Page 13 of Gideon’s Gratitude (Love in Mission City #5)

“When you have kids, you’re forever trying to keep their clothes clean. It’s a losing battle, of course, but you do what you can. Pasta sauce and chili are a pain to get out.” I laid the napkin on the table and snagged a fry. “You don’t need me cleaning up after you.” I ate the fry.

“Well, I appreciate you assisting me. I plan to go shopping tomorrow at one of the big-box retailers to buy some clothes.”

I flicked a finger. “You won’t find stuff like that in this town. You’ll have to go over to Abbotsford.” I wrinkled my nose. “Why don’t you just drive back to Vancouver? An hour there, an hour to pack, an hour back…do it around lunch, and you likely won’t even hit traffic.”

“Yes, well.” Archer cleared his throat. “I’m not ready to go back. You understand.”

Did I? Was the man avoiding a person or a situation? Or both?

“You think because I live up in the mountain that I’m hiding? ”

He tilted his head. “Are you not?”

“Well, yeah, okay, maybe. But not from a person or anything like that. I just, you know, don’t have anyone.”

God save me, did I just say that out loud?

“No family? Friends? Acquaintances?”

I fidgeted with the dirty napkin. “Parents disowned me when I turned eighteen and moved in with Leo. Not as roommates. They used religion to try to browbeat me into submission. Into leaving my soulmate. Needless to say, we haven’t spoken a word since. They haven’t even tried to see the kids.”

“Do they know they have grandchildren?”

“I ran into a lady from their church. Nice woman. Not in my face or anything. I had the kids with me, and we chatted. I guess she didn’t know the full story.

I mentioned Leo, and she clammed right up.

Said she had to be somewhere and hotfooted it out of there.

I’d say it’s safe to assume she told my parents. That was three years ago.”

“That’s unfortunate.”

“Leo’s parents took much the same attitude. An older couple, they didn’t understand. Kept thinking it was a phase he’d work through. Eventually they realized it wasn’t going to happen. They died within months of each other a couple of years before we adopted the kids.”

“Adopted?”

Had I not already said this?

“You didn’t go for a surrogate?”

“Too expensive.” I scrunched the napkin.

“We wanted kids so badly. We put our names in for adoption, hoping to get lucky. Social services contacted us. A woman had recently given birth to her second child. A single mother. Things were off the rails for her, and she couldn’t cope anymore.

She wanted out. But she wanted to know her kids would be cared for. Would be loved .

“Leo and I met with her, and we could offer those promises. She signed the papers, and we took custody of the children. The adoption was finalized a few months later.” I balled up the napkin.

“Those kids—Melodie and Trevor—are the best thing that ever happened to me. I mean, I love Leo, but those kids…” I pressed a hand to my sternum. “I’d do anything for them.”

“So you walked away.” A statement, not a question.

“So I walked away.” A choked response.

“Tell me about your kids.”

The compassion nearly undid me.

“Melodie’s a mature six. She was two when we adopted her, and she has no memories of her mother.

Or none she’s been able to articulate. We took her to a counselor a few times, but, frankly, she adapted well to living with us.

She can be solemn and serious, and at other times quite energetic.

She adores her younger brother. With every action, she shows that love.

At times, she can be bossy. To me, to her brother, to her father…

” I cleared my throat. “I was Daddy and Leo was Papa .” Can I go on? “I can’t…”

“Trevor. He was an infant when you brought him home?”

“Yeah. So tiny. Just under six pounds. I could hold him in one hand. He fussed a lot, those first few weeks. Leo was working long shifts at the hospital. I took paternity leave from my job and stayed home with the kids. I’ve never been so stressed.

Or so happy. Eventually Trevor settled, and we fell into a routine that worked. ”

“Did you continue to stay home?”

I shook my head. “Paternity leave ended, and we needed the second income. Or at least we believed we did. We found a great day-care center that could take both children, and I went back to work.”

“Leo is a…?”

“Doctor.”

“And you?”

“Longshoreman. I worked the docks in Vancouver.”

“That’s a brutal job.”

The words yanked me from the lull I’d settled into with Archer’s gentle questioning.

How had I given away so much of myself in such a brief span of time?

I never did that. Always held up a protective barrier between myself and other people.

Except Leo. There’d never been a barrier there. Until two years ago.

“Yeah, physically demanding. But really good pay. I helped put Leo through medical school. Supported the two of us. His loans would be much higher, if not for me.”

“And yet he doesn’t appreciate you.”

“What?” I rubbed my forehead.

“He took the children away from you.”

“Yeah, I see what you’re saying.” I closed my eyes. “I did something wrong, and he can’t forgive me.”

“So you’ve said. But it sounds like he owes you.”

