She smiled. “Good. And how’s your day been?”
I turned to her, looking into her soft, blue eyes, the eyes that made me lose track of time. I struggled to find the words.
She was patient.
“It’s been…the best day of my life.”
Her eyes immediately filled with emotion, as if that meant the world to her. “That makes me happy.”
Derek came back inside. “Hello, Cleo.”
She pulled her gaze off my face and looked down at him. “Hey, Derek.” She smiled, clearly smitten with my son.
He grabbed her hand. “Want to see the frogs?” He pulled her away without waiting for an answer, just as comfortable with her as he was with me and my brother.
She laughed. “Yes. I love frogs.”
I turned to watch her walk away, see the way she held my son’s hand. I also noticed the way her ass looked in those jeans, a perfect nectarine, as my brother had described on occasion. She had a petite frame that was healthy, long legs that were toned from walking everywhere. I shifted my gaze and looked at my son instead, trying to pretend that hadn’t just happened.
We sat on the patio with the fireplace burning, the lights on the porch glowing dimly.
Derek sat across from me, and Cleo sat beside me. We’d just finished our pizza, Derek taking charge of the conversation by talking about all the details of our day. “I caught five fish.” He held up his hand, all his fingers extended. “Dad caught more, but I lost count.”
I missed him hearing him call me that. Dad.
“What are you guys doing tomorrow?” Tucker asked.
“Going on a hike.” We’d fished several days’ worth. I wanted to do something else, something to get our blood going.
“I wonder if we’ll find bears,” Derek said excitedly.
“Hope you can climb fast,” Cleo said with a chuckle.
“I’d just run downhill,” Derek said. “They hate that.”
“I’ll be right back.” Cleo left the table and went inside, her hand moving to my shoulder before she stepped away.
The touch made me suck in a breath, made me grip my beer a little tighter.
“Sick of your dad yet?” Tucker asked.
“No, he’s the coolest guy ever,” Derek said. “I wish I could see him every day.”
Tucker smiled and rubbed his back. “I’m sure that will happen soon.”
I could live in that cabin forever, just Derek and me, and maybe Cleo…whenever she stopped by.
Cleo returned a minute later, carrying a round cake with candles. “Happy birthday to you…” She started to sing, and Tucker and Derek joined her. Derek was the loudest, happy to celebrate me.
I smiled at him, not caring about the cake or the celebration, but the fact that he was there with me.
When the song was over, I blew out the candles.
“Happy birthday, Dad!” Derek clapped. Then he grabbed one of the candles and sucked the frosting off the bottom.
This moment was a dream come true, the sight of him licking the candle, the firelight casting a glow on his face. It was sad to think I was actively making memories for him to enjoy when I was gone, that he would view these moments differently when he was an adult…the way I did with my own father. I was living in the past while in the present.
Cleo sliced up the cake and served it to everyone—except me. “You don’t have to eat it, Deacon.”
“I’ll take one.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded.
She smiled and put a slice on a plate before she handed it to me.
I cut into the cake with my fork, taking a bite of the sugary treat, my senses on fire because I never had sweets. But it was a special day. It was one of the days when I felt like everyone else.
“Now, it’s time for presents.” Cleo looked at Derek. “Go get it.”
“Okay.” Derek left the table and entered the house.
“I hope he’s the only one who got me something,” I said, glancing at my brother.
Tucker rolled his eyes. “Me being here is my gift.”
“And Cleo has done more than enough…” I didn’t look at her as I said it, knowing I would never get a better gift from anyone for the rest of my life.
Derek came back, giving me a piece of paper that was unwrapped. He placed it on the table in front of me before he got back into his chair.
It was a page from a coloring book, a rocket on the moon. He’d colored the rocket with beautiful colors, the surface of the moon slightly yellow. With a pencil, he’d sketched two astronauts on the surface in their space suits, the American flag plastered on the material. They both had dark hair, brown eyes, and one was considerably taller than the other. At the top, he wrote, Happy Birthday, Dad! I gripped it with both hands and stared at it for a long time, knowing that was supposed to be the two of us, exploring the galaxy. I took a deep breath as I looked at it, feeling my eyes glisten with tears, unashamed if anyone could see. There was only the sound of the fire crackling in the fireplace, the crickets in the fields, the occasional ribbits from the frogs.