The Sweetheart Rules (23 page)

“Well…” He shrugged and grinned. “Yeah.”

“You need help.” She laughed. “Or someone to mess all that up for you.”

“I have two someones.” He gestured toward the girls as he settled onto the blanket beside Diana. “One thing I’ve learned with kids is that neat is a goal, not a reality. And I’m learning to be okay with that.”

“Are you sure? So would it drive you crazy if I did this?” She scooped up a little bit of sand and let it drizzle through her fingers and onto the blanket.

“No.” But he grimaced when he said it.

She laughed, and dumped the rest of the sand back on the beach. “I won’t torture you anymore.”

“Diana, you torture me just by being here.” He shook his head. “Okay, that came out wrong. What I mean is that every time I look at you, I want… what I may never be able to have.”

“Why?” She wasn’t sure if she was asking why he wanted her or why he wanted things he couldn’t have. Or if she was really asking herself why she felt the same way. She’d sworn him off, kicked him out of her house after what happened with Jackson, yet here she was, drawn to the very thing she told herself she didn’t want.

“Because I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgave me,” he said. “If you told me to walk away and never talk to you again.”

“To be honest, I’ve thought about saying that,” she said. “But I couldn’t stay mad at you.”

The straw that broke her resolve’s back was seeing the finished renovations. He could have walked away, left the job half done, but he’d shown up and worked for free, even after she had kicked him out of her life.

Between the renovations and the sub sandwiches and the picnic blanket, Mike had done the one thing no other man had ever done:

Taken care of her.

Even after she had broken up with him, and hurt him. He was either a glutton for punishment or a seriously good guy.

She toyed with the edge of the blanket. “I’m sorry for the hurtful things I said in the driveway about your kids and Jackson. I was just so angry. A part of me wanted to blame you for the mistakes Jackson made. The ones I made.”

He covered her hand with his own. “I never should have gotten in the middle of you and Jackson. It was wrong and I’m sorry. I’m not the expert at this parenting thing, you are, and I had no business trying to step on your toes.”

“It’s okay, Mike. You did the best you could. Sometimes that’s all you can ask of yourself.”

“Do you believe that about yourself?”

She looked away and tugged her hand out of Mike’s. Had she given her best as a mom? Had she been the best example, the best leader, for her little family of two? She used to think so, but maybe that was all that was—a delusion in her own mind. That same delusion that had told her she could keep that bottle over the stove and never open it. “I… I don’t know.”

“Diana.” He waited until she met his gaze. “You are one of the best parents I know. No, don’t disagree with me. Jackson got into a little bit of trouble, but what teenager doesn’t?”

She shook her head. “I have no idea what the hell I’m doing. You can’t call me a good parent.”

Mike didn’t know her. He didn’t know how close she had come to putting her son at the bottom of her priority list again. She needed to stay focused on Jackson and not lose that grip she had on what was important.

“Every time I struggled with the girls, I’d think of some piece of advice you gave me. You taught me to loosen up, to get messy”—he scooped a little sand onto the blanket—“and to not be so…”

“Controlled, neat, and organized.”

“Exactly.”

“Life is never controlled, neat, and organized. I’ve learned that firsthand.” She drew her knees up to her chest and looked out over the ocean, so vast, so deep. Somewhere out there was her son, far from her grasp, her heart. Her own child, out of her reach for who knew how long. “When you think it’s all under control and neat, that’s when there’s something about to go wrong.”

Mike took her hand in his again, a big, strong grasp that tethered the loose strings in her chest. “He’ll be okay.”

“You don’t know Sean, Mike. You don’t know how he’ll just leave Jackson somewhere because a better offer came along or a pretty girl caught Sean’s eye. Did you know he once left Jackson in the middle of Target because a fan wanted Sean to come outside and meet her family? Jackson was three, Mike.
Three.
Don’t even get me started on how many times Sean forgot to pick him up from school or blew off visitation without so much as a phone call. You don’t know my life. So please don’t try to fill me up with platitudes.”

He sat there and took her anger, letting it hit him square in the chest, then bounce off again. “I don’t, you’re right. But I know that when I was young, I used to be a lot like Jackson, and though I was lost for a while, I found my way. Jackson will, too, Diana. I know he will.”

