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“Yeah?”

“Definitely.”

“I didn’t hear you one bit, sweetie,” Grace added.

“Cool.” The kid none-too-gently kicked the screen door open and stepped outside. “I’m hungry. Can we have pizza?”

“Good idea,” Grace said. “I don’t feel like lifting a finger to cook tonight. Shawnee, bring me the phone.”

“No, wait.” Garrick stalled the boy with a hand to his arm, but looked to Grace. “Why don’t Shawn and I go pick something up?” He needed some time with the kid to not only assure Shawn they were okay, but to make sure they were still cool for himself.

“Please, Mom?” Shawn grabbed Garrick’s shoulder, nodding while he jumped up and down like a baby bird trying to achieve flight.

Grace exchanged a see-I-told-you-so look with Garrick. “I guess I don’t have to ask him what he thinks,” Grace said. She shifted her attention to her son. “Bring me my purse instead, baby.”

Garrick touched her hand. “I have it covered.”

“Thank you. That’s very sweet, but I’m actually talking about the fact that you need to drive my car. Shawn still has to sit in the backseat.” She turned Shawn in the direction of the front door and gave him a little swat on the tush. “Get going.”

Shawn tore into the house, and Garrick looked back to Grace, stricken. “I swear I would have remembered that the second I went to put him in the passenger seat of my truck. We were going to take Devlin’s car for our ice cream run earlier. I promise.”

“Relax. I believe you.”

Garrick reined in his burst of nervous panic just as Shawn busted out of the house with an enormous black purse dragging from his shoulder. “Here you go, Mommy.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Grace pecked a kiss to her son’s cheek, undid the keys from a metal loop holding the strap, and dropped them in Garrick’s hand. “Have fun, you two.”

I can do this. Grace is right. It’s no different than what I’ve been doing for a month already.

One look at Shawn, seeing the excitement vibrating through the boy over such a small excursion, and everything shifted into place inside Garrick, calming him.

I need him. Them. Chloe and Grace too, just as much as they need me.

His heart constricted as a picture of Devlin flashed in his mind.

Hopefully he will understand.

Shaking off that uncertainty, Garrick pointed over his shoulders to his back. “Climb on, kid. Let’s go.”

As soon as Shawn latched on securely for a piggyback ride, Garrick loped down the steps, laughing as Shawn egged him on to go faster.

* * * *

Garrick kept tight hold of Shawn’s hand as they jogged across the parking lot to the restaurant’s entrance. “Watch your step.” He pointed at the sidewalk lip a foot ahead.

Shawn made an exaggerated leap onto the raised brick walkway. “Can I get a dessert while we’re waiting?”

“Ah, how about you can pick a dessert to take back to the house for later?”

“Maaaaannn.” Shawn tugged against Garrick’s hold. “I want to eat it now.”

“Not gonna happen.” Garrick sympathized; he remembered wanting sweets as a first, second, and third course, but he would lose points with Grace--not to mention Chloe for shortchanging her a pre-meal treat--if he caved. “You can pick something for your sister and your mom, though.” Garrick murmured an “Excuse me” to a small group milling in front of the door, then pulled Shawn in front of him, keeping the boy close as they entered the restaurant. “But you have to pick ones you think they’ll like,” he added as soon as they were inside, “and I think I’ll know if you’re trying to pick three for yourself.”

“Chloe likes anything chocolate.”

“All right. What about your mom?”

“She likes stuff with fruit. She makes lemon bars a lot.”

Garrick took a moment to explain to the hostess that they just wanted to place a To-Go order, but that with the little one with him Garrick didn’t want to sit at the bar to wait. The place had the best pizza in town, but it also boasted the largest variety of beer on tap, and it drew a bar crowd on weekends just for that. It was a little early in the evening for anything too boisterous, but the noise level and potential conversations would still be too much for the ears of a six-year-old.

The hostess handed Garrick a couple of menus and guided them to a small round table with tall-leg chairs that just skirted the area between the bar and the restaurant. They had already decided on their pizza topping choices on the car ride over, so Garrick went ahead and placed that order with a request that the hostess return in a few minutes after they had a chance to look over the dessert menu.

Shawn swiveled one way in his barstool, wide-eyed, and then slowly circled in the other direction, his focus traveling the area of the restaurant.

“Never been here before, huh?” Garrick asked, biting down a chuckle.

“Uh-uh.” The boy’s shaggy blond hair swished into his eyes as he shook his head. “It’s big. Look at all the stuff everywhere. Is that a real boat?” He pointed to the center of the wall on the other side of the room, in which it looked like the front end of an old ship with a mermaid figure attached to the hull protruded from the wall.

Garrick covered Shawn’s hand and brought it back down to the table. “I don’t know,” he replied. “We’ll have to ask the hostess when she comes to take our dessert order. Let’s decide what we want so we’ll be ready when she returns.”

He discovered Shawn didn’t yet have the reading skills to decipher a menu that didn’t have pictures, so he pulled the boy’s chair closer, put their heads together, and between them came up with desserts for everybody. The hostess swung back by their table to give them an ETA on their pizza, and Garrick relayed the rest of their order, as well as went ahead and gave her a tip as a thank you for letting

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