At the local diner, Davey chatted with Ben while they waited for their food to arrive. He’d picked Ben up from school, helped him finish his homework, then they’d headed out to eat. Studying Ben, a sense of pride arose in Davey’s chest. He could do this father thing, after all. The key was keeping it one on one. It was easier to get to know his son without his crazy-ass friends and the posse of women they had with them along for the ride.

A little voice in Davey’s head reminded him that he was a part of that group too, but he pushed the thought aside. He could be a part of both circles, just not at the same time.

“What video games do you play?” he asked Ben.

“Angry Birds, Minecraft.” Ben’s face lit up. “Oh, and Forza Horizon racing.”

“Good choices.” It was a topic Davey could get into. “We’ll have to play sometime back at the house.”

“You play too?” Ben asked, his voice pitched with excitement.

“Sure. It kills time on the road.” Davey grinned. “Cruz says it keeps me out of trouble.”

Their waitress arrived with food. She placed their plates on the table, then slipped him a piece of paper with her name and phone number on it. “Call if there’s anything I can do,” she said in a low, risqué voice. “Anything at all.” She winked, then sailed away, her hips swinging suggestively.

“What’s that?” Ben asked, pointing at the piece of paper in his hand.

He shoved the paper into his pocket. “It’s part of the bill.”

“It looked like a phone number,” Ben said.

Damn, his kid was observant. “Yes, well….”

But Ben’s attention had shifted to his food. “It’s a burger!” He said the word ‘burger’ as if it was heinous, like Davey was trying to feed him bugs or something.

Davey had taken the liberty of ordering for both of them. He’d selected burgers in an attempt to expand Ben’s horizons. Ben hadn’t protested when he’d ordered, although he may have tuned out while the pretty waitress recapped Davey’s NASCAR highlights.

Nora had obviously passed her eccentric food choices to her nephew, to his son. How would Ben make it in the world without eating meat? Many of the places Davey frequented served nothing else. He didn’t want his son to go hungry, nor did he want other kids picking on Ben.

“It’s good,” he said, taking a bite of his cheeseburger. “I eat them all the time.” Swallowing, he flexed his right arm muscles. “To get those big muscles you want, you’re gonna need protein.”

“Aunt Nora says I get enough protein.”

He tapped Ben’s plate. “Just give it a try.”

“But it’s a cow,” Ben said, his lower lip quivering.

“One bite,” Davey urged. Once Ben tried it, Davey was confident he would love it.

Ben slid his gaze between Davey and the burger once and then again. His forehead crinkled with misgivings so great that guilt kicked at Davey. If Ben didn’t want to eat a damn burger, who was he to force it on him? He opened his mouth to tell Ben to forget it, but it was too late.

Ben chomped into his burger, gnawing off a monster-sized bite. Once the meat was inside his mouth, it just sat there as if he’d forgotten how to chew. Ben’s eyes swelled, his cheeks turned cherry-red, and the rest of his face turned a pale shade of green. He chewed twice and swallowed hard.

Then, he threw up all over the table.

Jesus. Davey picked up his napkin and wiped a chunk of puke off his shirt while trying to figure out what to do next. He had no experience dealing with a sick kid or with messes of any kind. He had people who took care of this stuff. But not today. This was his son, his problem.

He rose. “Come on, let’s go to the restroom to clean up.”

Ben’s lips were shaking again.

Davey pressed a hand to the back of his neck. Anything but tears.

Ben slid out of his seat and burst into a noisy, full-fledged cry.

The universe was clearly mocking Davey today.

“I’m sorry,” Ben whispered in between sniffles. “Don’t be mad.”

Ben’s pleas made Davey feel lower than an ant’s belly. He was such an asshole. He pulled Ben into his arms, which of course, got more puke on his Hotlanta T-shirt. But this time he didn’t care.

“I’m not mad,” he said quietly. “At least not at you.” He was totally pissed off at himself. He was the worst father ever. “Come on, let’s clean up, then we’ll go grab a cheese pizza. Okay?”

Ben nodded through his tears. Their waitress appeared, looking a lot less pleased than she had before.

“Sorry,” he said, pulling a hundred-dollar bill from his pocket. He pressed it into her palm. “Keep the change.”

He took Ben to the men’s room where they cleaned up the best that they could.