Anger flared, and I beat my chest. “There is no owing . We were equal partners. I loved him. I did all that for him. All he ever wanted was to be a doctor. I wanted him to get that dream. I barely finished high school. I was a big, powerful kid. A friend’s father offered to get me a union job at the docks.

I’d have been a fool to turn down that offer.

I started working the next week and worked solidly through to when we brought the kids home. ”

“Then what was this unforgivable mistake?”

“Why are you hiding in Mission City?”

Archer’s facade crumpled for just a moment as his eyes flashed pain.

Pain I recognized.

He recovered first. “I could ask you the same question. Where are Leo and the kids? ”

“In a townhouse in Surrey. All we could afford. Leo’s hired a nanny to watch the kids because his work schedule is so crazy.

He finally has enough money. I would’ve stayed home with them, given the chance.

” Tears pricked the backs of my eyes. “And before you go thinking Leo’s a bad guy, he’s not.

He has his reasons. I don’t even blame him. Much. Anymore.”

“Would you have done the same, had your situations been reversed?”

“They never would be. Leo’s not a weak man. He’s stronger than I’ll ever be.”

“Yet you worked at the docks.”

I waved him off. “I’m not talking physically. Although I’ll never be who I was there either. No, I mean he’s got a will of iron. He’d never give in. Never falter. He’s not capable of it.”

“Every person is capable of faltering, Gideon, even your precious Leo. We all have an Achilles’ heel. We all have something—or someone—who can bring us down.”

“What’s yours?” I narrowed my eyes. “Or should I be asking who?”

“There is no one.” He rubbed his knuckle against his nose. “And we were talking about you.”

Misdirection. Look here so you don’t see the truth.

Should I follow his lead, or push for the truth? None of my business, but curiosity burned in my chest.

“Something wrong with the food?”

Sarabeth’s furrowed brow shot guilt through me. I’d eaten a handful of fries and two bites of the burger. The delicious burger.

Archer’d barely put a dent in his food either.

“The food’s amazing. Just an intense conversation, you know?” Please believe me .

She gave me a knowing smile. “Yeah, you two look pretty intense. You want me to make you up new ones?”

“No.” This time Archer answered. “Perhaps you could heat them up?”

Dubious was the best description for her expression. “It’d be easier just to make up new.”

If I had a car, I’d leave. Just drop a few bills and walk out the door. This was all kinds of humiliating. “Please, Sarabeth. We’re both hungry. It’d just be nice if the food were warm.” I wasn’t above begging. Or eating it cold, if it came to that.

She snagged the two plates. “I’ll nuke them, but it’ll have to be behind chef’s back. He’d have a hissy fit if he knew I was desecrating his food that way.”

“Maybe let him know it was delicious?” I rubbed my forehead. “I’m so sorry.”

“You need a painkiller or something? You don’t look so good.” Her blue eyes clouded with worry.

Oh, God, anything but that. “I’m just hungry. Not enough food today. I’ll perk right up after I’ve eaten all that good stuff.”

“Well, I’ll be right back.” She turned and headed to the kitchen.

“Gideon—”

“Please, let’s just eat, okay? I don’t want to rehash all my problems. There are no alternatives. No other plausible scenarios. This is my life. The sooner I accept it, the better off I’ll be.”

“There are always alternatives. The only end of it is death. And even then, if you were clever in life, you can manipulate things.”

“Is that how you see the world? As something that needs to be manipulated? And people merely pawns? ”

“Two warmed-up meals.” Sarabeth placed the plates on the table. “Mind the plates, they’re really hot. You gentlemen need another milkshake?”

At least we’d drunk most of those.

“I would love a coffee.” Archer met the server’s gaze. Then he stared at me.

I’ll never sleep tonight.

Would you anyway?

I’d take a natural supplement and hope to put this whole mess of the last twenty-four hours behind me.

“I’ll take a coffee as well.” The smile was less forced than I’d have thought. Sarabeth’s charm worked. Hope Archer leaves a big tip . If not, I’d slip whatever coins I had in my pocket on the table. Hopefully without the man noticing.

“Right up. Cream, milk? Sugar’s on the table.”

“Milk, please.”

“I drink it black.” Archer’s smile was megawatt.

She nodded, spun, and bounced back to the counter. How could one woman be so cheery?

“Look—”

“Let’s eat.” I felt no guilt in cutting the man off. We both needed food in our bellies. Personally, discomfort overwhelmed me when I went too long without food, and any feeling beyond the normal pain was intolerable.

Archer nodded, and when Sarabeth dropped off the coffees and a little container of milk, we both managed a smile.

I dug into my food. Hopefully we’ve reached an end to this fraught fucking interrogation.