The Hustle (Irreparable 4)

I smile, setting the bags down on the table. Something wet hits me in the side of the face and then I hear Little A giggle from his high chair. Tori covers a laugh, apologizing.

“No assaulting Uncle Tug with green beans, kiddo,” she says, cleaning his tray.

“Someone teach that kid some manners,” I joke, adding, “he’s just like his father,” as I see Brady entering the kitchen.

“Daddy,” Javier sings, running over to me. “You’ve got to come listen to me play the guitar.”

“He’s getting pretty good,” Brady says. “Might be time to get him his own guitar.”

“Yeah, then me and Drew could start a band.” Javier beams and I realize how far he’s come and how happy he is.

“Oh, and we could go on tour.” Drew giggles.

“Seven-year-olds can’t drive tour busses,” I tease, tickling them both.

“We’ll get a driver like Daddy,” Drew argues. “Come on, Javier. We need to go practice.”

I shake my head, watching them run out of the room. “Well shit, dude,” I say to Brady. “They don’t need us anymore. Let’s get them a backpack and send them to Europe.”

He laughs, handing me a beer as I sit at the table. Tori takes Little A upstairs for a bath.

“They’re thick as thieves those two,” Brady says, as I drain half my beer. “They remind me of us when we were kids.”

“Yeah.”

“How are you doing?” Brady asks.

“Each day gets a little easier,” I answer, although in truth, some days are difficult in a way that makes me feel like I can’t continue. But I have Javier, so giving up isn’t an option.

“I’m proud of you,” Brady says quietly before taking a swig of his beer.

His approval brings on an involuntary smile, but then I frown. “I have a long way to go still.”

“And your family will be here for you.” Lifting my beer, I nod and then clink bottles with him before finishing it off. “Shall we go watch the boys rock out?” He stands. “I’ll warn you, though, you may want earplugs.”

“I’ll be there in a minute.”

I hate the way he frowns with a hint of disappointment before he walks away. He doesn’t have a clue how regret strangles me every day or how it feels to hold his son as he cries for a mother he’ll never have. Actually, the latter, he does understand, but when Drew’s mom split, he had Tori. I have no one. There are times I just need a minute to compose myself. To put on the mask that hides the weaknesses I don’t want Javier to see.

If I’m strong, Javier’s strong. And I need him to be strong. I need him to continue to color my world with brilliant colors. If I steal his rainbow, we’ll succumb to sorrow and he won’t continue to thrive.

The thing with kids is they love with their whole heart. They don’t choose who they let in and that leaves them prone to feeling what we’re feeling. The only way to save him pain is to pretend it’s not there and some days the task is harder than others.

Month Six . . .

I drop Javier off at the private school he attends with Andrew and head to the office. My morning starts off with a two-hour board meeting, which consists of the same monotonous topics we discuss monthly.

Once at my desk, I answer a call from an angry client. Mr. Donaldson called to complain about losing a small fortune, investing in a company I’d advised him would flop. Although I remind him he chose to ignore me, he continues to rant about his future expectations. I grit my teeth, silently shouting how in the future he should listen to the people he pays to advise him. He hangs up without affording me the opportunity to suggest he take his business elsewhere.

The number to the school pops up on my cell phone and my heart instantly races with concern. I live in constant fear that something will happen to Javier when we’re apart. I answer the phone, attempting to breathe through my anxiety.

“Mr. Hunter, this is Mrs. Jones, the guidance counselor at Javier’s school.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes, but Javier and your nephew were involved in an incident at school with another boy at recess. I’m going to need you to pick them up. I tried to reach Andrew’s parents, but they’re not answering.”

“What happened?”