Because of his age, I was allowed to stay with him, which was just as well because I’d never have been able to leave him on his own after what he’d been through.
And the following day, when Alex turned up to take us home, I realized something.
My family had kept in constant contact, making sure both of us were fine. Alex had as well and had even brought us some toiletries to use. Dave and Tabby had also texted throughout the night.
Then there were my girls, who’d kept me company and had distributed my clients amongst themselves to ease my burden.
Hell, even the Townsends and most of P.V.P.D. had reached out to send their love and best wishes to Cody and asked me if we needed anything.
But his dad never did. Not once did he text or call to see what the result of the operation had been or how Cody was.
That wasn’t the worst of it, though.
My baby never once asked about his dad or looked like he even knew what was missing. He was bowled over by the attention and care he was getting from people, and his dad never once registered for him because that’s what Neil had brought on himself.
My son might have lost the man who’d helped create him, but sure as shit, that man had lost a hell of a lot more than that.
Chapter Nine
Alex
“Okay,” Roque said as he dropped some grocery bags on the table. “I went to the store and bought some ‘sick shit.’”
At our expressions, he winced and explained, “I don’t mean sick as in sordid or gross, you guys. I mean stuff for sick people. But, jeez, give a man a chance.”
Sure enough, he pulled out a selection of things. Candy bars, apples, a video game that’d just been released, a new controller for Cody’s Xbox, a long cable so the controller constantly had power and he didn’t have to move off the couch, a pair of soft pajamas, some chips, a spicy chip challenge thing, and grapes.
Not just any grapes, but black grapes.
DB and Tabby had arrived shortly after we’d gotten home from the hospital with takeout from Tambien Tacos, and at that moment, we had full bellies. Mine weighed just that bit more because my granddaughter was sleeping on it at that moment, her only-just-a-toddler body stretched out fully on me with her head under my chin.
Sheena had fallen in love with Evie and Cody and had wanted to sleep on the boy, but after some wrangling, I’d managed to save him from the pain it would have caused him if she had.
Their dogs had settled at my feet, both of them resting as much of their heads as possible on each one. I’d left Bernice at home until everyone was settled in case she became agitated and tried to mother Cody—something she totally would do.
So, when Roque put the black grapes on the table, and I burst out laughing, Sheena stirred and looked up at me like I’d committed the ultimate sin.
One by one, everyone came to the same conclusion I had and began laughing as well.
Stymied by the humor, Roque glared at us. “What’s so funny?”
Holding a finger up to get us to stay quiet, Maeve hit the screen of her phone and held it up to face the grapes. I recognized Walton and Lesley’s voices immediately and smirked at what she was doing.
“How’s my grandbaby?” Lesley asked, then gasped. “Oh, there’s a sweet little girl on the stomach of a hot cop. Walton, why’d you bring me on a bullshit cruise when I could have been surrounded by handsomeness of that level for free?”
“Free? That shit ain’t free, woman. They get paid for being cops.”
Cutting off the argument, Maeve walked over and showed them the grapes. “Mom, Dad, could you explain to your son—the only ugly cop in the room—why him buying poor Cody these black grapes might be funny but also totally wrong at the same time, please?”
There was a moment’s silence, but then Lesley started laughing as Walton grumbled something I couldn’t make out.
“The boy likes grapes, and sick people get them all the time. They didn’t have any green or red ones in the store, so I picked what I could get—black ones. They’re awesome, they taste fantastic, and they’re grapes. So what’s the big deal?”
“Son,” Walton sighed, “you can’t get a kid who’s just had surgery on his tes-tic-u-lah-rees black grapes. Didn’t you get a brain?”
“Why the hell not?”
“Lesley, you explain it to him.”
“Oh, hell no. I squeezed his oversized head out, and you said if I gave you a son, you’d deal with puberty, the birds and the bees, and any dumb shit he did as gratitude. Well, this comes under the last category, so this is on you.”
DB glanced at me with amusement. This sounded totally like our situation, even before my wife had died.