“Can he come to dinner?” Michael asked, before Belle had even gotten all the way over to him.
Of all things, that was the one question that stopped her dead, threw that bucket of water on the cuddle game. Could Cade come to dinner? Her first response was, When pigs fly! She didn’t want to spend the evening with Cade. Didn’t particularly even want to be in the same room with him. But this was Michael asking. Michael, who never asked for anything except more RAM for his computer. “Well, I have a better idea than that. Why don’t I call your dad and see if he’ll come take you out for pizza?” Which was exactly what she did, when Michael’s attention, once again, returned to his game.
“He wants pizza, he wants you,” she said to Cade, when he answered his phone. “And what’s with the pickup truck I saw you in earlier?” A sleek, low-riding sports car was more his style.
“Had to rent something.”
“Well, Michael’s never been in a pickup truck so I don’t know if that’s going to work. You can leave it here and borrow my car.”
“Or I can leave your car right where it is and take him in the truck. Or would the two of you rather meet me somewhere?”
“I prefer the sound of a boys’ night out, while I take a long, hot bath and finish that mystery novel I’ve been trying to finish for the last month.” A night that might have, under different circumstances, been perfect. Tonight, though, the image of a cozy little family of three eating pizza together popped into her thoughts, making her feel, well, not sad for the present so much as sad for the things they’d had in the past. It seemed like such a long time ago. So far away it was difficult trying to remember when they’d been happy. They had been, though. In the early years, when Michael had still been a baby and she had been plunking along through medical school a little at a time, trying to balance motherhood and career. Good times for a while. So many hopes and dreams. Bright futures in the planning. But with a supportive husband for only such a short while before he’d started retreating. “Oh, and I’ve told Michael you’re going to be here for a while, and to get a list ready of things he wants to do with you. And before you tell me there’s nothing he wants to do with you, you’re wrong. There are a lot of things. You have to be patient, getting him to tell you.”
“But he will,” Cade replied. “Isn’t that what you always tell me? Be patient, and he’ll do it. Except he never does, Belle. Never does.”
He did, though. Cade simply wasn’t very good at picking up on the subtle signs. The irony was that that was a typical Asperger’s symptom. Only thing was, while Michael had Asperger’s, Cade did not. And it was Cade’s lack in that area that was, in part, responsible for the death of their marriage. “Then work on it. And, please, not video games and computers. He gets enough of that in his day-to-day life, and he really needs something else.”
“In Big Badger, Texas? What else is there, Belle? You pretty much came to the end of the earth with this job, and I can’t see this place being exactly stimulating for a child.”
“In Big Badger, Texas, you have to use your imagination. Get used to it, Cade. You’re the one who chose to spend six weeks here.” She thought she heard a groan on the other end of the phone. She smiled. “Pick him up in an hour. And make sure he wears his seat belt in that truck. He’s in a new phase where the seat belt bothers him, and he’ll take it off if he thinks you’re not watching. So watch him!”
“Anybody ever tell you to lighten up?”
“Anybody ever tell you that we’re divorced and I’m none of your business any more?” Still smiling, she clicked off. But rather than being angry, she was wondering if having Cade around for a while might be good. Definitely for Michael, but maybe a little bit for her, too? Funny thing was, since the moment she’d heard his voice out there on the Chachalaca, she’d had this peculiar feeling in the pit of her stomach. Suddenly, it was gone.
CHAPTER TWO
OK, so maybe it wasn’t the smartest thing he’d ever done, taking a leave of absence and coming to Texas. Not the most thought-out either, since he’d done it on the spur of the moment. But, damn it, he missed Michael. For all the rough patches in their relationship, and there were plenty of them, his kid was his life, and he hated it that he couldn’t see him any time, like he’d done before Belle had moved to Big Badger.
It was about his brother Robbie, too. It was his birthday today. That was another regret, realizing how much he’d missed. And guilt. Feeling it more acutely as the years rolled on. Recognizing he was well on that track with Michael, too.
So he’d endure Big Badger for a few weeks, see what he really wanted to do after that, and the trade-off for the things he hadn’t figured out yet was extra time to spend with Michael while he was traveling through yet another undecided phase of his life. Maybe, just maybe, he’d find a way to relate to his son better or, at the very least, get Michael to respond to him.
Spending time with Belle was also something he’d given a lot of thought to. He’d caused the divorce. There was no other way to look at it. She’d needed a husband, and he’d needed—well, he still didn’t know the answer to that, did he? But whatever it was, he owed Belle in a big way for the letdown of a husband he’d been, and while he couldn’t make that up to her, he could make some amends by being a better father.
How? He wasn’t sure. There weren’t many options open to him. But somewhere inside those next six weeks, maybe he’d prove himself to Michael, and also to Belle, by showing how he was more than the father who simply appeared at the door to pick up his kid every couple of weeks. What would he get from Belle in return? He didn’t have a clue, but he was willing to take anything. Michael needed that. So did he. Because those were some feelings he had to resolve as well while he was here.
Tall order to fulfill—better dad, better ex-husband. To move forward, though, that was his agenda, otherwise he’d have to step away from them altogether, for Michael’s sake, he told himself. Whatever he did, it had to be for Michael’s sake. And for Belle’s. Because, God knew, he didn’t deserve anything for his own sake.
“So, what kind of pizza do you want?” he asked Michael, as they headed to the truck.
“Mom coming?” Michael asked, trailing along behind Cade by a good ten large steps.
“Mom’s tired tonight. So it’s only going to be the two of us.” Not the best choice of words apparently, because once Michael heard them he stopped, then turned around and headed back to Belle’s front door. A purposeful march, and a very obvious one. Michael wanted his mother, not his dad. Understanding that, Cade felt his heart fall.
“I’ll get her,” Michael said.
“But she doesn’t want to come.” Neither did Michael.
“That’s OK. She likes pizza, too. Just not every night.”
With that, Michael disappeared back into the house, leaving Cade standing alone on the sidewalk. Feeling rotten. Inadequate. Feeling like an idiot for not knowing what to do now. Should he go after Michael, insist that pizza was only for the two of them? Ask Belle to come along to make the situation better? These were the things that eluded him, the things he should know how to manage. But didn’t.
“See, this is the way it always is,” he said, clearly frustrated when Belle appeared at the door with Michael in hand.
“I explained it, and now Michael understands that I’m not part of the pizza party tonight. He was just afraid that I might not fix myself anything for dinner.”
It was more than that. It was Michael showing concern for his mother in a way Cade had never seen. Or had never felt from Michael himself. It was a proud moment, seeing that in his son, yet a profoundly sad one as well. To Belle’s credit, though, for being such a good mother to Michael. “And will you?”
Belle shook her head. “Too tired. I’ll grab