Chapter 22
Blake
To say that I was surprised when Silver gave in without a struggle would be stating it lightly. I figured she would fight me tooth and long, beautiful nail. I wished I understood that woman half as much as I loved her.
I had no idea what caused her to turn on me, but I suspected that it was honestly motivated by good. Perhaps she didn’t have the capacity to show how she felt; she’d been hiding as a matter of survival for so long.
That was when it struck me. Her entire outlook on life was about survival. She never had anyone she could depend on but herself and probably thought that was the only way it was done.
Her words in her restaurant came back to me. I had been sentimental in my relief to be with her again. She couldn’t hear sentimentality; it wasn’t in her vocabulary. It was onward and upward her entire life. She probably figured I’d gone soft and she was the reason. If I was soft, I couldn’t handle bull riding, and if that went away, there was nothing left for me. Did she have so little faith in me? Was I nothing more than a cowboy?
I realized I’d hit on exactly what was going on. It wasn’t at all about me; it was about her. She had sketched the entire world with the same pencil she’d used to survive on her own. It’s all she knew. It gave me hope to think this might possibly be true.
Silver walked in the door, Kirk in hand, and I thought that climbing aboard bulls took bravery. That was nothing compared to this, though. I had asked them to meet me at my Baton Rouge restaurant—it was just about the most neutral place I could think of and it would give her an opportunity to see what I’d done. I had an apartment nearby and would spend my time with Kirk there rather than dragging him back and forth to Dallas.
She paused, looking around and then saw me sitting at the bar. Her head went up slightly, as though she was summoning courage and she walked toward me.
Kirk saw me first. “Daddy!” he called out and ran toward me. I scooped him into my arms and hugged him. It was amazing how much joy there could be in such a small package.
Pushing him onto my hip, I looked at her. “Hello, Silver.”
“Blake,” she acknowledged in a breathy voice. I realized she was about to cry.
“Hey, don’t. C’mon back here in my office and let’s sit down.” I turned and glanced over my shoulder to see her following dutifully behind. I pushed open the office door, set Kirk down, and took her elbow to gently bring her inside.
“How are you?” she asked, clearing her throat that was tight with emotion. I had an idea of what she was going through and wanted to put her at ease.
“Silver, I’m fine. Everything is healed and fine. Forget about that. How are you, is the question.”
“Okay,” she began tentatively.
“Hey, I know what you’re thinking. You’re worried that you’re losing him. You’re not.” I got up and went over to my desk, taking out some paper and drawing supplies.
“Here, Kirk. Sit down and draw me a picture of what you’d like Santa to bring you next Christmas,” I told him. He happily climbed up into my high-back, swivel chair and sorted through the compasses and rulers I had before considering what he would draw.
Crossing the room, I sat down next to Silver and spoke in a low voice so the boy couldn’t overhear. “Look, I screwed up. I shouldn’t have come after you with a damned lawyer. I should have just come to you, face to face, and worked something out. It probably hit you hard and you weren’t sure what to expect. After all, our last meeting wasn’t very romantic, shall we say.”
She seemed to relax a bit at my words and I felt better.
“How about I get you a little wine?” She nodded acceptance and I went out to the bar and poured us each a small goblet. I brought a soft drink for Kirk, and a bag of chips.
She was smiling at Kirk when I went back in; he’d evidently made some comment she thought was funny. “Here, son,” I said, setting the drink on the desk and opening the bag of chips for him. He seemed more than satisfied and it struck me that for the first time, he had his family all in the same room and he was happily occupied. Such a small, simple thing and yet something we’d not been able to provide him until now. Even now, she would be leaving.
“Look, Silver. Why don’t you hang around and have dinner with us? I make a pretty mean steak and it might make you feel better to see what things are like for Kirk. I’ve got an apartment nearby where I stay when I’m in town. Kirk will have his own room and when he’s with me, we’ll be here in town. You can come and see him any time.”
“Thank you, Blake. I can’t think of anything I’d like more, to tell you the truth.”
I relaxed now and settled back against the cushions. I felt I’d finally gotten to the bottom of what went on in her head and now maybe we could get somewhere.
“How’s Jill?” she asked me. There was some tension in her voice and I knew just exactly what prompted it.
“Fine, I suppose. I don’t see her really ever. I’m always on the move from one store to another and I left the ranch in her charge. I put money in the account and she looks after things. You might call her a farm manager, actually.”
She nodded and seemed appeased by my casual reference to what she probably expected was a hot and heavy situation between her sister and me.
“How many stores do you have now?” she asked, and by all appearances was truthfully interested.
“Hmmm … don’t mean to sound arrogant, but I’m not exactly sure if it’s 132 or 134. I’ve got people who supervise these openings and I lose track of what opens when.”
“You seem to have quite a success on your hands, Blake. I’m very proud of you.”
“That means a lot to hear you say that. You know … I didn’t open in Baton Rouge to be your competition.” I left the reason implied and knew she understood.
“You aren’t. We have contrasting demographics.”
I felt a little let down by her response, perhaps foolishly so. I wanted her to realize that my opening in Baton Rouge had been an effort to be close to her, and the boy. She was looking at it from a strictly business point of view. She was tough as nails and always on the defensive. I wished I could bring her out of that frame of mind.
“I’m hungry,” came the boy’s voice from across the room. I stood up and extended a hand to Silver. The three of us took a table at the rear where there weren’t any customers seated this early in the day and a server took our order. “Daddy, tell me about riding on the bulls,” Kirk asked and I obliged.
In the most PG-rated sense possible, I explained what a rodeo was and the various events. I talked about the animals and the idea of a successful ride. “Will you take me sometime?” he asked.
I glanced at Silver and she was smiling. I took that as tacit approval and said, “Of course, son. We’ll do that real soon.”
The chef outdid himself, knowing who the customers were, and Kirk’s steak burger had a smiley face made with thinly sliced veggies and a milkshake with a volcano topping. He was intrigued and played with it for a while before drinking it. Silver seemed to relax more and more, even laughing aloud at times.
After dinner, I had planned to take Kirk to an animated film and invited her along.
“No, I think you two need some time without me tagging along. Thank you, Blake. You’ve made this much easier for me.”
I hugged her quickly and Kirk gave her a chocolate kiss on the cheek as she waved and left. I turned to him and realized this was a first. I’d never spent time with a boy this age and certainly not my own son.
I reached for his hand and we went out through the kitchens. I patted the chef on the shoulder as we passed and I could tell he was pleased to be acknowledged.
Kirk and I watched a film that was about fish with recognizable human characteristics and faces. He was fixated on the mammoth screen, his face reflecting the appropriate emotions from scene to scene. I was more interested in watching his face. He looked so much like me and yet, his profile gave me Silver. I sort of choked up as I thought about it. Here he was, a part of her and a part of me and yet she and I couldn’t seem to get together to be with what we’d created. There had to be a better way.
We went for ice cream afterwards and then back to the apartment. I’d had decorators in and they built a sort of safari treehouse for Kirk. His bunk was raised, with safety bars, but he could climb all over it. There was a knotted rope he could shinny down and beneath the bunk was a small wonderland of kids’ toys. He instantly fell in love. I remembered to get him some clothes, gave him a bath, and he fell asleep on the area rug in the center of his room, a toy clutched in each hand. I lifted him into bed and kissed him on the cheek.
My life was complete … almost.