Chapter 27
Colby
“Hmm,” Dax says, his eyes trained on my laptop. “Every mention of Officer Decker’s death says he was survived by his wife and two kids. Didn’t Kat say Lydia’s got three kids?”
“Yeah, Kat definitely said Lydia has three kids,” I say.
“You think maybe Kat heard wrong?”
“No. She was sure.”
Dax considers that. “Do you think maybe Lydia had a kid with some other guy after her husband died? It’s physically possible. Her husband died exactly three years ago.”
I rub my face. I can’t process this. Lydia brightens every room she walks into. Her smile lights my soul on fire. She laughs easily and often. She’s joy and serenity incarnate. And she’s been through a tragedy like this?
Dax begins clacking on my keyboard again. “I’m gonna figure this mystery out. If Lydia’s got a third kid, I’m gonna find him or her.”
I close my eyes again. I can’t believe Lydia hasn’t once said something like, “Oh, you’re having nightmares, Colby? Well, let me tell you what kinds of nightmares I’ve had.’”
“Wow, Colby,” Dax says, his eyes still trained on my laptop. “It seems like this Darren Decker was a great guy. You totally would have been friends with him. He looks like one of your buddies from the firehouse.” He continues scanning my screen. “Oh, here’s a headshot. Wow, he was a really good-looking dude, huh?” He tilts my screen and I’m met with the smiling face of a guy who for some reason reminds me of Ryan.
“He’s Ryan with darker hair and brown eyes,” I say.
“Totally,” Dax agrees. He clacks on my keyboard again. “Oh, shit. I found Lydia’s third kid, bro.” He tilts the computer screen toward me and I’m met with an article dated five months after Officer Decker’s death entitled, “Slain Officer’s Wife Accepts Posthumous Award for Bravery on His Behalf.” Dax says, “Check out the photo.”
Dax scrolls down... and there she is. Lydia. She’s standing with a somber little boy and a heartbreaking little girl on either side of her, holding their hands. She looks devastated. Exhausted. Sick as a dog. And unmistakably pregnant.
“Lydia,” I whisper. The image before my eyes is too much for my heart to bear. Those three devastated faces. The tragic beauty of Lydia’s bulging belly. The Medal of Honor dangling from her little son’s neck.
Every fiber of my body wants to leap through my computer screen and comfort those three poor faces. To somehow take away their pain.
“They look just like her,” Dax says, referring to Lydia’s kids.
I can’t reply. I’m too wrecked by the sight of Lydia’s swollen belly to speak. Too plagued by images of Lydia crying herself to sleep at night while trying to comfort those two poor kids. Or giving birth without her husband by her side. I keep seeing Lydia dropping her phone and crumpling to the ground after receiving that horrible, devastating phone call.
“Colby? Are you okay? You look pale.”
I open my mouth to reply, just as the front door opens and Ralph bounds in, followed by my laughing parents.
“Oh my gosh, Ralph was in rare form tonight,” my mother says gaily, putting Ralph’s leash on a side table. “We went down to the dog park and Ralphie saw his little poodle friend and—” Mom’s eyes lock onto my face and her expression instantly morphs into one of deep concern. “Colby? What’s wrong?” She rushes to me. “Are you in pain?”
“Colby just found out something tragic about Lydia,” Dax explains.
Mom’s brow furrows. “Physical Therapist Lydia?”
I bow my head and rest my face in my hand. I can’t have this conversation with my parents right now. If ever I wondered about the intensity of my feelings for Lydia before this moment, those doubts have been erased now. Seeing the photo of her standing there with those kids... seeing her pregnant belly... Oh, God, it’s now more clear to me than ever before: Lydia Decker owns me, heart and soul.
“This is horrible,” Mom says after reading the article about the death of Lydia’s husband. “Thomas!” she calls toward the kitchen. “Thomas, come see this!”
Dad ambles in from the kitchen holding a glass of water, a question on his face, and Mom tearfully explains the whole thing to him before turning to me and saying, “Lydia hasn’t told you about any of this?”
