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“A.J. has that effect on people.”
“Everyone but his mother,” he said bitterly.
“Oh, Gabe.”
“He was a toy to dress up and shop for, and when she tired of playing, she ignored him. She never got up in the night with him. She refused to deal with the icky side of parenting, as she called it. A couple of times she went shopping and left him home alone.”
“That’s hideous. You must have been terrified.”
“After the second time, I hired a live-in nanny, but I couldn’t bring myself to ban Tara from him. She was his mother. I kept hoping and praying things would change. I begged her to attend counseling.” He released a long, shuddering breath. “She laughed and said there was nothing wrong with her. I was the problem. She accused me of being an old stick in the mud who didn’t know how to have fun.”
He sounded sad and so alone. Brooke slid both arms around his trim waist and learned against his solid, sturdy back. The soft cotton of his shirt felt cool and smooth against her cheek. “I’m sorry.”
“Me, too. It was a fiasco. A misery I couldn’t fix. All I could do was pray for things to change. The day she died, she had A.J. with her. She’d told the nanny they had a playdate.” He scoffed. “A.J. was about eight months old. Tara was the one doing the playing. A.J. was her smoke screen.”
Brooke’s stomach clutched. “She was seeing someone else?”
He nodded. “Police investigating the accident found text messages on her phone. She was texting her lover when the accident occurred. He wasn’t her first, but idiot Gabe was the last to know.”
“A.J. was with her? Was he okay?”
“Not at first.” He put his hand over hers where they clasped together around his middle. “He was unconscious. Cuts and bruises everywhere. I was scared out of my mind.”
“I know.”
“Yes, you do.” He slowly pivoted, bringing them heart to heart. “I thought I was going to lose him. He looked tiny and helpless connected to machines, his eyes swollen shut. I sat beside his bed, praying, crying, helpless.”
Gabe hated being helpless. He was a doer and a fixer, a protector. To see his marriage crumble and his son severely injured must have tested his faith greatly. “Thank God he survived,” Brooke said quietly.
“I thank Him every single day. Every day when that little guy wakes up with that big smile on his face without brain damage, without paralysis. I’m blessed and grateful.” He turned them both toward the glass and toward the two playing children. “Look at him out there. I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to him.”
The old familiar fear pushed into Brooke’s thoughts, but she fought it down. Nothing was going to happen to A.J. Not on her watch.
Chapter Fourteen
The trip to the hospital proved less traumatic than the previous night. Darlene seemed to be responding to the antibiotics and steroids enough to reassure her daughter. By the time the foursome returned to Clayton, Macy’s shy smile was back in place and she was eager for lunch in the town square.
Yellow daisies and bluebells lit a path as Brooke carried the picnic basket across the green expanse of grass to the gazebo. With childish shrieks of summer joy, Macy and A.J. rushed off toward the swings. Beside Brooke, Gabe toted an ice chest of drinks.
“Stopping for burgers would have been easier,” he said, clumping the cooler onto the wooden table.
Brooke made a face. “But not nearly as much fun.”
“Guys go for easy.”
She laughed. “That is so not true. Nobody works as hard as you do. Easy is not the way you do anything.”
“Tell that to my employees at the Lucky Lady. If not for the telephone, they’d probably fire me.”
Brooke unpacked the sandwiches and lined them on the table. “They can’t fire you. You’re the owner.”
“See how smart you are. No wonder I like you.”
“Seriously, Gabe, thank you.”
He lifted a brow. “For?”
“Today. Yesterday.” Every single moment that you’ve given me. “I’m not sure I could have handled all this drama without you.”
