Hold On Tight(49)

“You’re a smart girl, Sienna. Use that brain of yours and make a life that kid you were determined to have deserves. Let the past be the past.” And with that, Aunt Cathy hung up the phone.

I wasn’t surprised. Not really. She’d always been that way. Not once had she cooed over or cuddled Micah. She had treated us as if she was our warden, and now I realized that was really all she ever had been. But I’d been so desperate for someone to love us that I’d accepted whatever she was willing to give.

I looked out the window at the Falcos’ across the street. They loved us. More important, they loved Micah. Maybe it was time I called my mother. I had to forgive her and forget the past. If she wanted to see Micah, who was I to keep her from him? He loved having family. He deserved it.

A knock on the bedroom door stopped me from calling her. I put the phone down, walked over, and opened it up to Dewayne holding a sleeping Micah.

“You want to change him before you put him in bed?” he asked in a whisper.

I nodded. “Take him to his room and lay him on the bed. I’ll take it from there.”

Dewayne did as instructed. I followed him to Micah’s room, and then he stepped out while I took my time changing Micah into his pajamas. I kept waiting for the sound of the front door closing, but it wasn’t happening. Which meant Dewayne was waiting on me. When I couldn’t do anything else, I tucked Micah in and slipped quietly from his room.

Dewayne was standing in the living room with his arms crossed over his chest, staring at the pictures of Micah and me I had lining the mantel. One was from the day he learned to take his first steps. Another was from his third birthday. The last one was taken the day I graduated from beauty school.

“You were just a kid here,” he said, picking up the photo of me and Micah when he’d taken his first steps.

“I was almost eighteen,” I said. But I had been a kid.

“You look so proud of him. You don’t look tired or bitter. Just happy.”

“I was happy. My baby boy was walking, and I was the only person he would walk to. He was trying to follow me around the house. That’s how he started walking. Crawling wasn’t fast enough.”

Dewayne set it back down. “Do you have extras? I’d like photos of him and you. My mom and dad would too.”

I had taken so many photos and sent them with the missing letters. I’d also been keeping a scrapbook for my parents up until he was three and I realized they were never going to reach out and get to know Micah. So I’d stopped making it. But I still had it.

“I have a scrapbook of his first three years that y’all can have. I can get you copies of photos from the past two years to add to it.”

Dewayne smiled. “That would be great. I want to see him as he grows. I want to see you with him. I love watching the way he looks at you. It says a lot about you and what kind of mother you are. That kid thinks you can do no wrong. He tells my mom and dad all about the things you’ve taken him to do and the things you cook that he loves. I think Momma may love you more than she loves me these days.”

He grinned when he said it. That was the only reason I knew he was kidding. I didn’t want to make him feel like I was trying to walk into his life and change it. I just wanted Micah to get to be a part of his life. Micah already loved him.

“Your mother loves you,” I said, assuring him.

He chuckled and nodded. “Yeah, she does. Don’t know why.”

Because you’re lovable and kind. Because you make everyone around you smile. Because you have a really big heart. I remember you taking the time to make a scared little fourteen-year-old girl feel safe in high school. I didn’t say any of those things, though. I couldn’t. Not now. Not after last night.

“You’re blushing. You thinking about last night?” he said with a wicked gleam in his eyes.

I covered my warm cheeks with my hands, hating my tendency to blush.

“It’s okay. I can’t seem to stop thinking about it either.”

Oh my. The silly flip my heart always did around him turned into a wild flutter.

“Problem is, I got to stop thinking about it. You do too. We can’t go there. We have Micah to think about, and I don’t do relationships, Sienna. It’s not me. I’m my own man. I don’t like to be tied down. I don’t even want to think of settling down. Being the man you deserve. It’s not me. You need the settling-down type. You need a Cam Dodge in your life. Not me. Us,” he said, motioning his hand between the two of us, “we’re friends. Hell, we’re family. That boy in there is what’s important, and we both love him. Let’s not mess up what he needs with something that won’t end well.”