Laura Altom - Three Boys and a Baby

“Hey,” she said, placing a hand lightly on his shoulder, “I didn’t mean that as a critique of your parenting skills. It was just an observation. At times—when Dillon thinks no one’s looking—he seems…I don’t know—crushingly lonely.”

“Yeah, well, aren’t we all?” Pushing to his feet, Jackson said, “I’m heading back. Stay as long as you like, and if I hear anything, I’ll—”

“I’m coming with you.” She was on her feet, as well.

“You don’t have to.”

“Of course, I do. For better or worse, we’re in this together and—”

“Don’t…ever…say…that.” Though he didn’t turn to face her, he squared his shoulders as if readying for a fight.

“Say what? We’re in this together?”

He took off walking. His long-legged stride was tough to keep up with, but not impossible.

“Damn you,” she said, snagging the sleeve of his navy polo.

“What’s the matter with you? You act like a walking shell. You can’t just throw something like that out there without—”

Jackson’s cell rang.

“What’ve you got?” Jackson asked, pulse raging upon seeing Hank’s number on his cell’s Caller ID.

“Great news. We’ve found ’em. All four tired and dirty, but safe and sound.”

Relief made Jackson fall to his knees.

“Jackson?” Ella demanded, kneeling beside him. “What is it? Are they hurt?”

Tears he never indulged in flowed.

He pulled her into a hug, burying his face in her hair. “They’re safe. Dillon, your boys—even this mystery baby. All safe.”

He’d started to release her, but now she was crying, quivering, so he held on for dear life. Celebrating life. The lives of their sons. His own life which had miraculously been returned.

“I can’t believe it,” she said, pulling away slightly, her happy, teary smile making her face glow. “I mean, I can. I knew they’d be safe—wanted to hope. But the fear, it took over.”

He nodded. “I know. Wanna go get them? Hank took them to the station. No doubt loading them with candy bars and cookies.”

“Hmm…” she teased, already rising, laughter crinkling the corners of her eyes as she held out her hand to help him. “With all those sweets in them, maybe we should leave them there till they come down from the sugar high?”

OLIVER DIDN’T WANT TO CRY when he first saw his mom running with Dillon’s dad toward him and Dillon and Owen, but as hard as he tried being big, being in charge of two kids and a baby for all that time had taken a lot out of him.

“Mommy!” Owen said, changing to his baby voice, like when he was scared of storms. He got to her first, throwing his arms around her waist. “I missed you so bad. I was starving and Oliver was mean and—”

“I wasn’t mean. I even gave you the last bite of that granola bar and—”

“Did not!” Owen complained. “And anyway, get back. I’m mad at you.”

“You get back! And quit hogging Mom.” Oliver nudged his creepy twin out of the way, grabbing hold of her himself. Squeezing really hard, he closed his eyes and sighed. Man, she smelled nice. Like those good-smelling dryer-sheet thingies she used.

“I missed you so much,” she said, hugging them both.

“Yeah, but you missed me more, right?” Owen pushed in closer. Geez, he was a spoiled brat.

“I’m oldest, so she missed me more, since she’s had me around longest.”

“Hey,” Mom said, scrunching down so she was the same height as them. “I missed both of you more than I can ever say.” She was crying and wiped at her eyes. Oliver hated seeing her cry. He especially hated that him and Owen had been the cause. But they’d had to protect the baby. “That said, I’ve never been more furious with you both. What were you thinking? Running off like that?”

Ella stood, hands on her hips. “You should be ashamed. How many times have I told you that if you have a problem, always to come to me?”

“It was his idea!” both boys said at once, pointing to each other.

“You are sooo lying!” Owen said. “Just trying to get me in trouble.”

“You’re trying to get me in trouble,” Oliver said.

“I don’t care which of you came up with the bright idea to run off,” Ella said. “I’m equally furious with you both.” Still, she couldn’t resist pulling them into another group hug, planting kisses atop their grungy heads. She loved them so much. An impossible-to-calculate much only a mother could understand.

But then she looked across the crowded police station to Jackson standing with Dillon in his arms. Looks like dads understood love, too. The boy rested his head on his father’s strong shoulder and was sucking his thumb. Dillon hadn’t done that in at least a year. The fact that he’d reverted to the old habit spoke volumes for how scared he must’ve been out on the run.

Though the station was a flurry of activity of National Guardsmen packing up equipment, and police slapping each other on their backs for a job well done, Jackson and his son had formed an island of serenity in a frenzied storm.

In all the years Ella had known the man, never had she seen him look more at peace. Well, obviously aside from when he and Julie had still been a couple. But that was a long time ago. He’d been a different man. Just as back then, still with Todd, she’d been a different woman.

“Mommy?” Owen tugged on her shirt. “Can we go home?”

“What about the baby?” Oliver asked. “We can’t just leave her here.”

“She’s at the hospital with Dr. Shepherd,” Ella explained.

“But I thought you’re a baby doctor.”

“I am, sweetie, but Sheriff Hank figured I’d probably want to spend time with my own babies tonight.”

“I’m not a baby,” Oliver pointed out.

“I am,” Owen said. “I’m never running—Hey, look! There’s Dillon’s mom. And she’s crying and hugging his dad. They getting married again?”

The polite thing to do would be to grant them privacy, so how come Ella felt riveted to the sight of Jackson and his ex?

“WANT ICE CREAM for dinner?” Jackson asked his son. The light at the intersection of King and Pine turned yellow. Easing to a stop, he added, “Banana split. Hot-fudge sundae. You name it.”

Dillon shook his head.

“What’s up, bud?” The light turned green, and Jackson accelerated. “You sick?” He reached across the SUV’s front seat to feel his son’s forehead. “You don’t have a fever. Stomach ache?”

“Nah. I just miss Mom. And the baby. Think she’s okay?”

“Mom? Or the baby?”

“The baby. I know Mom’s okay, ’cause she said she’d be home when we get there.”

Swell.

“The baby’s fine. Hank said they’re going to keep her at the hospital nursery until someone claims her.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Comes to pick her up. Hank’s hoping maybe her mom or dad will have second thoughts about leaving her.”

“I don’t know…”

“What?”

“Well, if her parents left her in a basket on the merry-go-round, do they deserve to get her back?”

Jackson sighed. “Good question.” Guilt rumbled through him at his own less-than-stellar parenting skills since Julie left.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?” Jackson pulled the car into their driveway, glad to be home. Gladder still for his son to be safely home, for this second chance to prove how much he loved him.

“Do you think maybe we could keep her?”

“The baby?” He killed the engine.

“I’d take care of her. You’d hardly even know she was here.”

Laughing, ruffling his boy’s dirty hair, Jackson said, “If she’s half as noisy as you were when you were a baby, trust me, the whole neighborhood would know she’s here.”