“Apparently, it’s not something she talks about with her patients.”
Mom’s face softens. She sits on the end of the couch and grabs my hand. “Sweetheart, you have no idea what’s been going through poor Lydia’s head—why she hasn’t opened up to you about this. There’s no right or wrong way to grieve. I’m sure she’s doing her best.”
“Can I ask you something, son?” my dad asks, and we all give him our undivided attention. Thomas Morgan rarely speaks, so when he does, we sure as hell listen. Dad says, “Do you feel like you’re at a place in your life where you’re ready to become the only living father figure to three kids?”
I open and close my mouth. Whoa. The dude doesn’t fuck around.
Dad continues, “If you pursue this woman, there’s no room to do it casually, son. You need to do it with a lifelong commitment in mind, at least as a real possibility. Or don’t even start with her at all.”
“Check out Pops!” Dax says. “Stealing a page from Jerry Maguire!”
Everyone looks at Dax quizzically.
“Remember? Cuba Gooding, Jr. told Tom Cruise not to steal the goods from a single mom? Only he didn’t say ‘the goods.’”
Mom pokes my good thigh. “You hear that, Colby Edwin? Don’t steal the goods from single-mother Lydia.”
“Okay, Mom,” I say. “Got it.”
Mom pats my arm. “Good boy. That’s why you’re my favorite son.”
“Hey,” Dax says. “You’re not supposed to say stuff like that, Mom. You’re supposed to make each one of us think we’re secretly your favorite.”
“Well, of course, you’re my favorite, Daxy,” Mom says. “I’m just feeling sorry for Colby right now, that’s all.” She puts her hand to the side of her lips and stage-whispers to me, “You’re honestly my favorite.”
I laugh.
Mom giggles, gets up, and motions to Dad. “Come on, Old Man. Beddy-bye time for the old farts.” She looks at Dax. “Will you help Colby tonight with whatever he might need?”
“Yup,” Dax says. “I’ll get little Colby Edwin into his dinosaur jammies, make sure he brushes and flosses his teethies, and goes peepee. It’ll be good practice for when I babysit Kat’s baby one day.”
Mom rolls her eyes. “Oh my God. I still can’t believe our baby is having a baby.”
“She’ll be fine,” I say. “Josh loves her and he’s not going anywhere. He’s made that clear.”
“But he doesn’t plan to marry her,” Dad pipes in, his tone not at all pleased.
“They don’t need the paper, Dad,” Dax says. “Josh will always take care of Kat and the baby. She’ll be fine.”
“Well, either way, there’s nothing we can do about it now but love and support Kitty through this,” Mom says. “Which we shall do.” She grabs Dad’s arm and puts her cheek on his shoulder. “Good night, honey pies. Sleep tight.”
“Hey, Mom and Dad?” I say, halting their movement. “Can I ask you something?”
They look at me expectantly.
I take a long, deep breath. “Do you think being a father figure for three fatherless kids is something I would do well? I mean, if I were to pursue Lydia after my physical therapy is over, which is what I’ve been planning to do, do you think I’m up for a job that big?”
Mom smiles. “I can’t think of a better man for a job that big, sweetheart.”
Dad nods his agreement. “You want my advice, son? Take things slow with Lydia, especially while you’re still healing. If you start feeling like the job is too big for you, leave yourself room to bail out before those kids get too attached. Better for everyone to know up front if you’re not ready. The worst thing you could do would be to start making implicit promises to those three kids you can’t or don’t intend to keep. They’ve already been through enough abandonment. Don’t let them get too attached unless you’re sure you’re in it for the long haul.”
I nod. Holy motherfucking shit. This is intense.
Dad continues, “I’ve seen the way you interact with Lydia, son. The chemistry is undeniable. But there’s more at stake here than your mutual attraction. There are five hearts on the line here: yours, Lydia’s, and those three kids’. If anyone’s heart is going to get broken, then be the Morgan man we’ve raised you to be and make sure the only heart that gets broken is yours.”