Monday, but like I said, I will let you know. See y’all later.” He headed for the door, and his mother followed him.
“Son...”
His brothers said that Phoenix was the favorite because he was the baby, and he realized for the first time today that they were right. His mother was having a hard time letting go. He didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but he had to be blunt.
He looked into her worried brown eyes. “I’m okay, Mom. Please understand I have to do this alone.” He hugged her briefly, kissed her cheek and walked out the door to the new life that awaited him.
* * *
HE MADE IT to Austin in time to meet with Ms. Henshaw, and they went over the legalities of the situation and what he was to expect in Denver. Then he was on his way to the airport. The two-hour flight wasn’t bad, but it seemed to drag. He was eager to get there and to meet the boy who would now become part of his life.
Besides Jake, thoughts of Rosie occupied his mind. She was so different last night. Lovable and likable were words that came to mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about her and wondered where she lived. Probably close to Temple, where the Walmart was. What did it matter? He and Rosie had no future. He had enough to deal with without getting involved with a McCray. He’d told himself that many times since the encounter in Oklahoma, but his thoughts always winged back to her.
There was something about her expression when she was staring at the doll. Sadness mixed with a resignation she was trying to hide. He sensed she wanted to reach out and touch it and she was forcing herself not to. Why was she so mesmerized by the doll? There had to be a reason, and against every sane thought in his head, he wanted to find out why.
The plane landed at the Denver airport and his focus turned to Jake. The way it had to be.
Rosie McCray was just a passing fantasy.
After landing at Denver International Airport, Phoenix called the number Ms. Henshaw had given him. Ms. Bauer, the Colorado CPS case worker, picked him up outside the terminal. She was much younger than Ms. Henshaw, somewhere in her thirties, with a friendly smile. Her blond hair was pinned back, and her blue eyes reminded him of someone else. He wondered if Rosie was thinking about him as much as he was thinking about her. Probably not.
Phoenix always enjoyed the Mile High City. Because of its elevation, some cowboys had breathing problems here, but Phoenix never did. The weather was a pleasant eighty degrees, and Ms. Bauer said it would get down into the low forties by morning. It was nice compared with the heat he’d left behind in Texas. They passed the stadium where the Denver Broncos played. Phoenix had almost forgotten football season had started.
Ms. Bauer drove to the foster home where Jake was staying. It was in a nice residential area with small brick houses. She parked behind an SUV in the driveway.
“Jake is a sweet little boy, but he has some problems,” Ms. Bauer said before getting out of the car.
“What do you mean?”
“You have to understand that he’s grieving. We’re all very patient with him. There are four other kids in the house, and he hits when he doesn’t get his way. ‘No’ is his favorite word. He’s also a runner.”
“A runner?”
“Yes. If he can get a door open, he’s gone. Mr. and Mrs. Devers are in their late fifties, and it’s hard for them to catch him. Tom, Mr. Devers, has put latches high on the doors so he can’t get out. We think he’s searching for his great-grandmother, and we believe he will settle down once he’s in a stable environment again.”
Phoenix hoped so, too. It was just like Rosie had said. He was in a what-have-I-gotten-myself-into kind of moment. But he would stand by his kid no matter what. He unfolded his body from the compact car.
“Since the Devers have four other children, we have to respect their privacy.”
“Of course. I just want to see my son.”
They walked up to the front door, and Ms. Bauer rang the bell. It opened to a middle-aged woman with graying brown hair holding a baby.
“Oh, Ms. Bauer, it’s good to see you. Come in.”
Phoenix followed Ms. Bauer into a large living area cluttered with toys. Through double windows he could see two older boys playing in the backyard. But his eyes were riveted on a little boy and a little girl sitting on the carpet playing with trucks.
“Mrs. Devers, this is Mr. Rebel, Jake’s father.”
The woman juggled the baby onto her shoulder and shook his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Jake really needs someone. He’s been a handful crying for his greatgrandmother. He just seems very unhappy.”
Phoenix twisted his hat in his hand. “May I go over and speak to him?” It seemed odd asking to speak to his own son. He was willing to follow the rules, though.
“Sure. Just don’t be surprised if he doesn’t respond.”
“I’ll wait here,” Ms. Bauer said.
Phoenix placed his hat on the arm of the sofa, walked over and squatted beside the boy and the girl. At that moment the little girl took the truck from Jake and he shouted, “No!” and yanked it back. “Mine,” he added.
Phoenix had no idea what to say. Words were useless. He would be just another person saying something Jake didn’t understand. He had to go with his gut feeling. The problem was, his gut was saying, Run like hell. But he stayed rooted to the spot because when he’d said he’d take responsibility, he’d meant it.
Phoenix watched his son. Even thinking the word son seemed foreign to him, but he would adjust. Jake’s little hands clutched the truck. His dark hair was tousled across his forehead. He needed a haircut. He wore pull-up pants and a T-shirt, and his feet were bare. Phoenix stared at his toes. Phoenix’s toes were shaped the same way—slanted. It was a small thing, but maybe it was what he’d been looking for, a clue to show him this little boy was his.
The girl grabbed the toy again, and Jake hit her. “No!” Jake shouted.
Without thinking, Phoenix grabbed his hand before he could hit her again. “No. We don’t hit girls.”
Narrowed eyes glared at him, and Jake’s face scrunched into a frown.
Phoenix reached out, picked him up and then got to his feet, carrying him to the sofa. Sitting down with Jake on his lap, he waited for the frown to disappear. It didn’t.
“Do you know what daddy means?”
Jake pointed to the girl.
“She has a daddy?” he asked Jake, but Mrs. Devers answered.
“Yes, Allie has a daddy. He comes to visit all the time and is trying to gain custody of her and her older brother, who is playing outside. Jake knows what daddy means.”
Jake stared back at him, the frown not so intense now.
“I’m your daddy. Do you understand
