling helped bridge that fact; at least for her it did. “I don’t know why people bring food when someone suffers a loss, but they do, so I’m here.”

“Thanks.”

She put the lasagne in the refrigerator and couldn’t help but notice it wasn’t filled with other offerings of food from friends. She wanted to do something more for Tyler, but couldn’t think of what.