Read Online Second Chances by T. A. Webb - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: T. A. Webb
Tags: Romance
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see him smiling and happy after this morning. It was kind of weird to see him like this though—as Dad. Usually he was so blustery and macho and imposing. Or tried to be anyway—I wasn’t anybody’s bitch. But to see him like this, this was new. And I liked it.
“Why don’t you jump back in the truck and we’ll go and get some dinner in a minute, buddy. Okay?” he told his boy.
Jason climbed back in through his dad’s side of the truck after giving me one more glance, and Antonio closed the door. I came up beside him and we stood there, side by side with our backs leaned against the cab. I figured I needed to be a little discreet here, so I pulled out the envelope and reached over and slid it in his front pants pocket.
“Here,” I explained, “we can talk about the details later. The paper for you to sign’s in there. I’ll get it from you tomorrow at the gym. Go have dinner with your kid. I need to get going.”
“You can come with us if you want to. Jason usually wants hamburgers or chicken fingers. But I make him eat healthier stuff and we might go to the sushi place over on Piedmont,” he said, looking kind of hopeful.
“I can’t. Brian and I have plans tonight. We’re having dinner with my dad.”
He looked down, frowned a little, and then back up at me. His gaze met mine for a minute and I wasn’t sure exactly what I saw there. It wasn’t bad, just like he had something he wanted to say but didn’t quite know how, or what. Then it was gone.
“Cool. You guys have a good night,” he said quietly.
He stuck out his hand, and I looked down at it. We never shook hands. I reached out, took it and gave it a firm shake. It went on for maybe three seconds longer than it should have. Then he pulled me into a man hug, bumping shoulders, and let me go with a squeeze. He climbed up in that fucking ridiculous huge truck thing, buckled himself and Jason up, then left.
If I didn’t know better, I would think he was compensating for something with that monstrosity. Hah. But I did know better.
Chapter 7
December 2002
C HRISTMAS in my family always meant family dinner at Dad’s on the Sunday before the actual holiday. It started out that way so that each of us siblings could spend Christmas Day with our own spouses and kids, and any single sibs could catch a fucking break from the noise of early rising, over-sugared kids. Now, though, we all had someone. I loved my nieces and nephews, but I was more than ready for them to go back home after about two hours of playing, screaming, and fighting.
Last year was the first one without Mom, and we all managed to make it the whole meal without crying. She’d loved the holidays so much, and it felt like a hole in my heart the whole time I sat there and looked at her empty chair. Nobody could sit there. And Dad glanced at it every ten seconds so sadly.
I couldn’t take it again, so this year I went over early and Brian and I decorated a tree. Put up all the lights and even wrapped garland and fairy lights around her chair. I tried to put the reindeer out on the front lawn, one on top of the other like they were humping, but Dad took them down and said Mom would’ve kicked our asses.
While the holidays weren’t what they used to be, we were at least able to celebrate again without having to feel like it was forced.
And damn, but the kids loved it. Brian’d called each one of my brothers and sisters and gotten favorite toy names, clothes sizes, and video game preferences. He took this huge-ass list and the Jeep out to the malls and came back late Friday night with more presents than I’d seen. Ever. We’d stayed up late that night, then again on Saturday wrapping and tagging everything.
Brian was an only child. He’d never gotten close to any of the foster families he was with as a teenager, and of course the Egg and Sperm Donors, as he called his parents, were God only knows where. Fuck ’em.
Every year, on Christmas and his birthday, I swore if
“Why don’t you jump back in the truck and we’ll go and get some dinner in a minute, buddy. Okay?” he told his boy.
Jason climbed back in through his dad’s side of the truck after giving me one more glance, and Antonio closed the door. I came up beside him and we stood there, side by side with our backs leaned against the cab. I figured I needed to be a little discreet here, so I pulled out the envelope and reached over and slid it in his front pants pocket.
“Here,” I explained, “we can talk about the details later. The paper for you to sign’s in there. I’ll get it from you tomorrow at the gym. Go have dinner with your kid. I need to get going.”
“You can come with us if you want to. Jason usually wants hamburgers or chicken fingers. But I make him eat healthier stuff and we might go to the sushi place over on Piedmont,” he said, looking kind of hopeful.
“I can’t. Brian and I have plans tonight. We’re having dinner with my dad.”
He looked down, frowned a little, and then back up at me. His gaze met mine for a minute and I wasn’t sure exactly what I saw there. It wasn’t bad, just like he had something he wanted to say but didn’t quite know how, or what. Then it was gone.
“Cool. You guys have a good night,” he said quietly.
He stuck out his hand, and I looked down at it. We never shook hands. I reached out, took it and gave it a firm shake. It went on for maybe three seconds longer than it should have. Then he pulled me into a man hug, bumping shoulders, and let me go with a squeeze. He climbed up in that fucking ridiculous huge truck thing, buckled himself and Jason up, then left.
If I didn’t know better, I would think he was compensating for something with that monstrosity. Hah. But I did know better.
Chapter 7
December 2002
C HRISTMAS in my family always meant family dinner at Dad’s on the Sunday before the actual holiday. It started out that way so that each of us siblings could spend Christmas Day with our own spouses and kids, and any single sibs could catch a fucking break from the noise of early rising, over-sugared kids. Now, though, we all had someone. I loved my nieces and nephews, but I was more than ready for them to go back home after about two hours of playing, screaming, and fighting.
Last year was the first one without Mom, and we all managed to make it the whole meal without crying. She’d loved the holidays so much, and it felt like a hole in my heart the whole time I sat there and looked at her empty chair. Nobody could sit there. And Dad glanced at it every ten seconds so sadly.
I couldn’t take it again, so this year I went over early and Brian and I decorated a tree. Put up all the lights and even wrapped garland and fairy lights around her chair. I tried to put the reindeer out on the front lawn, one on top of the other like they were humping, but Dad took them down and said Mom would’ve kicked our asses.
While the holidays weren’t what they used to be, we were at least able to celebrate again without having to feel like it was forced.
And damn, but the kids loved it. Brian’d called each one of my brothers and sisters and gotten favorite toy names, clothes sizes, and video game preferences. He took this huge-ass list and the Jeep out to the malls and came back late Friday night with more presents than I’d seen. Ever. We’d stayed up late that night, then again on Saturday wrapping and tagging everything.
Brian was an only child. He’d never gotten close to any of the foster families he was with as a teenager, and of course the Egg and Sperm Donors, as he called his parents, were God only knows where. Fuck ’em.
Every year, on Christmas and his birthday, I swore if
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