To Love a Cop (23 page)

She gave her son a laughing glance. “I swear, if not for the burden of being a mother, I’d have locked myself in after closing and spent the night on that bed.”

“You would not!”

“Why not?” she teased. “I had a great bed, a faux fur throw, amazing pillows, a lamp and a book in my purse. What more could I want?”

Ethan was laughing by this time. “Dinner?”

“I could have ordered in.”

“Your customers might have been a little disconcerted to find crumbs on the bed when they tried it out.”

“Yeah!” Jake chimed in.

“I didn’t stay, did I?” She made a face. “Usually I don’t covet what we sell that much, but the bed...”

Huh. He’d have to go try it out, Ethan thought. Maybe down the line...

No. Slow and easy, remember? And, hey, his mattress had worked out just fine this afternoon. He suppressed a grin at the memory, and then saw Jake eyeing him suspiciously.

Yeah, kid, if only you knew
, he thought in amusement.

Now Laura was giving him a minatory look, as if she’d read his mind. Her fault for raising the subject of beds.

On the drive back to their house, Jake said suddenly, “Are you coming in when we get home?”

Ethan glanced into the rearview mirror. “Probably not. We’ve had a good time, haven’t we?”

“Oh.” The boy went silent.

With tomorrow being Sunday, Ethan wanted to suggest they do something together, but it would be smarter to back off a little. He couldn’t expect Laura to make the next move, though; he kind of thought it was now his turn. Still, he wanted to see how the wind blew.

“My sister and her family are in town this weekend,” he said, which was true. When he’d gone over—was it just this morning?—he’d half intended to invite Laura and Jake to Sunday dinner at his parents’ tomorrow. He felt the tug of temptation now, but resisted it. “You two have plans?”

“Boring stuff,” Laura said brightly. “Grocery shopping, laundry, housecleaning, bills. And homework, right, Jake?”

From the backseat came an “Oh, yippee.”

Her laugh sounded a little forced.

Want to ditch all that and come meet my family?

It hovered on the tip of his tongue, but he needed to feel a lot more sure of her than he was before going there.

He was both relieved and sorry to be coming up on their house. He signaled and pulled into the driveway behind her car.

“Thanks for dinner, Ethan,” Laura said, promptly opening her door. “I think I’m falling behind on the meal count. I owe you a few.”

She didn’t say,
Especially since you didn’t stay for lunch today.
She didn’t have to.

“Ask and I’m your man.” Poor phrasing, and it came out sounding hoarse, but he meant it.

She’d hopped out, but now looked back in at him, her hand on the door. “Monday?” she said tentatively, hope on her face.

He couldn’t imagine she loved cooking after a long day at work, but that didn’t keep him from an immediate, “If you mean it, we’re on. Unless,” he began to add, but she finished for him.

“Something comes up.” She rolled her eyes, but humorously, and there was no edge in her voice. “I understand. I’m usually home by five-thirty. Anytime after that.”

They said their goodbyes, and he didn’t back out until they had disappeared inside and he saw lights come on.

* * *

“
S
O, TELL ME
about your week.” Randall leaned back in his chair, lifting one leg and clasping his hands around the knee. Jake wasn’t stupid. He knew what the guy was trying to say with his body.
We’re friends, just talking.

Uh-huh. Sure. Slouched low on the sofa, Jake stared at his feet. “I didn’t shoot anybody,” he said disagreeably.

“I think I’d have heard about it if you had. Okay. Let’s try this. Tell me one bad thing about your week, one good.”

“It rained all week so I couldn’t do anything outside.” Which was a bummer when it was practically June. What if it rained all summer?

The therapist chuckled. “I’ll give you that. I’m a runner. I had to use a treadmill all week.”

Jake was interested enough to lift his head. This guy wasn’t big, like Ethan; he wasn’t much taller than Mom, in fact, but he looked strong in that skinny way runners did.

“Do you do marathons or anything like that?” he asked, surprising himself with his curiosity.

“I ran the half marathon here in Portland last year. I’m training now for a full marathon. I’m even thinking I’d like to run the Boston Marathon one of these years.”

