Chapter 15

Shawn

“So what's Tanner like?” I'm driving us back to Evelyn's house, or should I say our house. Although that might be jumping the gun, referring to it as our house, I don't even know what to call it at this point since things still aren't coming back to me.

“Well, you know he's six years old now,” Evelyn begins, “and he’s in kindergarten.” She peeks at me out of the corner of her eye.

“Yes, I figured that part out last night. What's he like? You know, his personality. I mean, I saw a little bit of it last night, but I want to know more. Is he funny? Caring? A genius?”

“He reminds me of you a lot. Not only does he look like you, but he also has your sense of humor,” she chuckles a little. “He loves to tell these little jokes. Whether they’re funny or not, he’ll laugh. Of course, I laugh along with him.”

“He definitely has my looks—the sandy blonde hair and those green eyes. I think his eyes are even greener than mine are.” I keep my own on the road.

“There are some days when they’re greener than other days,” Evelyn looks out the passenger window. “Don't forget I have green eyes, too; but you’re right, he does have your eyes.”

“Your eye color is more subdued than ours, but I didn't forget,” I glance over at her. “Tell me more.”

“There's not much to say. I mean, you've missed a lot in the six years since he was born,” she looks at me.

“You don't need to remind me. I feel bad enough that I've missed those years.” She has no idea how bad I feel for not figuring out who I was sooner. She sure as hell doesn't need to rub in it.

“I didn't mean it like that. It's just hard to know what to tell you. There's a lot that has happened.”

An awkward silence follows.

I'm trying to think of what to say next. I mean this isn't easy, coming back to your life before you left for Afghanistan and finding out you have a son.

“Does he play any sport?” I ask, grasping for something. Anything.

“He has played baseball for the Little League here in town. He played his first year last summer.”

“Wow, they start them young now.”

“Yeah, they have to be five by June 1.”

“Something tells me baseball is my favorite sport.”

“You’re right about that.”

“I'm glad to hear that Tanner’s playing. Will he play again?” I ask hoping he will.

“I think so. He enjoyed it. It’s so much fun watching them run around the field. They have no idea what they’re doing most of the time—other than someone is hitting the ball and the team in the outfield has to get it to a base to tag them out.”

I chuckle a bit. “I bet it’s fun to watch. I don’t remember my own baseball days at all.”

“It’s been a long time ago for you.”

“It has been. My amnesia isn’t helping either.” Fucking amnesia. I fucking hate that I can’t remember half of the shit that has happened to me.

“It’s okay. You’ll get your memory back soon.” Evelyn peers over at me.

I want to grab her hand and hold it like I used to before I left for Afghanistan. That is one thing I do remember of this woman sitting next to me in the car: how she looked at me when I held her hand, so soft and gentle in my huge calloused hands.

“I’m just sad that I missed him playing baseball.”

“Oh, don’t feel sad. He’s just getting started. He still has a lot to learn, and I’m sure you could teach him some things you’ve learned when you played years ago. You were a great player back in high school. Remember that?”

“No, I don’t. What position did I play?” I have no fucking recollection of playing baseball in high school.

“First base, most of the time. Sometimes, the outfield.” She gives me that look I know I’ve seen before. The one that was stuck in my head.

“I don’t remember that.”

“Don’t feel bad.”

“How can I not? I fucking hate what happened to me. I can’t remember shit.”

“Shawn, really, it’s okay. I’ve signed up Tanner, so he’ll play again.” Evelyn is trying to make me feel better, and I appreciate that, but I still hate how it makes me feel.

I fake a half-smile at her.

“Now that you’re back home, maybe you could even coach his team. The league is always looking for coaches. People volunteer to become a coach, and sadly, not many people are willing to do that.” She’s given me something to think about.

“Yeah, I’d like to do that,” I’m still having a hard time believing I’m a dad, and now here I am thinking about coaching my son’s baseball team.

“I’m sure Tanner would love that. I could tell last night how much he was enjoying the time with you. Thanks for reading him his stories.”

“I did enjoy it.” We’re almost back to the house. “I just wish I had known about Tanner sooner. I would have fought harder to get better and get back to you.”

“Really. Stop beating yourself up. That’s not going to help you heal and get your memory back,” she reaches over and puts her warm feminine hand on my right knee. “Things are going to get better for you, I promise.”

I look over and smile half-heartedly at her. “I hope you’re right about that.”

She squeezes my knee and returns with her genuine smile.

I pull the car into the driveway right behind where James has parked his truck. He’s climbing out of the driver’s side and walking toward the back of the truck and toward us in Evelyn’s car. When he reaches the back bumper of the truck, he stares at Evelyn and me getting out.

I walk toward him. His face turns as white as a ghost. He has no words for me. We stare at each other for a moment.

I see Evelyn out of the corner of my eye. She stays back a few steps and watches us.

“Well, aren’t you going to give me a hug?” I ask.

“Shit, is that you, Shawn?” The expression on his face says it all.

“Hell, yeah, man.” I don’t have much of a memory of James other than what Evelyn has told me.

He was my best friend. I use the past tense because best friends were supposed to help and support each other. Obviously, James hasn’t done that. He let my wife think I was dead, and never tried to find me and bring me home to her.

Instead, he made a move on her and tried to be a dad to my son. He took my family away from me. I should be pissed. I should be ready to tell him to get the hell away from my family. But I won’t.

I’m just glad to be here.

“Well, fuck, if you’re not going to hug me, I’ll hug you.” I take the couple of steps to where James stands and give him a big bear hug.

He hesitates to return the gesture. His arms are down at his sides for a few seconds, but he does raise them after a second or so and reciprocates the hug half-assed. It’s not as powerful as the one I give him, but I’m okay with that.

James lets go as quickly as he can. “How in the hell are you doing?” he asks and glances over at Evelyn.

She moves closer to us so that we stand in a small circle between the truck and car.

“I’m doing well.” I’m not about to let him know how much I’m fucking hurting on the inside. “How the fuck are you?” I ask.

“I’m doing great,” he continues glaring at me.

He’s pissed at me, pissed because I’m here. I can tell he doesn’t like it, but I don’t give a shit. This is my family, my wife, my son.

This is my fucking life that he has stolen from me.

“That’s good to hear,” James looks from me to Evelyn. His face turns a pale red.

Evelyn doesn’t know what to say. What can she say?

“So how was the cake tasting?” James asks Evelyn, eventually breaking the silence.

“It was wonderful. We had several cakes to try.”

“We? Who’s we?” James’s face gets redder.

“I went with her,” I’m not letting her take shit from him. “I offered to go with her when you couldn’t go.”

“I was busy, and it was hard for me to get away. She knows that.”

“No need to get angry with him.” Evelyn defends me. “I let him go.”

James looks at her, then at me, and back at her. “Whatever the fuck you say.” He stomps off to the house, leaving us standing there in the driveway.

“I’d better get my stuff and go.” I start to walk toward the house.

“You’re not leaving,” Evelyn says behind me.

I stop in my tracks and turn around to face her.

“I want you to stay here.”