“You have a lovely home,” Ret said, sitting on the couch in the living room as I sat across from him.

“Thank you.” I smiled, but inside I was slowly dying.

What the fuck was I thinking? There was going to be hell to pay afterward. I was known for pulling some shit, but even this was beyond me. I was sticking my nose in places that I never thought I’d be willing to take a whiff and live with myself.

“I talked to my sister,” Ret said, filling the uncomfortable silence.

I smiled at the spitting image of Bear. The tiny lines around Ret’s eyes weren’t near as deep as Bear’s, but everything else about him matched. From his wide shoulders, large arms, gruff voice, and hard face—there was no mistaking that they were father and son.

“How is she?”

“Ready for her pregnancy to be over.” He laughed softly, and the faintest lines appeared near his eyes.

“I’m sure.” I plucked at the nonexistent lint on my jeans. “She’s so beautiful.”

“She said nice things about you, ma’am. It’s one reason why I came. She said it was time I talked to my father and set shit straight.”

“She sounds a lot like me.” I chuckled, covering my mouth with the back of my hand.

“She’s a bossy thing. When we were little, she’d pretend I was hers. My entire life, she’s told me what to do.”

“Women,” I muttered because I knew we caused more shit out of our need to be helpful.

“When’s he getting here?” Ret glanced down at his watch and tapped the glass.

“Any minute now.” My voice was shrill, and my stomach was jumping around like I had gymnasts inside.

“What has he said about me?”

Even though a man sat across from me, all I saw was a little boy who wanted to hear that he was loved and wanted. It was the basic need of any child. When Bear left Ret with his sisters, it stripped him of that.

“He told me what happened with your mom and how his sisters raised you and Janice. He’s never gotten over the regret from that.”

“He could’ve come back for us.”

“Oh honey, your dad went down a dark path. It’s hard to come back from how far he fell.”

“How far?” He crossed his arms over his wide chest and leaned back into the sofa.

“He was in and out of jail a lot before you were even five. I think he got mixed up in drugs and drank a lot too. He knew he wasn’t good for you.”

“Fran, I would’ve taken a fucked-up dad as long as he loved me.”

“You say that now, but it’s easy to say without living it, Ret.”

“I guess,” he sighed.

“He loved your mom so much that he didn’t think he deserved any happiness. I think he was trying to find a way to join her without actually doing it himself.”

“That would’ve been tragic,” he muttered.

“It would’ve.”

“I spent a good portion of my teenage years in therapy, Fran. It’s hard to know your mother died when she had you. There’s a guilt that comes with that knowledge.”

“God,” I said and stroked my neck. “I never thought of that.”

“Dad could’ve helped me get over that quicker. His rejection made it easier to believe that I killed her.”

My entire body rocked back at the horrific admission he had just made. I’m sure Bear never thought of it that way. He figured he was doing a favor to his kids by leaving them with his sisters, giving them the love of a woman over his.

“Your father never blamed you. He blamed himself, sweetie. I think you’ve both been feeling the same pain for far too long.”

His eyebrows drew down over his eyes. “Why would he feel that way?”

“Men are supposed to protect their women, and your father wasn’t able to do that for Jackie. Naturally, he’s going to feel like he messed up somehow. You’re a man. You should understand the need to fix everything.”

He smiled and it was genuine. “I know the feeling well.”

I stared at him, lost in his eyes when I heard Bear’s bike outside. I froze, my body going rigid and my stomach kicking back into action.

“Well,” Ret said, standing up and taking a deep breath. “I guess it’s now or never.”

“It’ll be fine. Your dad is easygoing,” I lied and walked toward the door, clutching my stomach and praying that Bear didn’t walk back out as soon as he saw I’d ambushed him again.

Instead of walking up to the door, he stood outside, staring at Ret’s truck. Slowly, I opened the door and waved with the biggest smile on my face.

“Hey, baby. I’m so happy you’re back.”

He looked at me and then back to the truck and scratched his beard, silent.

Well, fuck. This isn’t going exactly as I’d planned.

“Who’s inside, Franny?” His eyebrow was cocked. That wasn’t a look that instilled a warm and fuzzy feeling in my already shaking body.

“Just a friend. Come on.” I waved him inside, holding the door open but not moving.

“You come here.” He pointed toward the ground, his eyes still going back and forth between the truck and me like a pinball in a machine.

“It’s too hot outside.” I was grasping at straws, and just like the man he was—seeing right through me—he knew the type of woman I was—a trick up every sleeve.

“Fran. Out here now,” he demanded and snapped his fingers.

Instead of running, I crossed my arms and glared at him. “I don’t know who you think you’re snapping those meat sticks at, buddy, but it sure as fuck isn’t me.”

“Fran,” he started to plead, but I kept talking.

“You don’t want to come in? Fine. I’ll meet you halfway, but you ever snap your fingers at me like I’m an animal again, and I’ll break them in your sleep.”