On the way out of the restaurant, Ben tugged on his arm. “Our waitress was pretty. You gonna call her?”

Davey choked out a laugh. “I’m pretty sure she doesn’t want to hear from us for a long time, buddy.”

Outside, the wet spots on Davey’s T-shirt froze to his chest in the cold night air. Glancing down at Ben, he sighed. The kid had his jacket open, flapping in the December wind.

When they reached his truck, he knelt down in front of Ben. “Let’s zip this up,” he said, but Ben tugged his coat away.

“I don’t like it zipped.”

Davey’s gaze zeroed in on Ben’s brown jacket. As he’d suspected, the coat appeared to be too small. He made a mental note to get his son a new coat. Now, he needed to talk about more important matters, something he wasn’t particularly good at.

He didn’t know what to say, so he started with a heartfelt apology. “I’m sorry.” He wasn’t sure what else to say that would make Ben feel better. ‘I’m an asshole’ wasn’t child-friendly talk—even he knew that—although it summed up his sorry ass very well.

“It’s okay,” Ben said, the usual cheer back in his voice. “I’m not a big burger fan.”

Davey couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, I got that. I was wrong to make you try it, and I’m very sorry.”

“It’s okay, Dad.”

Ben’s instant forgiveness tugged at Davey’s heart. “What’s your favorite pizzeria?” he asked, hoisting Ben into his F-350.

“Romano’s,” Ben said. “They’ve got great pizza.”

Nodding, Davey rounded the hood of the truck and climbed in behind the wheel. “Where’s Romano’s?” It hadn’t been around when Davey’d lived here. Then again, there hadn’t been much in Serenity back then.

“It’s downtown,” Ben said. “Next to Nick’s Hardware.”

“Thanks.” Davey started the ignition, then turned toward Ben. “If you don’t tell your aunt that I made you try a burger, I’ll never ask you to eat beef again. Deal?”

Ben grinned. “Deal,” he said, and they fist-bumped.

That night Davey had a hard time falling asleep. He was a piss-poor father, although not for a lack of trying. He wouldn’t give up because his kid deserved a real father. A man who would have his back, support his dreams, and love him no matter what.

But how did he get there from where he was? He tossed and turned all night long. In the morning, he woke up lamenting his lack of parental support which had likely contributed to his issues with Ben.

Was that true, a voice in his gut challenged? Cruz had been there for him, from the earliest days Davey could remember. But Cruz hadn’t lived with them and thus, hadn’t always known what was going on. Before his mother had left, she’d been there for him too. She’d been kind, caring, and loving. While he’d always felt like he had to earn his dad’s love by winning races, his mom’s love had been the ‘just because’ kind. She’d also supported him, even when it had caused arguments with his dad. Like the time he’d desperately wanted to take Misty to a school dance even though it would cause him to miss a race. He could still remember the angry words his father had spewed at his mother after she’d snuck him out the back door. She had selflessly told him to keep going no matter what he heard.

He rolled to a seated position and almost squashed Daisy. “Sorry, girl,” he said, rubbing his golden retriever’s ears. She looked up at him with pure unconditional love, the same kind of love his mother used to give him.

He got out of bed, tugged on clothes, and then did something he never thought he would do—he called his mother for help.

After placing her phone on the nightstand, Steph picked up her orange tabby and did a little spin. She couldn’t have been more surprised—or more pleased—by Davey’s call. Even though she was sorry he was having a hard time adjusting to fatherhood, she was thrilled he had reached out to her.

“What do you think, Taz?” she asked, giving her cat a gentle squeeze.

Taz let out a mewl of protest but seemed to understand this was a big deal so he made no attempt to jump out of her arms.

“You’re a sweet boy,” she cooed. She rubbed his chin, then put him back on the window seat in his favorite spot in the sun.

She quickly showered and dressed, then made her way downstairs to bake a batch of snickerdoodles. They used to be Davey’s favorite. She didn’t know what his favorite was these days, but she hoped he still liked the cinnamon-sugar cookies.

