Page 79 of A Hero Comes Home

Yep.

Does she think I’m going to knock the guy’s lights out?

Yep.

“Really?” Good arched his brows. “I’m not sure I would be. Don’t get me wrong. K-4 is a good guy, and he and Sally are just friends, but still . . .”

“Really.” And Jake did the only thing he could in the circumstances. He walked over to introduce himself. To his surprise, there was no hint of the red tide on viewing his “competition.” He stretched out his hand and said, “Hey, you must be Kevin Fortunato, the guy who catches more fish than God, according to my kids.”

Fortunato put Luke down and gave Jake’s hand a firm shake, just like Good had. “Welcome home, man. You have a great bunch of kids.”

“I know,” Jake said, looking at his boys, who were at his side now, gazing at him with ill-founded pride. “Thanks for being so good to them while I was gone.” The hidden message being “And now I’m back.”

But no, that’s not what was on his mind. What he didn’t say, but thought, was And I hope you’ll be as kind, and fatherly, to them if—when I leave again.

As for Sally, who’d come up and looped her arm in his, that was another story.

On the other hand, bozo, leave my wife the fuck alone.

Crap! Even I recognize “Dog in the Manger.” When did I turn into such a selfish bastard? Oh, that’s right. I always was.

“Did you say something, honey?” Sally asked him.

“Nothing important,” he replied, then leaned down and asked, “How’s my breath?” Maybe it was time for another cinnamon fix, although he was pretty sure the boys chewed the rest of the gum, which they’d unfortunately left on the kitchen counter.

“You smell like peanut butter.”

He thought a moment. “Works for me.”

Chapter 16

She was shaken, all right, or was that “all shook up”? . . .

The next few days went off smoothly with no major glitches.

She and Jake slept together and made love every night, sometimes several times a night. His nightmares hadn’t recurred, and he hadn’t said or done anything more to indicate he was thinking about leaving. Although there had been that moment back at the diner on Sunday when he’d noticed the kids’ affection for Kevin. The expression on his face had been pure hurt, wounded pride of the fatherly sort.

But that moment had passed, and plans were tentatively proceeding on her bakery addition, with Jake’s help. Her accountant was presently studying the figures that Jake had compiled, after which she—rather, they—would decide whether to make an offer for the adjacent property. She kept insisting that this was not something she could do on her own.

And since the kids would start back to school on Monday, the week before Labor Day, there had been all the chaos of school prep, which amused Jake to no end, never having been around for this annual ritual before. Like school supplies and new backpacks that had to have just the right superhero or kid theme imprinted on them. Plus, the agony—agonizing to the kids, anyhow—of a shopping expedition to purchase new underwear, socks, and athletic shoes. Mark got lots of hand-me-down clothes from Matt, Luke got a lesser amount from Mark since by then some of them were worn out, but all the boys always got some new T-shirts, shorts, and pants.

This year, Sally had passed the job on to Jake, who’d remarked, “Easy peasy!”

Hah! How quickly he learned!

By the time he was done, he swore, “Never again! We’re ordering everything from the internet next year.”

“Bite your tongue,” Sally had replied. “We support local in this house. Remember, I’m a local business. How would I feel if people ordered their cookies and cakes online?”

Duly chastened, Jake had muttered something about him having to be somewhere else at this time next year.

She and the kids had already practiced that hero song several times this week, after school, when Jake was off to rehab, and they weren’t half-bad, but she hadn’t given them a definite go-ahead yet. It could be either a huge success or a monumental bomb. She wasn’t sure she was ready for that kind of risk.

And she had decided on another monster cookie to offer for the holiday. They were heart-shaped chocolate chip cookies, covered with white icing, piped along the edges in blue, with the simple message “My Hero” in red across its center. A zillion calories, which would launch a sugar high that lasted for days. She would, of course, call the cookies, which were the size of teacup saucers, Heroes.

Jake would probably hate them. Not the cookies themselves. He loved chocolate chip cookies, especially those with chopped walnuts, but the idea itself? No way! She had no intention of asking his permission. This was business, she told herself.

Despite all the seeming peace, Sally felt uneasy. The air seemed electric with something. Was she just looking for trouble, or was this the calm before the storm? And what would that storm entail?