“Sweet,” Jake said, impressed. He couldn’t imagine running for
hours
without stopping for rests.

“So. Good thing,” Randall reminded him.

“Um...Ethan took Mom and me to this place called the Portland Rock Gym.”

Randall nodded. “I’ve been. It’s fun, isn’t it?”

“It was awesome! Even Mom tried it. She was good,” Jake admitted, somewhat grudgingly. She’d been totally fearless, which he hadn’t expected. “Ethan was great. And he’s certified to belay, so we didn’t have to have anyone else help us.”

“And, hey, indoors!”

Jake grinned. “Yeah. I liked it so much, Mom’s thinking about signing me up for one of their summer camps. Except...” He made a face. “They’re kind of expensive.”

“You think she’ll be able to swing it?”

“I don’t know. ’Cuz I want to do a basketball camp and a baseball camp, too.”

“What do you do during the summer if you’re not at some kind of sports camp?”

Jake shrugged. “Go hang out with my cousins. But that’s boring.”

They kept talking. Randall didn’t ask about guns or anything like that. Jake didn’t see what the point was, but, well, he was kind of getting to like Randall. He was better than that guy Mom had made him see when he was a little kid, after... Well,
after
.

Mom looked so hopeful when Randall walked him out, Jake stared at her in amazement. What did she think was going to happen? He’d get fixed in one hour? Like an oil change on the car? Roll him in, the guy goes to work, drive on out, clean oil, new filter?

Jake didn’t
feel
fixed.

Except, this had been a good week. He’d actually kind of lied to Randall. The climbing wall was awesome, but what he kept thinking about was the way Ethan had talked to him Saturday. The steel on his face and in his voice when he said,
I’m telling you the truth. None of it was your fault.

What happened when Marco died had blurred for Jake, because he’d been such a little kid. He didn’t remember that much from when he was five. Except he could still close his eyes and see Marco, mostly after he’d fallen. The blood and— He shivered and blanked that out. But he knew he hadn’t meant to pull the trigger. He wasn’t even sure he exactly
had
. The gun had been lots heavier than he’d thought, and as he was climbing down from the counter he’d kind of started to drop it because his hands weren’t big enough, and then there’d been a crack of thunder and Marco—

Dad always said not to touch his gun. That was the part that he hated to remember, because he had disobeyed. Everything bad happened because he’d wanted to show Marco Dad’s gun.

But what Ethan said was burned into his brain.

Your dad carried a Glock that didn’t even have a safety. It didn’t allow for an “oh, oops,” for you to learn a lesson. He didn’t mean anything bad to happen, either, but he was the adult. A law enforcement officer, no less. He screwed up.

Jake had loved his father. It was getting harder to picture his face, but sometimes he could still close his eyes and see Dad laughing, or feel his hands steadying Jake’s stance as he swung a plastic bat or settled the too-big motorcycle helmet on his head. If it was all Dad’s fault...did that mean Dad was really a bad person?

Except, Jake believed the other thing Ethan had said, too, about how it was okay to still love Dad because he
wasn’t
bad, he was really a good man. One who made a terrible mistake.

Two terrible mistakes.

If he was really a good man, he wouldn’t have left Mom and me.

Sometimes Jake burned with anger when he thought about Dad deciding to check out, never mind what would happen to his kid.

The other thing was he
wanted
to blame his father. Because then he didn’t have to believe it was all his fault because he’d done something Dad said not to do.

And did that make
him
a bad person?

Only then he’d remember how strong Ethan had felt with his arms around him, and that last half headlock, half hug before they went inside. And he could tell Ethan wasn’t faking.

Maybe Dad really did screw up, and then he couldn’t face his own mistake and what it meant. If that’s the way it was...
Walking out to the car beside Mom after the counseling session, Jake’s knees got weak, the relief was so humongous.

Not my fault.

But he was my dad.

Once they were in the car, Mom waited before starting it until Jake had fastened his seat belt, then said, “Ethan called while I was waiting for you. He thinks he can get away Saturday so we can do something if you’d like.”

