The SEAL's Valentine

Tristan reread his latest page.

“Ignore me all you want, but not only do I think you should go, but you should wear something nice. I heard through the garden club grapevine that there will be no less than six eligible women in attendance.”

He whistled. “You want me to start something with all of them or just a few?”

“Don’t be fresh.” She took her two-pound hand weights from the coffee table. “Wouldn’t kill you to get out of here—did my heart good, seeing you help Brynn and her boy.”

Weary of his mom’s meddling, he marked his page and tossed his book to the sofa. “I’m mowing the lawn.”

“Hasn’t it only been a few days since you last did it?”

“Yeah, but it’s the only place I can go without you yapping at me.” He kissed her cheek. “I appreciate you caring—really, I do. But I’m good. Getting better every day.”

“Then prove it by for once, shaving, then putting on a pair of khakis and a nice shirt. Since I already bought a gift for Cayden, you can just add your name to my box. Not that I was invited, but I thought you might be.”

Laughing, he said, “You’ve covered all your bases...”

“Which reminds me—rumor has it you also volunteered to help little Cayden with his hitting. Want to tell me about that?”

Tristan winced. “Nope.”

His cell rang. Andrea. Was Jack okay?

“Who is it?” his mom asked.

Already on the way to the screened back porch, he told her before answering, hating the pain in his stomach that always accompanied just hearing his ex’s voice.

“Hey,” he answered, arms crossed, leaning against a wood column. “Everything all right with Jack?”

“Great.” Though the reception was crap, her tone struck him as breezy. As if she hadn’t a care in the world. Why did she get to be happy, yet he’d basically lost everything? “Only we’re on a day cruise, and I guess being on the water reminded Jack of his dad. He wants to talk to you.”

“Cool.” Tristan’s heart soared. His biggest fear wasn’t dying in a third-world country, but having his own son forget him. The fact that Jack remembered the times he and Tristan had spent on the water meant a lot.

“Dad?”

Tristan’s eyes welled and he wasn’t sure he could speak past the knot in his throat. “Hey, buddy! Hear you’re spending a day in my favorite place.”

“We’re on the Pacific and this boat is pretty big, but not even kinda the size of the ships you took me on. It doesn’t have awesome guns, either.”

Tristan laughed through silent tears. “Did you at least bring your own weapon in case pirates attack?”

“I have my best squirt pistol, but Mom said I couldn’t wear my battle helmet because I might not see good enough and fall off the boat.”

“That makes sense.” Wiping his cheeks with his wrist, Tristan laughed and nodded, picturing his son on the bow, fending off imaginary invaders.

“Well, I gotta go. Peter bought me food to feed the seagulls.”

“Be careful,” Tristan said, resenting the hell out of Andrea’s new husband for assuming his role. Although with Tristan having been gone three-quarters of the last year they’d been married, how much of an active part in Jack’s life had he really played? “They’ve got sharp beaks.”

Jack laughed. “I will, Dad! Love you!”

“Love you, too, bud.” Though his son had broken the connection, Tristan held his cell like a life raft, with the backs of his hands he took another swipe at his eyes.

“You okay?” His mom stepped up behind him, placing her comforting hand between his shoulder blades.

Though he was anything but okay, for her sake, he nodded. “I’m good. Sounds like he’s gonna have a great day.”

“How about you?”

“What do you mean?” Still unable to face anyone, he stared out at the lush backyard, focusing on the sweet-smelling honeysuckle winding up his mom’s pagoda. The quick-growing plant already needed a trim.

“I mean, are you going to Cayden’s party? Or you gonna sit around here and mope?”

“Mom,” he managed, aching to his core. “I know you have the best intentions, but please stay out of this.”

“But—”

Busting open the screen door with the heel of his hand, he strode across the backyard, intent on taking a run. Didn’t matter that he only wore leather flip-flops. What mattered was running as fast and far as possible from his problems—which now happened to include his well-meaning, yet nonetheless interfering, mom.

* * *

SINCE CAYDEN’S DAD HAD BEEN gone, and he didn’t make the baseball team, Cayden hadn’t been sure he’d ever be happy again. But then Mr. Tristan built his pirate ship fort and now all his friends were over and brought presents and his mom made a cake and his face hurt from smiling. And there were a really whole lot of presents!

“Having fun?” his mom asked when he was looking at the gift table.

“Uh-huh! When can I open stuff?”

She laughed, which made him even happier. “Pretty soon. First, we all need to sing to you and let you blow out the candles on your cake.”

“Okay. Is Mr. Tristan here? I want him to play pirate!”

“I haven’t seen him.” She looked around. “But maybe he’ll be here soon?”

“Hope so! He’s cool!”

Cayden went back to his fort, where his friend Dominic hung upside down while eating grape Laffy Taffy. “Well? Is Coach Tristan coming?”

“Maybe.” Cayden not only told all his friends the cool SEAL would be there, but Dominic said his mom told him that Tristan was gonna help Cayden with his hitting. Cayden hoped since it was his birthday, Tristan was just waiting to tell him about it at the party.

The longer the party was, the more Cayden worried Tristan wasn’t gonna come. Everyone he knew on the whole planet was there—except for his dad and old friends back in St. Louis. Even Coach Jason and his wife and their bad little kid were in the backyard.

For a few minutes, while blowing out his candles and opening presents, Cayden forgot about his new grown-up friend, but it was weird, no matter how many great toys he got, he still felt kinda sad about not seeing Tristan.

* * *

“YOU WERE KIND TO INVITE an old geezer like me to your son’s big day.” Georgia helped herself to seconds of Cayden’s chocolate, pirate-themed cake.

“Stop,” Brynn said from the lawn chair she was embarrassingly trapped in. “You get around far better than I do. Pretty sure I’m stuck.”