As she moved back and forth gathering ingredients, she took in the pictures on her refrigerator vision board. The first was a beautiful sprawling home on a lake. She’d always loved the water and could imagine herself waking up to a view of the lake every day. The next picture was of a woman helping another woman. That was no surprise. Long ago, her therapist had indicated that she needed to be needed, perhaps because her own family had moved on without her. She’d addressed that need in part with her family at OTR. Next was the Eiffel Tower because someday she wanted to see the world. The last picture was a gathering of people, young and old, a family of sorts. She’d learned that families came in all shapes and sizes and that they weren’t necessarily blood-related. She knew this first-hand because she had a close-knit family of sorts at OTR.

As she was retrieving two eggs from the refrigerator, the tall, handsome, mocha-skinned man in the family picture caught her attention. Was it because he was surrounded by fair-skinned people? Or maybe, she thought, as she leaned in to take a closer look, it was because he looked a lot like Cruz.

Thinking about Cruz and his friendship over the years gave her a warm, fuzzy feeling. She added the eggs to the butter-sugar blend, turned on the mixer, and lost herself in the Zen of baking.

Before she knew it, the doorbell rang. Finger-fluffing her hair, she made her way through the living room with a mixture of apprehension and hope.

She opened the door and found Davey leaning against the porch column. He had on blue jeans, a faded Ford T-shirt, and a jean jacket. He looked adorable with his long blond bangs and striking blue-green eyes that closely resembled Ben’s. But as she studied their depths, she detected a trace of vulnerability. She had a strong urge to throw her arms around his shoulders and hug him tight. But they didn’t have that kind of relationship…at least not yet.

Instead, she gave him a bright smile. “Hi, Davey.” She stepped aside to make room for him. “Please come in.”

“Would you like something to drink?” she asked after he was inside. “Coffee, soda?”

“I’d love a soda.”

“Sure. Make yourself at home.” She gestured toward the sofa and the plate of cookies. “I made snickerdoodles.”

Davey made a beeline for the cookies. He picked one up and lifted it to his nose. “Mmm. I haven’t had one of these in forever.” After taking a bite, he moaned. “These are really good.”

Ridiculously pleased that Davey still liked her cookies, her heart swelled. “There’s plenty, so help yourself. Be right back.”

In the kitchen, she grabbed a couple of Cokes and two glasses of ice. When she returned to the living room, Davey was in front of the fireplace looking at the collection of pictures on the mantel.

There was one of her with eight-year old Davey hoisting a trophy in front of his go-kart. Another of her, Cruz, and teenage Davey at a local dirt track. Next was a recent photo of Davey standing on top of his Ford, his hand raised triumphantly in the air after his win in Bristol earlier this year. There was also a picture of her, Hud, Jenna, and Nora behind the bar at OTR. The last picture was a small framed photo of Ben that Nora had given to her.

She wondered what Davey was thinking and if he found it presumptuous that she had pictures of him on display. Nerves plucked at her stomach as she placed the tray of drinks on the coffee table. She rubbed her moist palms on her pant legs, then lowered to the couch.

Focus on the now. Blinking her eyes shut, she thought about all that was good in her life. She was healthy and she worked with people who were more like family than employees. She’d recently discovered a wonderful grandson. Last, but certainly not least, her son was not only in Serenity, but was in her living room at this very moment.

Whenever she followed Guru Bob’s advice to bring her attention to the present moment, it grounded her. This time was no different. She opened her eyes, gave a silent prayer of thanks, and waited for Davey to join her.

When he spun around, his expression was hooded, making her wonder once again what he was thinking.

“Have a seat,” she said, patting the couch.

After another glance at the pictures, Davey joined her. “I’m surprised you have any pictures of me.” His voice was low, defensive, and a little hurt.

His words and defensive tone nipped at her heart. While she desperately yearned for a real mother-son relationship, it wasn’t going to happen overnight. As she drew in a breath of patience, she poured one of the Cokes over ice and handed it to him, then fixed a second glass for her.

“Of course I have pictures of you,” she said in a soft voice. “Did you see the wall at the bar?”

Davey took a sip of Coke. “To be honest, I was pretty shocked. Why—” He stopped short and changed his question. “Where did you get them?”

“From Cruz,” she said.

Davey cocked his head. “Why?”

“I asked him to send them.”

Davey clasped his hands on his lap. “Mind if I ask why?”