“How?” Her eyes filled with tears, and she hugged her knees tighter, as if doing so would gird her against the tough road ahead. “How did you find your way?”

“I found someone who understood. Remember I told you about that recruiter? He told me he’d been on the verge of dropping out of high school when he found the Coast Guard. He made it sound so perfect. A job that mattered, that made a difference every day, and still let you be a little wild. Before the end of that day, I had signed on the dotted line. That recruiter, he kept in touch with me all through basic and every year I was stationed at Kodiak. Even after he retired, he’d send me an e-mail or call me once in a while, just to see how I was doing. When things got hard, I talked to him. He was my sounding board, my advisor, my mentor. I guess he was like a dad to me, if that makes sense.”

“It makes perfect sense.” She smiled. “I’m glad you had someone like that.”

“Me too. Who knows where I would have ended up otherwise?” Actually, he did know where he would have ended up—either the streets or jail—but that wasn’t a picture he wanted to paint for Diana right now.

Diana sighed. “Jackson needs someone like that in his life. I do my best, but I’m a mom, and he really needs a strong male influence. Sean… well, he’s a musician, and he’s about as reliable as a broken watch. If a big gig comes up or some venue needs a fill-in band, he drops everything to be there. I can’t count the number of times I’ve covered for him when he’s disappointed Jackson by canceling at the last second.”

“Then don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t cover for him. Jackson’s old enough to hear the truth. I’m not saying bash his dad, but don’t paint an overly bright picture. I grew up in a house where lies were more common than mosquitoes in the summer, and believe me, it did me no favors. When I finally realized the truth…” He let out a breath. “It was too late. I was already in the Coast Guard, and gone. I didn’t see the point in going back and dredging all that up.”

“Welcome to the Avoiding Tough Stuff Club.” She grinned.

“Hell, I’m a charter member.” Mike knew he’d used the distance from Florida to Alaska as an excuse for not going back home to see his mother. Now she was two hours away, and still he hadn’t made the trip up there.

He watched his girls, running back and forth on the sand with the dogs. Their laughter flowed like a bubbling brook, happy and light, filling the air with a sweet music. Would his girls end up like him? Struggling through their teen years, dabbling in drugs and sex and losing their way? Or would he be able to guide them through the years ahead with a calm but strong hand? He worried he would lose the battle before it even started, being so far away, and so out of touch. But he worried most of all that if he tried this parenting thing full-time…

He’d turn out like his own parents.

So far this summer, he’d give himself a passing grade for Fatherhood 101. Maybe there was hope for him yet.

“I keep saying that one of these days, I’ll go confront my past, but I keep putting it off. Because…” He watched his children, his heart full, and decided this whole strong-and-invulnerable act wasn’t getting him anywhere. He was scared shitless that he’d screw things up with Jenny and Ellie, and maybe admitting that was the first step toward
not
screwing it up. “Because I’m afraid I’ll realize I’m exactly the same. That I’m that dad who’s going to go get the paper one day and never come back. Or that mom who’s going to marry someone who hates her child. The last thing I want to do is put Jenny and Ellie through that kind of hell.”

“You seem to be doing okay with them now.”

“I’m learning. On-the-job training at its best.” He grinned.

“It doesn’t matter how good of a parent you are. You’ll always worry that you’re not there enough or not giving them enough or not listening enough or just not being enough in general.” She picked up a shell and tossed it onto the sand. “And sometimes your worries come true and you realize you didn’t just lose your child—you lost yourself for a while.”

He sensed there were several things she was leaving unsaid. It wasn’t just about finding Jackson at that house, or discovering he’d smoked some weed. There was more, but what it was, Mike didn’t know.

Either way, he had no doubt that everything would work out. Diana was one of those great parents who put their kids first, who built that foundation out of impromptu basketball games in the driveway and movie-and-popcorn nights.

“He’ll be okay, Diana.” Mike gave her hand a squeeze. “He’s a good kid, with a good base. A base
you
provided. You have been a good parent; don’t you doubt that for a second. You’ve been to the first-grade plays and the kindergarten graduations and the birthday parties and the trips to the zoo. That matters to a kid, believe me.”

