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“Oh, it’s nothing. I was just thinking about what programs to download for his education.” I knew she wasn’t lying, but she also wasn’t saying what was really on her mind either.
“We’re heading out tomorrow and should arrive in a few days.”
“Okay. We can’t wait to see you. Your father is out in the orchard, but he sends his love.”
“Love you. See you soon.” I hung up and immediately began packing. My parents would respect my wishes and not interfere in my work, but that isn’t going to stop them from doting on Alex. They have always held out hope that Ariella would return to me and that they would have grandkids someday, but that didn’t seem to be in the cards for me. No matter, I knew that they would spoil him rotten. Now, it’s time to find out if I’m right.
I pull up to Ethan and Amelia’s house to pick up Ariella and Alex. The rest of the team left yesterday so that they would have time to set up the surveillance equipment and show their faces around town as the seasonal ranch hands. Since it’s winter, most of the work is with the few horses they have or pruning the apple trees so they’re healthy for the spring bloom. Our property is large, but the ranch itself is a very small-time operation because it wouldn’t be much of a safe house if there were a lot of people working on it or milling about. However, the four of us should be more than enough help until this situation is resolved.
My fist is poised to knock on the door when Ethan suddenly opens it. “Come on in, Pat. Breakfast is almost ready.”
“Patrick!” yells Alex as he comes tearing through their house. “You’re here!” He barrels into me, almost knocking me to the ground as he wraps his arms around my waist.
“I wouldn’t miss this adventure for the world! Are you excited to ride some horses and play in the snow?”
“Yes! I’m great at riding horses. I have one back home named Lightning McQueen because he’s fast!” He runs back into the house and up the stairs.
“He is an exuberant little boy,” Ethan says with a smile. “He’s been great with Xander, helping Amelia feed him. He sits on the couch and holds him while Xander drinks from his bottle. It’s the only time he sits still long enough for you to catch your breath. You’re going to have your hands full with that one,” he jests.
“I was like that when I was growing up. I had so much energy that my parents made me run the length of the farm and back. It’s why I run almost ten miles a day now, to expel the energy pent up inside.”
As I head inside, I hear Ethan mumble, “Why does that not surprise me?”
When I get to the kitchen, I stop in my tracks. Ariella is holding Xander and cooing at him while Amelia makes breakfast. An image of her holding our son comes unbidden, and I have to force myself to breathe.
Ariella notices my arrival and gives me a soft smile. She hands Xander over to me when she notices my outstretched arms. I bounce him around, and he giggles, saying, “Da-da.” My eyes widen in surprise.
“He said his first word?” I ask.
Amelia laughs. “Da-da is actually his second word. His first word was ‘No!’ I’m still trying to get him to say ‘Ma-ma,’ but sadly, I’ve been unsuccessful.”
A tiny smile graces Ariella’s face as I continue to bounce Xander around the kitchen. I turn to her and say, “I’ve never been good with kids, but they seem to like me anyway.”
Ethan walks into the kitchen and says, “Don’t let him fool you. He’s great with kids.” He kisses his wife’s temple and begins taking the plates out of the cupboard. The next thing I know, I hear a plbthh followed by a foul odor emanating from the miniature human I’m carrying.
I hold him out as far away from me as my arms will allow. “Um. I think someone needs to take care of this little guy. He may have soiled his diaper.” Ethan laughs but takes him from me and checks it.
“Nope. Just a little toot. I guess you bring out the best in him, Pat.”
“Lucky me.”
A loud thump, thump, thump comes from the end of the hallway. I check to see what the noise is, only to find Alex trying to lug a big suitcase down the stairs.
“Need some help with that, Buddy?” I ask him.
With his tongue sticking out and a determined look, he grunts, “Nope. I got it. I’m super strong.”
Thump, thump, thump. I try not to cringe as the wheels make contact with the steps, thankful that the stairwell is carpeted and not easily damaged. Eventually, he gets down to the landing and places his hands on his hips, his chest heaving with exertion.
“See? Mom says I can do anything if I set my mind to it!”
“She’s right, and you did a great job! I think that suitcase weighs more than you do!” He flexes his arms, and two little bulges appear. My eyes become huge with surprise as I reach out and squeeze his small muscles.
“Whoa! Those are some serious guns! I bet it’s because of all the tiny trees you eat!”
“Yeah! And also because I work out with Kiernan sometimes. He lets me use the heavy five-pound weights!” he exclaims.
Kiernan? It saddens me that he doesn’t call him Dad. There’s something special in the word, and it symbolizes a close relationship between a father and son or a father and daughter. I hope to have a child someday and that we’ll have a tight-knit relationship. I certainly don’t want my kid to call me “Patrick” or “Sir.”
