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“Mr. Tyler?”
“Yeah?” I asked.
“Do you like Mom?”
“I think she’s a wonderful woman, yes.”
“No, I mean like—”
I watched him search for the right words, knowing good and well what he was asking me.
“Do you like her like Grandma and Papa like each other?” he asked.
“You mean do I love your mother?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“I do.”
“Does she love you?”
I turned that question over in my head before I answered.
“I think she does, yes.”
“So does that mean we’re gonna be a family?”
“It means I’m going to try to make sure we’re the best family we can be.”
My son’s face fell, and it caused an ache in my heart.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“I thought you’d live with us now, since you’re back.”
“What do you mean?”
“Mom said that you left so you could get smart and then come back for us.”
“What else did Mom tell you about me?”
“That you are awesome, and smart, and funny. And that we are a lot alike. And that you went to a hard school and were the smartest person there.”
“What do you think about all that?” I asked.
His brow furrowed just like hers did whenever she thought hard about a question. It was adorable, and the love I already had for this little boy grew exponentially in that second.
“You know you can talk to me about anything and it’ll stay between us,” I said.
“Really?” Brody asked.
“Really.”
“I don’t want Mom to get sad.”
“I’ll make sure she won’t get sad. Okay, buddy?”
“Mom said you went to go get smart, but one time I heard her crying in the kitchen about a mistake.”
“You heard her crying?”
“Yeah. She does that. In the shower, or the kitchen. I sit down in the corner so she doesn’t do it alone.”
He was an incredible young boy.
“Sometimes I hear her say things that are really confusing.”
“Like what?” I asked.
“Like ‘I should do better,’ or ‘did I do the right thing?’ One time she said ‘I wish you were here,’ but I don’t know who she was talking to.”
I knew who she was talking to. I hadn’t thought my heart could break anymore, until it did.
“I think that I want to have a daddy, like my friends have. But I don’t want it to hurt Mommy. I’m scared that if I want a daddy, she’ll cry about that, too.”
“Come here, Son.”
I held my arms out to Brody, and he raced into my arms. I held him close, burying my nose in his hair. He smelled like a mixture of me and her, like our blood rushed through his veins. I heard him sniffling into my shirt and I closed my eyes, trying to stay strong for him.
He was strong, and selfless, and giving.
Just like his mother.
“I’m going to make you a promise, and I want you to hold me to it, okay?” I asked.
I felt him nod against me, and I tilted his face up to look into his eyes.
“I promise you that no matter what it costs me, you and your mother will be happy. I went and got smart, and now I’m back. I’m sorry that I missed the first eight years of your life, but I don’t intend on missing any more. Okay?”
“Promise?”
“Oh, Son, I can more than promise that.”
He wrapped his arms around me, and I held him close, closer than I had ever held any other person in my life. I rocked him side to side as the restaurant bustled around us, and it took all I had to keep myself together. I loved his boy more than life itself, and the feeling shocked me, how quickly and strongly it came on despite only having been around him for a couple hours.
Then part of my last conversation with Ana came racing back to my mind.
“I know you don’t want to play baseball, but have you ever been to a game?” I asked.
I felt Brody shake his head against my body.
“How about I take you to a Dodgers game one day then?”
“You can do that?” he asked.
“I can do anything,” I said, grinning.
“My first ever baseball game. Yes!”
He pulled away from me and jumped into the air, showcasing his excitement for the restaurant. The waitress gave us our check, and I paid it immediately, knowing I had told Ana I’d only keep him for an hour or two. This time, when I offered Brody my hand, he took it. He walked alongside me across the parking lot and even let me buckle him into his seat. Then we started back to his house.
“When can we go to the game?” he asked.
“I’ll get online and take a look at tickets. Then I’ll call your mother and figure out a good time for us to go.”
“She doesn’t like baseball.”
“Then the two of us can go. We can get hot dogs and sodas and nachos.”
“With cheese?” he asked.
“With anything you want,” I said.