Her eyes filled with tears. She bit her lower lip, but it still trembled with doubt. “I hope you’re right.”

He placed a finger against that lip. “I know I am.”

They sat there for a moment, until Diana nodded, and he saw the doubt ease. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Anytime.”

A heartbeat passed, another. Then the quiet erupted in laughter, as the girls and dogs came charging over to the blanket, scattering sand everywhere and turning the neatly laid picnic area into a jumbled mess. Mike started to fix it, then figured, what the hell. This was part of having kids. He welcomed the mess. It meant his girls were comfortable and happy, and because of that, so was he.

“Daddy, I’s hungry!” Ellie said.

Mike chuckled. “Okay, okay. Take a seat and I’ll get the subs.” He dispensed the meals to the girls, tossing an extra chunk of bread to the dogs. They all ate together, the girls working to outtalk each other about the fun they’d had, the shells they’d found, how much they wanted to go swimming. The food was gone in a blink of an eye, and then the girls and dogs were back down the beach.

Mike cleaned up the trash and took it over to a nearby can, then helped Diana to her feet. “They eat faster than a bunch of hungry recruits in basic training.”

She laughed. “Wait till they’re teenagers. Then the food bill quadruples.”

“I better get a second job then.” He chuckled. “Actually, I think between the two girls, their college tuitions, and future weddings, I’m going to need to hit the lottery or work until I’m ninety.”

Diana laughed, feeling light in her step, her chest. The day was sunny, the girls were laughing and darting in and out of the water, and the dogs were charging up and down the beach. They’d left Diana’s three at home, and instead brought along Mary and Cinderella. The golden and the sheltie mix played together well, between Mary’s puppy energy and Cinderella’s glad-to-be-out-of-the-kennel exuberance.

“Feeling better?”

“Feeling… lighter. I know there’s a lot left to worry about, but right now”—she turned her face to greet the sun—“those worries seem a million miles away. Thank you for making me feel better.”

“Does that mean I’ll get you to go swimming?”

She shot him a glance. “You just want to see me in my bikini.”

“You never mentioned a bikini.”

“A girl’s gotta have some mystery.” She gave him a teasing smile.

“Sweetheart, you have a lot of mysteries,” he said. “Believe me.”

“Well, let’s clear up one of them right now.” Her gaze met his. He removed his sunglasses, still as a statue, watching as she began unbuttoning her shirt, one tiny button at a time. The tension and desire in his face made her tease him even more, knowing he was standing a respectable distance away and unable to touch her, with his daughters just down the beach. She raised a shoulder, then the other, letting the shirt fall from her shoulders and puddle on the ground, before reaching for the button on her shorts.

“I’ve never wanted to be on a private beach as badly as I do right now,” he said, his voice low and dark. “You are enjoying the hell out of teasing me like this, aren’t you?”

“Of course I am.” She shed the shorts, and stood there in a teeny white bikini that she hoped made everything in him go white-hot in response. Because the way he was looking at her was making her melt, that was for sure.

“Oh my God. You are killing me, sweetheart. Killing me.”

“That’s why I waited to show you my swimsuit.” Her words danced with laughter. “Because I knew it would make you act just like that.”

“Like this?” He lunged for her, and she darted away, laughing. But he caught her hand and swept her into his arms, then charged down the beach.

“Mike!” Diana shrieked and wrapped her arms around his neck, even as she thought how much she loved being in his arms. “Don’t you dare—”

He took a step into the water, held her over it, then yanked her back in, against his chest. It felt warm, safe, comfortable, here in his arms. “Do you trust me?”

Her gaze connected with his, and in that moment, she thought there was nothing and nowhere else she wanted to be than in Mike’s arms. “Yes, Mike. I trust you.”

 • • • 

Do you trust me?

The question had been a joke, but when Diana looked up at him with those big green eyes and said,
Yes, Mike, I trust you
, the enormity of those words hit him full-force. It wasn’t just about trusting him not to throw her in the water; it was about trusting him not to break her heart.