Page 74 of Hearts Don't Lie
“You’re not stuck. You’re challenged. The frying pan is a cast-iron skillet, babe. Trust me, practically indestructible. He’s your son. And you’re his father. Two of the best people I know. I have absolute confidence you’ll figure it out.”
Hardin had taken a deep breath and let out a jagged sigh, scared shitless. What if Mac had been wrong? But it had turned out she was spot-on. The ensuing days became easier. Especially when he went with his gut.
Conversations ranged far and wide, mostly discovery in nature. Like how Hardin had felt when he found out Stowe was his son and vice versa. Sometimes they tabled a topic until Mac could be there, such as the one about her change of surname.
As he grew more confident, Stowe dug deeper. “Why didn’t you and Mom stay together?”
This was the big one.Shit.Hardin stood and regarded his son, his leg with the wrapped ankle propped on the ottoman, Homer in his lap. The Lop looked like it was in a stupor as the boy loved on him. “How about I get us some lemonade and granola bars and then we’ll talk?”
Stowe looked up, frowning at him. “This is a big one, huh?”
“Yep. It really is.”
“Are you comfortable handing this one by yourself, Dad?”
Hardin almost dropped back into his seat, so stunned was he by being called Dad for the first time. Stowe hadn’t called him Hardin since coming home from the hospital. It had been Bro. Hardin took a deep breath and searched his son’s eyes, startling in their similarity to his, and smiled. “I’m going to do my best. Will that work for you?”
“Yep.” Stowe returned his dad’s smile, his eyes engaging Hardin’s as if he was acknowledging who he was.
“I’ll be right back.”
Hardin came back in with a pitcher of lemonade, two glasses filled with ice, and granola bars he had picked up earlier from the Grind before Mac went to work. He set the tray on the small table between where he and Stowe were sitting, then filled the glasses and handed one to his son before easing back into his chair.
“What happened between your mom and me, well…”
“Why weren’t you there when Mom had me?”
“I didn’t know. After I left for college, there was a series of unfortunate events.” Hardin wanted to touch on some and not others, offer the bird’s-eye view of things. “Your mom’s cell phone was destroyed, its SIM card taken. She didn’t know my number and I didn’t know hers.” He raised his hand at Stowe’s look of disbelief. “I know. Stupid. So fuck—damn—stupid. Uh, let’s keep my bad language between us?”
Stowe swallowed his bite of granola bar and rolled his eyes. “I’ve heard that before, Dad. I’m not a baby.”
“No, you’re not. But you are your mom’s baby no matter how old you are. She’s going to chew my ass out. Dammit, chew my butt out if I keep screwing up.”
“I won’t tell.” Stowe giggled and took another sip of his lemonade.
“In the mindless place that teens succumb to, we just plugged our numbers into each other’s phone, believing that was fine.”
“What about your friends?”
“Nope. Dead ends.”
“That’s so sad. I bet that’s why Mom makes me recite phone numbers from time to time.”
“I expect it is.”
“Do you know her number now?”
“I do. And I also wrote it down in several places. I’m never going to lose her again.”
“Do you know mine?”
“I do. Do you know mine?”
“Yep.” Stowe’s expression was one of pride. “What else happened? Because more had to happen.”
“Everything snowballed.” Hardin scrubbed his hand over his face and sighed long and deep. “We weren’t able to say goodbye before I left. My parents—”
“They were the old people in your room, right?”