Ret laughed, and I turned to face him, giving him a sweet smile. “Just letting him know who’s boss.”

“Remind me never to cross you, Fran. You’d do mighty fine with a whip in your hands.”

I laughed nervously. “Thanks.”

“Fine, sweetheart. I’m coming up,” Bear said, finally coming to his senses.

I don’t know what came over me. Usually, I’m not quite so stern, but goddamn it, he was ruining my fabulous surprise.

“I’m coming down,” I told him, glancing back at Ret and holding up a finger. “Be right back.”

“I can go,” he offered.

“Sit your ass down,” I told him and closed the door behind me before marching my skinny-jean-covered ass down the stairway to Bear.

I huffed the entire walk down to him. My knees were still a little wobbly, but I was too pissed off to really pay much attention to them. “Why won’t you come in?” I asked, trying to use my sweetest voice.

“Oh, now you’re sweet. You’re talking about breaking my… What did you call them?” He tapped his chin and smiled. “Meat sticks. And now you’re acting like June Cleaver.”

“I have a surprise for you. An old friend stopped over. You’re going to want to see them.”

“Them?” he asked, his finger stopped on his lip.

“Him.” I smiled so big my cheeks hurt.

He sighed. “Fran, you’ve got to stop with the surprises. They aren’t my favorite thing in the world, but you insist on doing it.”

“This is your payback, but trust me, you’re going to like it.” I grabbed his hand and started yanking him toward the house.

He dug his heels into the cement, and his feet didn’t move—like there was glue on the bottom, holding him to the ground. “Who’s inside?”

Intertwining my fingers with his, I gave them a soft squeeze. “Promise you won’t be mad?”

“Fran.”

“Well.” I swallowed and took a deep breath. “Ret’s inside.”

“My son, Ret?”

“No, Bear.” I rolled my eyes. “Ret, the pool guy.”

His eyes widened, and his body rocked back. “My son is here?” He pointed toward the ground.

“No, in there.” I pitched my thumb over my back. “Waiting for you and watching your reaction very carefully.”

His eyes went to the window and back to mine. “He’s here.”

I nodded. “In there.”

“Shit,” he said, releasing my hand and running toward the door without any more nudging from me.

I turned around, but I didn’t move as he flung open the door and walked inside. Through the large bay window in the front of the house, I could see them both clear as day.

Bear stared at Ret for a moment, and Ret stood from the couch. A few words were muttered, and I wish I could’ve heard them. Bear stalked toward Ret and scooped him into his arms. At first, Ret didn’t return the gesture, but a few seconds later, he wrapped his arms around his father.

Tears began to well in my eyes, and I wanted to go inside and listen to the reunion, but instead, I just watched.

I had eavesdropped on his talk with Janice, but I knew this one would be different—more important and more personal.

Bear kept hold of Ret, pulling back every so often for a moment to look at his younger reflection before cocooning him in another hug.

Tears streamed down my face from the beauty of the moment. It was better than I imagined when I concocted my little plan.

My knees were shaking as I leaned against the truck, my nerves still frazzled from earlier. Shaking out my hands, I tried to calm myself, but I needed something more. Spotting the fake flowerpot where I stored an extra key and a pack of cigarettes, I glanced around the yard before making a beeline for my hiding spot.

My fingers shook as I opened the hidden compartment around the back and pulled out the pack and lighter. I could barely light the cigarette through my tears and shakes.

“Jesus,” I muttered with the filter in my mouth, struggling to steady my hand.

“Fran!”

Naturally, the moment I was going to give myself chemical solace, Bear walked outside to find me. That was exactly how shit had been going down. Tucking the pack, including my unlit cigarette, and lighter back inside, I took a few deep breaths and tried to calm myself before I started to walk toward him.

“Hey,” I said, peeking around the corner and catching a glimpse of him standing near the doorway.

As soon as he saw me, he jogged down to meet me. “Hey, sweetheart.” He brushed the tears from his cheeks. “I don’t even know what to say.”

Placing my hand on his chest, I stood on my tiptoes and kissed his lips. “Don’t say a thing.”

He wrapped his hands around my upper arms, gripping me tightly as he stared down at me. “I’m just so…so…”

“I know, Bear.” I smiled.

“Why didn’t you come inside?”

“I wanted to give you time alone.”

“He’s so much like me, Franny. It’s like looking in a mirror.” He looked like a little kid, so excited and full of wonder. “He’s me, but not. You know?”

“He’s very handsome.”

“Let’s go in, babe. I don’t want you to feel like an outsider. This is your house.”

I nodded, staying tucked under his arm as we walked toward the front door. “So you’re not mad at me?”

“Fran, I’m never mad at you. But you do pull some big shit.”

“That’s what makes me great.” I chuckled.

He kissed the top of my head. “It’s what makes you mine,” he said into my hair as we walked through the door.