I remembered that.
Well, actually, I hadn’t realized at the time that he was sick.
I also hadn’t even called to thank him the next day because I’d been too busy trying to figure out how to get my car fixed to realize that something was even wrong.
It wasn’t until a week later, after I’d finally pulled my head out, that I realized that he’d had to go to the stinkin’ hospital for pneumonia.
“This is ridiculous,” Booth grumbled. “It’s not a big deal. I was an ass. I know it. He knows it. I just need to apologize for it. But he’s not here, and he’s not answering my phone calls. It was my fuckin’ kid, okay? I overreacted.”
Georgia rolled her eyes. “I don’t think that your brother thinks it’s ‘not a big deal.’”
No, she was right.
It was a big deal.
I was sick to my stomach with how I’d reacted. How I’d treated him.
“I know he’s done a lot for me,” I admitted softly. “And I’m an asshole.”
“You’re not an asshole,” Booth muttered.
Bell, of course, had to go and burst my bubble.
“Actually, you both kind of are,” she butted in. “And, just sayin’, but I hope he does end up joining the military like he talked to me about last night. It would serve you all right. He’s on the way, though. He texted me to say that he was running a bit late.”
There was a moment of silence before Nico turned to his first-born daughter and said, “What did you say?”
Before she could answer, though, we heard the telltale sound of Bourne’s truck pulling up outside.
Moments later, we heard the slam of his truck’s door, followed by the soft pound of his determined feet as they made their way up the length of the walkway and onto the porch.
The front door opened and slammed shut moments later, and then we heard his footfalls heading our way.
He came into the dining room and my face must’ve showed the desolation I was feeling because Dillan kept tossing me sympathetic looks. My son hadn’t stopped glaring at me since the night before when I’d yelled at Bourne.
He’d, of course, been just as naïve as Bourne as to why I was mad. But where Bourne had gotten it explained to him, thoroughly, we’d sent Asa out of the room.
He didn’t know that his grandfather was looking to spend time with him and would do so by any means possible.
My heart started to pound as everyone waited for Bourne to arrive.
When he did, my heart skipped a beat.
He’d shaved his head.
All of his beautiful black hair was gone.
Just… gone.
Not to say that his head wasn’t sexy as hell with no hair—and that seemed almost impossible for someone to do because a shaved head didn’t appear sexy to me—but it was a shock to see it all gone.
What would I hold on to when…
I viciously cut that thought process off, knowing that I seriously didn’t need to go down that path with my thoughts.
“So how did it go today?” Bell asked, bouncing on her toes a little.
Everyone at the table just stopped.
One second, we’d been eating, and the next, Bourne was giving Bell a very serious look.
What the hell was going on?
“What the hell is going on?” Nico barked, echoing my thoughts.
Bourne took his seat at the table next to me without saying a word I might add, and picked up his knife and fork and started to eat.
He didn’t say a word, just started to eat.
“Bourne,” Nico snapped.
Bourne looked up, and that was when I saw the black bags underneath his eyes.
He also looked a tad bit hungover.
“What?” Bourne grumbled.
“What?” Nico said. “First, your sister says something about you before you come in, and now I see all your fuckin’ hair gone and you looking hungover as fuck. What’s going on?”
Bourne shrugged, looking as if he couldn’t be more bored.
“I joined the Air Force Reserves,” Bourne explained to him. “I ship out for bootcamp on the first of August. I’ve already cleared it with my job. I’ve paid the lease for a year. Once I’m done, I only go in once a month. The basic military training that I have to do is eight weeks, and I’ll do that at the base near San Antonio.”
“Oh, that’s not too bad,” Bell interjected. “Do you have to shave your beard, too?”
Bourne nodded. “Not ready to part with it, yet.”
Asa’s eyes were wide with excitement. “Cool!”
Everyone else at the table, though?
Not so excited.
Bourne went back to eating as if he hadn’t just thrown a bomb on the Pena kitchen table for everyone to digest.
I carefully set my fork down, appetite forgotten, and said, “Excuse me.”
Then I got up from the table and calmly walked away, hoping that my desolation didn’t show all over my face.
Bourne didn’t follow me, either.
I shouldn’t have expected him to, but I did.