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.It had been so long since he’d asked to drive that I’d forgotten how much he liked to do it.What teenager didn’t? We’d been talking about getting Morgan a car of his own for his eighteenth birthday right before I’d entered retirement.Considering the debt we were in and the scaled back income, I doubted that was a possibility now.“You know what? Why not? Just, be careful.It’s an expensive car.”Morgan didn’t say anything, but he couldn’t hide the grin that split his face when I tossed him the keys.I climbed in the passenger side, not without a bit of trepidation.I needn’t have worried.Morgan proved to be a very careful, alert driver; yet another area Shelby had nailed.Was there anything that woman couldn’t do?With a start, I realized that we’d both be doing everything all over again.We’d have another first birthday, another child to teach to swim, to ride a bike.Suddenly, I felt bits and pieces of Morgan’s childhood flash before my eyes.It was over all too quickly and I felt new pangs of regret when I realized all I’d missed.No wonder he found it hard to be around me—I was almost a stranger.But this was my chance, I saw with newfound clarity.This was my chance to make it up to him, to both of them.He’d be leaving for college soon, but until then, we were going to start acting like a father and son, and doing some of the stuff I’d always said we would: hunting, fishing, shooting.More laser tag, if he wanted.Basketball.The list went on and on.I could make it up to Shelby, too.Being out of the Army meant that I could be here for this new child, and for her, in ways that I never was able to before.There wouldn’t be any doubt that I would be there for the birth.Though I’d managed to be at the hospital when Morgan was born, we’d spent the three weeks before the due date wondering if I would be.My unit had deployed before he was a week old, and when I’d come back, he was already walking.This time, I could be there to help with the late night feedings, the diapers and reading bedtime stories.I’d be there for birthdays and on Christmas mornings.For Easter egg hunts and school plays.The more I thought about it, the more excited I became.I felt some of the tension I’d been carrying around fall off, like throwing off a weight I’d thought was permanently attached.But with my mounting excitement came the mounting fear of how my son would take the news.Would he be jealous that this child would receive my attention in a way that he never had?“You got quiet,” Morgan observed.“Mind if I turn on the music?”“You know the rules.Passenger chooses the music.”“Whose rule is that?” When I didn’t answer, he reached over and switched on the radio.Still keeping his eyes on the road, he changed it to an alternative rock station and began drumming his fingers on the stereo to the beat.Maybe I was being ridiculous.It wasn’t like we’d planned this, after all.It wasn’t like we were trying to replace him.Maybe he’d be cool with it; maybe he wouldn’t even give it a second thought.I reached over and turned the music down, deciding it was now or never.“Okay, you can pick the music.”“No, it’s not that.Listen, Morgan, there’s another reason I wanted to have some time alone with you today.”“Oh, man,” he said with a laugh.“Like I didn’t know that? What’s is it? My grades are still pretty good, Dad.It was just one test, and I’ll be able to make it up.”“No, it’s not that.Wait, what?” I furrowed my brow.“What test? Did you miss a test?” He went silent all of a sudden, and I knew that I was going to have to pry it out of him.“Morgan?”“Geez, Dad, dial it back a notch.Can you, like, go all G.I.Joe without even trying?”“I’m not sure what that means,” I returned.“But that doesn’t tell me what I want to know.What’s this about a test?”“You remember the anti-war demonstration Chloe was talking about at dinner a few weeks back?”“Of course.”“Well, to do that, I sort of had to miss English.”I took a deep breath so that I wouldn’t scream at him—again, putting my first instinct on the back burner.When I did speak, I’d relaxed a fraction.“You know what? I am going to choose the music.”“Is that my punishment?” he asked hopefully.“Sorry, Pal.Not by a long shot.” The two of us fell silent and it stayed that way for the rest of the way home.Chapter 6ShelbyI was in the kitchen pulling a pan of baked spaghetti pie out of the oven when I heard the door open.I set down the baking dish and whipped the oven mitts off, rushing to the living room [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]