I can tell he’s taken off guard by my question, because the comfortable smile that was on his face disappears.

“I was afraid, Sam.” He pauses to clear his throat. “I am afraid.”

How can I go from contempt to caring? I was so angry with him during his absence that I prepared an epic speech, ready to chastise him and his terrible choices. I planned to eviscerate him with my words, tear him down so he could feel small and insignificant. I was so angry with him for abandoning his son. And suddenly, I empathize with him and his fear. He’s as ill prepared for this as any unsuspecting bachelor would be.

“I need your help,” he says.

“I am helping, Garrett. This is what I do.”

“No, I mean, I need you to teach me how to do all of this.” His eyes are pleading and his voice is soft. I’m shocked by his request and proud of him at the same time. Why the sudden change of heart?

“Of course I can teach you, but you’d be surprised how much of it you’ll do naturally. Instinct takes over and you suddenly know how to parent.”

He lets out a soft breath. “Again, we’ll have to agree to disagree on that point. I have no instincts, and a few weeks ago, I didn’t want anything to do with being a parent.”

“And now you do?” I ask as I hope this is a legitimate breakthrough. “What made you suddenly decide to try?”

“My mom and dad.”

“Really?”

“They told me Kai deserves a normal and healthy life. I think I want to give that to him.”

I raise my eyebrow. “Yeah?”

“I haven’t been around much lately because I’ve been staying with my parents. I had to tell them about Kai and what was going on, and I wanted to do that in person. After I came home, and met Kai for the first time, I went back to their house. I tried to hide down there. I was afraid to come back.” He looks ashamed and my heart tugs. That explains why he hasn’t been around.

“But you came back,” I state.

“My mother’s very convincing,” he whispers.

“Garrett, if you want to do this, you have to be all in. Do you think you can do that?”

“I have to, don’t I?”

I nod slowly and close my eyes. “Why don’t you sleep on it and tell me in the morning if you want to begin baby boot camp.”

“Sounds like a plan,” he says and stretches comfortably. His eyes become heavy and he sighs deeply.

I also feel sleep pulling me deep, and I don’t fight it. I take it when it comes as infrequently as that may be.

WHEN I WAKE UP, KAI IS STILL MIRACULOUSLY ASLEEP, molded into my chest. He draws from my warmth so he can recharge.

My heart sinks when I see that the day-bed is empty and Garrett is gone.

Garrett

Present

Villanova, Pennsylvania

Age 26

I WAKE UP FULLY CLOTHED. Watching Sam sleep with my son on her chest last night was oddly soothing. I’ve never witnessed tenderness like that before. My mother was always loving and giving with me. But Sam has something more. A gift.

When I watched her with Kai as he screamed and wailed, she never looked stressed or tense. I was balling my fists, hiding in the corner of the room, wincing from the pain from Kai’s agonizing cries. But Sam was an expert. She cradled him like he was her own. He fit against her chest like he belonged there and it was the safest place he could be.

A picture of Sadie fills my brain as anger fills my chest. How could she do this to herself? To her unborn child? I’ve never seen anyone experience pain like this little boy is going through. And I’m helpless, unable to do anything. I’m afraid of hurting him more than he’s already hurting. I imagine the calluses on my fingertips caused by my guitar strings like daggers cutting through his skin, eliciting shrill cries.

A phone rings from my nightstand, and I answer it without looking. It’s probably my mother checking in to be sure I arrived home safely. I’ve been spending a lot of time at my parents’ home in North Carolina, mostly feeling sorry for myself and avoiding the responsibility that’s right down the hall.

“Hello,” I say groggily.

“Hello?” An unfamiliar male voice is on the other end. I hold the phone away from my face so I can see the Caller ID and realize I’m not holding my phone. It’s in a pink case. Nope, not my phone.

“Who is this?” I ask, realizing I must have swiped Sam’s phone by mistake when I left the nursery last night.

“Is this Samantha Weston’s number?” he asks hesitantly.

“Yes, who’s this?” I raise my voice and it surprises me.

“Tell her that Richard Jones called. I wanted to confirm our date for Friday night.”

“Yeah, I’ll tell her, Dick.”

“Excuse me? What did you just call me?”

“Your name, it’s Dick, right? Richard, Rich, Dick?”

“Just tell her I called.” He hangs up, clearly flustered.

I hang up and instinctively erase any evidence of the call from the history. I don’t want her to see evidence of a missed phone call or anything from that guy. What’s wrong with me? I know I have absolutely no right doing this, and I don’t know why I even did. I have no control over Sam. But the sound of that dude’s voice annoyed me. I wonder if he’s her boyfriend. I hope not. Again, I have no right knowing.

I’m an ass.

I roll over and feel my own phone in my front pocket. I pull it out and see that I’ve missed three calls from my mother.

I hit her on speed dial and press the phone against my ear. “Garrett, I’ve been so worried,” she says instead of saying “Hello.”

“Hi to you too, Mom. I’m fine.”

“We had such terrible thunderstorms that I thought your flight would be delayed.”

“Nope, I made it out just in time. It was a quick, uneventful flight.”

“Please don’t come home again,” she says sternly.

“What?” I ask as my heart leaps out of my chest. Why would she say that?

“Oh, I don’t mean it like that. It’s just, like I told you the other night, you need to focus on your son. You need to bond with him. He needs you.”

When I was home, she lectured me the best way she knew how and tried to get me to see what a gift I’ve been given. I admitted that I’ve been avoiding this situation, and I do need to take responsibility, but I’m scared shitless.

“Do as you’re told, Garrett.” I can hear the smile in her voice.

“Yes, Mother.”

“Call me on Sunday and let me know how your week has gone. Your father and I would like to come up to meet our grandson at the end of the month. Is that okay?”

“Sure,” I say. I can’t imagine what it’ll be like when they arrive. I wonder if Kai will be better.

“Goodbye, sweetheart,” she says and hangs up.

I HAD A MEETING WITH THE BAND today and our management team to discuss plans for the upcoming album. We’re all dragging our feet in creating it, and the label is starting to put the pressure on. But we’re all so preoccupied, most of us can’t find the time. Dax has been aloof and is uncharacteristically avoiding us as much as possible. Tristan’s moving into a new house that he built about twenty minutes from here and has been too busy designing his “man cave.” Alex still writes for us, but he’s only sent lyrics to two songs and we need at least twelve. I can’t blame him; he and Tabby built a house in the same neighborhood as Tristan, and they’ve got two kids. The only one who’s doing anything is Heath. He says he’s written lyrics to a couple of songs and is anxious to get tracks laid for them.