Considering Kate
Page 35

Brody had explained why it wasn't possible just now, patiently sympathized. Then had fallen back on the parental cop-out—because I said so—when the siege had shown no sign of ending. As a result, he'd had a sulky kid on his hands for two days, and a raging case of the guilts. The combination made it very crowded in the small bathroom where he was trying to lay tile.
"You never let me go anywhere," Jack complained. He was thoroughly bored with the small pile of toys he'd been allowed to bring along.
Usually he liked coming to the job with his dad. But not when his best friend was in Disney World riding on Space Mountain. It was a gyp. A big fat gyp, he thought, relishing one of the words he'd picked up from the crew.
When his father ignored him and continued to lay tile, Jack stuck out his bottom lip. "How come I couldn't go to Grandma's?"
"I told you Grandma was busy this morning. She's going to come by and pick you up in a couple of hours. Then you can go over to her house." Thank God.
"I don't want to stay here. It's boring. It's not fair I gotta stay here and do nothing while everybody else has fun. I never get to doanything."
Brody shoved his trowel into the tray of adhesive. "Look. I've got a job to do. A job that sees to it you eat regular."
Damn it, how was his father's voice suddenly coming out of his mouth?
"I'm stuck with it," he added, "and so are you. Now keep it up, Jack. Just keep it up, and you won't be going anywhere."
"Grandpa gave me five dollars," Jack said, tearing up. "So you don't have to buy me any food."
"Great. Terrific. I'll retire tomorrow."
"Grandma and Grandpa can take me to Disney World, and you can't go."
"They're not taking you anywhere," Brody snapped, cut to the bone by the childish slap. "You'll be lucky to go to Disney World by the time you're thirty. Now, cut it out."
"I want Grandma! I want to go home! I don't like you anymore." Kate walked in on that, and the resulting angry, tired tears. She took one look at Brody's exhausted, frustrated face, the cranky little boy sprawled weeping on the floor, and stepped into the fray.
"What's all this, Handsome Jack?"
"I wanna go to Disney World."
He sobbed it out, between hiccups. Even as Brody got to his feet to deal with it, Kate crouched down between father and son. "Oh, boy, me, too. I bet we'd all like to go there more than anyplace."
"Dad doesn't."
"Sure he does. Dads like to go most of all. That's why it's harder for them, because they have to work."
"Kate, I can handle this."
"Who said you couldn't?" she muttered, but picked up the boy and got to her feet. "I bet you're tired of being cooped up, aren't you, baby? Why don't we go to my house awhile, and let Dad finish his work?"
"My mother's coming by to get him in a couple of hours. Just let me—" He reached for his son who only curled himself like a snake around Kate—and effectively cut his heart in two. One look at the blank hurt on Brody's face made her want to sandwich Jack between them in a hard hug. But that, she thought wasn't the immediate answer. Distance was.
"I'm done for the day here, Brody. Why don't you let Jack come home with me, keep me company." Take a nap, she mouthed. "I'll call your mother and ask her to pick him up at my house instead."
"I want to go with Kate." Jack sobbed against her shoulder.
"Fine. Great." The miserable mix of temper and guilt had him snatching up his trowel again. Very much, Kate thought, like a cranky boy. "Thanks."
He sat down heavily on an overturned bucket as he heard Jack sniffle out, as Kate carried him off: "My daddy yelled at me."
"Yes, I know." She kissed Jack's hot, wet cheek as she walked downstairs. "You yelled at him, too. I bet he feels just as sad as you do."
"Nuh-uh." With a heavy, heavy sigh, Jack rested his head on Kate's shoulder. "He wouldn't take me to Disney World like Rod."
"I know. I guess that's my fault."
"How come?"
"Well, your dad's doing this job for me, and he promised me it would be done by a certain time. Because he promised, I made promises to other people who are depending on me now. If your dad broke his promise to me, then I broke mine to the other people, that wouldn't be right. Would it, Jack?"
"No, but, maybe just this one time."
"Does your dad break his promises to you?"
"No." Jack's head drooped.
"Don't be sad, Handsome Jack. When we get to my house, we're going to read a story about another Jack. The one with the beanstalk."
"Can I have a cookie?"
"Yes." In love, she gave him a hard squeeze.
He was asleep almost before Jack sold his cow for magic beans.
Poor little boy, she thought, tucking a light throw over him. Poor Brody. She began to think she hadn't given the man enough credit. Parenthood wasn't all wrestling on the floor and ball games in the yard. It was also tears and tantrums, disappointments and discipline. It was saying no, having to say no, when your heart wanted to say yes.
"You're so well loved, Handsome Jack," she murmured and bent over to kiss the top of his head. "He needs you to know that."
And so is he, she thought with a sigh. "I wish the man would buy a clue. Because I'm not waiting much longer. I want both of you."
When the phone rang, she snatched it from the cradle. "Hello. Ah." Smiling now, she walked out of the room so as not to disturb Jack. "Davidov. What have I done to deserve a call from the master?" Later, though she admitted it was foolish, Kate freshened her makeup and tidied her hair. It was the first time she would meet Brody's parents. Since she intended for them to be her in-laws, she wanted to make a good impression.
Jack had wakened from his nap energized. This had called for some running around the backyard, a fierce battle with action figures and a race with miniature cars that had resulted in a satisfying wreck of major proportions.
They finished the entertainment off with a snack in the kitchen.
"My dad's mad at me," Jack confided over slices of apple and cheese.
"I don't think so. I think he's a little upset because he couldn't give you what you wanted. Inside, parents want to give their children everything that would make them happy. But sometimes they can't." She remembered throwing some impressive tantrums herself—snarls followed by sulks. And ending, she thought, like this in guilty unhappiness.