“You can ask whatever you want.” She met his gaze. “I couldn’t be with you so—”

“Couldn’t?” Davey said, his voice incredulous. “I get why you left Dad. Didn’t like it, but I understood. But you left me too.” On a huff, he ran a hand through his long bangs. “You know what? Forget it.” His entire body jerked as he rose. “This was a bad idea.”

The pit of Steph’s stomach fell. She finally had the chance to talk—really talk—with Davey and she didn’t want to give it up. “Please wait,” she said, rising. “We need this time, we need to talk.”

Davey crossed his arms. A jumble of emotions flashed through his eyes—anger, unease, and maybe even a trace of regret—before he dialed them back to neutral. She wondered how he did that. She wore her emotions on her sleeve or so she’d been told. “Please, Davey. At least hear me out.” She touched a hand to his arm. “Then we’ll talk about Ben.”

Davey’s gaze moved back and forth between her and the door. After a long moment, he eased onto the couch.

Relief flooded her as she lowered next to him. “Things were bad between your dad and I, to the point where I had to leave. I wanted to fight for custody, but you were adamant that you wanted to stay with your father.” Davey had also told her that he hated her and never wanted to see her again but she decided that was best left unsaid.

“Jesus, I was fourteen.” Davey grabbed a cookie and stuffed the whole thing in his mouth.

She took a drink of soda, gathering the nerve to continue. “I tried to get ahold of you.” The lines in Davey’s face tightened but she forged ahead. She wanted him to understand that she’d tried. “I left messages for you. I came to some of your races only to be told you didn’t want to see me.”

Davey gave her a look of disbelief, then gaped at her for what felt like an eternity. “I don’t want to talk about this,” he said tersely. “Can we just talk about Ben?”

She wanted to finish this conversation so they could bridge the chasm that divided them. But she didn’t want to push Davey away so she gave him a resigned smile. “Of course. What’s going on with you and Ben?”

Davey’s face visibly relaxed as he helped himself to another cookie. “Nora didn’t tell you?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Huh.” Davey proceeded to tell her about his recent outings with Ben, including an ATV accident that had required stitches and a series of mishaps involving friends, women, and beer. “Then last night I took Ben out to dinner, just the two of us. I took the liberty of ordering cheeseburgers and fries.”

“Oh, honey, Ben’s a vegetarian.”

Davey let out a rough laugh. “Trust me, I know that now.”

“Didn’t Nora tell you?” she asked, a little perplexed. Nora was nothing if not thorough. “Or Ben?”

When Davey’s head lowered, she got it. Her son thought eating meat was manly or some such crap.

“I made him try a bite,” Davey said. “Then he puked all over the table.”

She tried not to laugh, but a giggle came out anyway.

Davey laughed along with her. “I deserved it for making him try the burger.” He thunked his head against the back of her tan leather sofa. “I’m a crappy father.”

Nothing Davey had shared sounded like a major disaster. Taking a leap of faith, she reached over and put her hand on top of his.

Davey’s gaze zeroed in on their joined hands, but he didn’t pull his hand away. Hope fluttered inside her as strong as a mama bird’s wings. “You’re not a bad father, Davey. You just need time.” Because she didn’t want to press her luck, she moved her hand away and pushed the plate of cookies toward him. While he chomped into another cookie, she refilled his glass of Coke.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice lower and calmer. He chugged some soda, then gave her a skeptical look. “I don’t know how to be a dad.” He sighed. “Nora’s right—my lifestyle isn’t exactly kid-friendly.”

“You have almost ten years of catching up to do.” She gave him an encouraging smile. “You’ll get there.”

“I’m way out of my league.” He choked out a laugh. “In racing, I’m confident as hell. But with Ben, not so much.” He looked at her with big, hopeful eyes. “What should I do?”

She envisioned her, Davey, and Ben going out to dinner, playing with Ben’s friends, and simply hanging out as a family. Quality time with her son and grandson—what could be better than that? But it was a selfish answer. She had only known Ben for a month and she was still learning what kids his age liked to do.

“I think you should ask Nora for help,” she said before she could change her mind. “She and Ben are close, and Nora’s been the one who’s been there for him throughout his life.”

“I’m not sure she’d be willing.” Davey clasped his hands together. “I don’t think she likes me.”

Maybe she could help her son, after all. “I’ll talk to Nora for you.”