Page 9 of Fire and Rain
His eyes filled with shadows, but he smiled. “Hey, you’re family, right?”
* * *
Sean choppedthe tomato and tossed it into the salad while Eden washed Maverick’s hands, a job that seemed to require loud protests from Maverick. She’d asked Sean to stay for supper and then confessed she would have to order pizza—again. Something in the way she’d said it told him she was sick of fast food. So, he’d run to the store and come back with a roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and salad fixings.
It wasn’t five-star gourmet, but it was better for them than pizza.
Maverick was the first to reappear, the indignity of having his hands washed forgotten as he ran on tiny bare feet through the house like a knee-high escaped convict.
Eden followed, carrying a small towel, a look of mixed annoyance and humor on her face. “Let me dry your hands, Mavie, and then we’ll have supper with Uncle Sean.”
Sean set the salad on the table with the rest of the meal, laughing to himself as Eden caught the little rascal around the waist and did her best to dry his hands. “You’re good at this toddler wrangling business.”
“Practice.” Eden scooped up her son and carried him to his highchair. “I’m not sure why he hates to have his face and hands washed. You’d think it was torture.”
Then she saw the table. “You set the table, too.”
“Don’t look impressed. I’ve eaten here often enough to know where things are.”
“True.” She sat next to Maverick, while Sean sat across from her where he’d usually sat, leaving Justin’s chair empty. “Thanks so much for everything today.”
“You’re welcome.”
They talked about small things while they ate. The recent eruption of the Shevaluch volcano in Russia that had grounded aircraft in the Aleutians for a day. The beginning of tourist season and the stream of yellow school buses that ferried them around town. The latest bear sighting on base.
Sean looked at Maverick and had to laugh. “Hey, little man, are you going to eat the mashed potatoes or just wear them? You know when you get messy like that, your mommy has to wash your face again.”
Maverick laughed as if Sean had just said something hilarious.
Eden shook her head, a smile on her pretty face. “I used to worry that he was going to starve to death unless I put the food into his mouth. But he keeps growing and gaining weight, so some of it must be getting into his tummy.”
Parenting was outside Sean’s wheelhouse, but that made sense to him. “If he keeps going through the diapers, he ought to be okay, right?”
Eden laughed. “And he does. I’ve been reading about potty-training. I had hoped to have him out of diapers before the next baby…”
The smile fled her face. There would be no next baby—not with Justin as the father.
“There are no words, Eden. I’m so sorry.” That reminded Sean. “I just remembered. I need to get that box of Justin’s things from my car. I keep forgetting to bring them in.”
Those hazel-green eyes went wide for a moment. “Oh. Right.”
Sean wished he knew how to make this easier for her, but he didn’t. “You deal with Mr. Potato Face, while I do the dishes. Then I’ll get the box.”
“Okay.” She seemed to swallow her grief as she stood and got Maverick out of his highchair. “Let’s get you in the tub and then into your pajamas.”
“My bwankie.”
“No, you can’t have your blankie in the tub. It will get wet. But you’ve got your whale and your duckie, right?”
“Duckie!” Maverick darted toward the bathroom.
Sean could only imagine what it had been like for Justin to watch these little domestic moments unfold on his nights at home. He had loved Eden so much and been so proud to be her husband and Maverick’s father. But he would never see the ending of the story he’d begun with Eden, and she and Maverick had no choice but to go on without him.
Shifting his thoughts, he made short work of the dishes and then went to wipe down the table. But when he came to the highchair, he wasn’t about to spend an hour cleaning mashed potatoes out of every crack and crevice. God, kids were messy!
He grabbed the highchair, carried it outside, and set it down on the driveway. Then he hooked up the garden hose, turned it on, and sprayed off the highchair. He left it to sit on the porch while he went inside to grab a towel.
He had almost finished drying it when Eden stepped outside, Maverick in her arms, drinking from a bottle and wearing fuzzy yellow pajamas with feet.
