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“That’s what scares me.” The room seems to drop several degrees. He lowers his voice until it’s barely audible over Palinsky chewing in the corner. “He asked me if he could live with me forever. Last weekend before we shipped out, I’m putting him to bed; he’s got that stupid rabbit tucked under his arm, and he asks if maybe when I come home he never has to go back to his mom’s.”
I don’t know what to say, so I say nothing. The radio static scratches faintly in the pause.
John swallows. “I told him I’d figure it out.”
“You will.”
“He asked if I promised.” John lets out a rough, dry laugh that doesn’t reach his eyes. “I didn’t.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t promise him things I can’t control.” That sounds exactly like John. He scrubs a hand over his face, and when he speaks again, his voice is frayed at the edges. “But, God, Adrien… He looked at me like I’d broken his fucking heart.”
“You’re going home,” I tell him.
He nods once, expression strained. “Yeah.”
“You get home, you go to court, you get your kid.”
“That’s the plan.”
“And then?”
He breathes out. “I hug the shit out of that sweet boy. Then I’m taking him somewhere.”
“Where?” I ask.
“Don’t care.” He closes his eyes for a moment. “Some quiet place. Maybe back where I grew up. Maybe somewhere new. Just want to get him away from Sherry and whatever asshole she’s fucking that month.” His eyes open again. “I want him to have a room he can paint whatever color he wants.”
“That’s your big dream? A painted room?”
“He wants pink.”
I raise an eyebrow. “You okay with pink?”
John chuckles. “I survived BUD/S. I think I can survive a pink bedroom.”
“Debatable.”
John smiles. “He wants a sewing machine too.”
“Does he know how to sew?”
He laughs. “No.”
“Useful purchase.”
“He says he’s gonna learn.”
“Well, then I guess you better buy him one.”
“I will.” There is absolute certainty in that.
“That chicken back yet?” Smith calls out, getting some of the guys to roll their eyes or chuckle.
“Why?” Palinsky asks, snickering. “Want to lose some more money?”
“Oh, fuck off,” Smith snarls. “Maybe we should do best two out of—Hold.” He freezes mid-sentence. The laughter drains away, and bodies snap into cover.