He felt a burst of pleasure, but he also looked at her sort of suspiciously. She hadn’t asked how the session with Randall had gone, in that bright voice like she usually did. Instead, she sounded...hopeful. As if Ethan coming into their lives had done something to her, too.

He didn’t like that when he tried to picture Dad now, he sometimes saw Ethan.

Who would never have left us.

Even thinking that made Jake feel guilty, which tangled him up inside again, except...he kept having this weird, floaty feeling, as though he was one of those birthday balloons, bobbing toward the ceiling.

Not my fault.

But not his fault meant it
was
Dad’s fault. And if Jake didn’t keep believing in his father, who would? And then he felt sick again, and then...

Not my fault
popped into his head again, and he didn’t even know his mother was talking.

* * *

“
T
HERE’S THE OCEAN
,” Jake exclaimed, from the backseat of Ethan’s Yukon.

Laura smiled at the excitement that made him sound a lot younger than he had lately. She had to admit, there was something about the sight of the vast Pacific and the long, pale beach that had anticipation bubbling in her, too. It had been ages since she and Jake had done anything like this. Maybe for a vacation, she’d find herself thinking, but those came only once a year, and Seaside was only an hour and a half drive from Portland. Perfectly possible for a day trip.

Naturally, it was Ethan who’d suggested this. Ethan, who’d driven with the rock-solid competence with which he did everything while keeping Jake and her both laughing.

He’d insisted they get going early and make a full day of it. “We can stay for dinner, too. Watch the sun go down.”

It was the first of June, which almost qualified as summer. Going to the beach made it official.
And
it was sunny.

He parked not far from the Promenade, the oceanfront boardwalk that distinguished Seaside from other Oregon Coast towns. Salty air filled Laura’s nostrils the minute they got out, a breeze making the morning a little chilly. So, okay, only sort of summer, she decided, pulling her sweatshirt on as Jake did the same.

“Can we go to the beach first?” he begged.

Pocketing his keys, Ethan grinned at him. “I was thinking we should do some shopping. Browse some boutiques. What do you say?”

Jake blew a loud raspberry.

Laughing, Ethan said, “Okay, no shopping. What say we wander the Promenade for a while, though? Once we go to the beach, we’ll be sandy and maybe wet. I seem to remember some bumper cars. Then have lunch,
then
hit the beach.”

Jake loved the idea of bumper cars. Ethan raised an eyebrow at Laura, who said, “That sounds like a plan to me.”

From that point, they wandered. Even Jake was awestruck by the setting and the people. Joggers and cyclists and in-line skaters wove in and out among the strolling pedestrians. Good smells came from restaurants, and window displays in the dreaded boutiques caught even his gaze. They agreed to buy a bag of taffy, but wait until they were back from the beach. Ethan whipped them all at some arcade games, but reluctantly watched while Jake and Laura drove bumper cars.

“Pretty sure I’m too big to fit,” he said ruefully, his expression reminding her of a boy’s when he was denied a treat.

They played miniature golf—Jake turned out to have the magic touch with a putter—and finally had a lunch of hot dogs and chili.

The wind was sufficient that Ethan announced his intention to buy a kite. Laura found a place on the Promenade to sit and watch the waves roll in while man and boy disappeared on their quest, returning triumphant.

They all took off their sandals and left them with a bunch of others, and found an empty enough stretch of sand for Jake to run with the kite until it caught enough air to take flight. Ethan let the string unreel, calling encouragement until the purple and gold dragon soared upward.

When it dipped and started a sharp dive, Laura groaned, but this time Ethan took off running, doing something with the string, and the kite rose again.

She felt happiness so acute, it almost hurt. Did Ethan have any idea how much difference he was making to Jake? Or her?

The
her
part frightened her a little, if she was truthful. What she felt was so huge, it sometimes swelled inside her chest until she didn’t think she could contain it. What if Ethan was too good to be true? She wasn’t that special. What did he see in her? What if all he felt was some kind of obligation? Poor, sad widow and boy, left all alone. He took seriously the protect and defend part of his job. He must know they needed him.

Shading her eyes against the sun as she watched Ethan let Jake hold the reel and patiently coach him on how to control the kite’s dips and spirals, Laura thought,
That’s not all it is.