Tis The Season For Forgiving Read online

  If this wasn't a sign to keep ahead and not fall back to his own old habits, he didn't know what was. It kind of reminded him of that old movie Scrooge, except this was far worse.

  Why was he thinking about a classic Christmas story right now?

  The hardest part was that Eric had to talk to Adrian's widow and young son. He'd made a promise to his dying friend as they'd waited for help that night.

  For once, he wanted to make good on a promise. But what did he say to this grieving family? Hell, he wasn't good at this! Talking in general wasn't something he did very well. Just ask his ex-wife and ex-girlfriend, both whom he'd had children with.

  He was an asshole.

  Even trying to be better, Eric's opinion of himself hadn't changed, and he sure as hell didn't want to know what Petra or Cheyenne thought of him.

  He really shouldn't care, but lately he did.

  "You'll screw it all up. It's what you always do."

  The nagging voice in his head sounded just like this father. It was the same nagging tone he heard all the time. Dad hadn't spoken to him since the day he'd been released from jail, but Eric heard the voice in his head all the time. Negative, just like his father had been for the past however many years. Ever since...

  Ever since he'd screwed up. The one he couldn't forget. Wouldn't forget.

  Fuck this. Eric rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to shove out the annoying voices. He'd do this, no matter what the hell happened. Stop yelling in my head, Dad!

  He approached the small, rundown house and wondered what Adrian's family would do now. His little boy looked to be a couple years younger than Ben. What was his name again? Evan? Ethan? He couldn't remember.

  Once inside, Eric debated on turning around. Damn, he'd never been so nervous before! The house was full of mourners talking quietly among themselves.

  It was too much. He wasn't claustrophobic, but he almost couldn't breathe.

  "Eric, right?" A female's voice pulled him from his thoughts. Eric blinked and stared into the eyes of Adrian's widow, Gina. Adrian spoke so much about her during their two years of friendship, but Eric never met her until now. Her auburn hair fell loosely down her back, and she kept threading her index finger through it as she studied him.

  "Yeah." His voice came out hoarse. He cleared his throat before talking again. "I'm sorry for your loss. I know you'll hear it a lot. Adrian was a good man."

  Gina closed her eyes as a tear slid down her cheek. It glistened in the light. "Yeah. He had a lot of problems, but he was getting better. He spoke a lot about you. You umm, were with him that night?"

  Eric nodded. The memory of begging his friend to hold on stayed with him, day and night. "I tried to talk him out of it. I had no idea of his plans at first."

  She twisted a knot with the extra fabric on her black dress, avoiding eye contact. "He always was too damn impulsive." Her tone was bitter. "The police think it's a stray bullet. They don't believe it was intentional. "

  He was at a loss for what to say. There was no easy fix. Hell, there was no fix at all. You couldn't just turn back time or bring someone back from the dead. That shit only happened in movies. Pure freaking fiction. "He asked me to make sure you two would be okay." Okay, lame. Totally stupid thing to say. And he didn't think it was a stray bullet, but he hadn't seen anyone either. Just shadows. Some yelling. Then the shot rang out.

  The police spoke to him that night. At first, they had their suspicions about him, but realized quickly it couldn't have been Eric. It sure as hell wasn't a stray bullet, but they had nothing else to go on, either. He couldn't even explain the full reason they were out that night. He only knew the little Adrian had decided to let him in on, which wasn't much.

  Her gaze snapped to his face. Fury leaped into her already tormented blue eyes. "Oh he did, huh? If he wanted us to be okay, he shouldn't have-" She shook her head. "I'm sorry. I'm making a total spectacle."

  He couldn't blame her.

  "Mommy?" A little boy's tear-filled voice came from behind Eric. He took a step back and watched as the sandy blond-haired boy flew into his mother's arm.

  What if this child was Ben? What if he hadn't made so many damn mistakes and had a good relationship with his son? Now he couldn't even call Ben his boy, because he'd done what everyone thought was the right thing and gave up his rights so Cheyenne's new husband could adopt him.

  "All these people say Daddy's not coming home." The boy clutched his mother's dress and cried.

  Eric shoved his hand in his pocket. He shouldn't be here. He'd said what he needed to, right? Wasn't it enough? Maybe it was time to go.

  Anger reflected in the woman's eyes, then turned to sadness. "He's not, buddy. Daddy's with the angels now."

  "Didn't he love us enough to stay?"

  Those gut-wrenching words ate away at Eric's heart. Is this what Ben had asked when he was younger? Did Cheyenne have to explain to Ben why he hadn't been there for them? He couldn't stop thinking about Ben these days. Or Desiree and Kinley.

  His kids. The ones he'd screwed up with. Two of them he had no claim to any more.

  "Your dad loved you a whole lot." Eric crouched down before Adrian's son, not sure he should be talking to him right now. There were no magic words of wisdom, especially from him, that would fill the void in this child's heart. "He told me so. Sometimes, people make wrong choices, never knowing." So true. What the little boy didn't know, and never would know, was that Eric spoke from experience.

  The boy's eyes widened as he stared back at Eric with interest. "He started to play with me lately. Now he doesn't get to any more." Those tears, each and every one, dug right under Eric's skin, reminding him of his own stupid mess ups.

  At least he had a chance to try and make it right. Adrian lost that chance.

  "Tell you what. If you need someone to talk to, call me. I cared a lot about your dad. He was my friend." Wow, he'd never expected those words to come from his mouth, and it was too late to take them back now. Still, he didn't know what he'd say if the kid took him up on the offer.

  Adrian's wife gave him a look that said "Don't disappoint my child. He's had enough of that lately."

  "You too. Adrian would want me to be there for you." Yeah, he'd asked him to. Eric had promised, never really believing Adrian wouldn't make it. Now here he was, delivering on that promise, even though he didn't know the first thing about how to heal someone's pain.

  Including his own.

  "Really?" The curious gaze the boy sent him once again reminded him of Ben.

  He had to get the hell out of here. This was too much. Instead, he stayed in the crouched position and stiffened when the boy ran to him and gave him a hug.

  "Really," he promised, hoping like hell if the kid actually called, he could keep it.

  *****

  For the tenth time, Petra Cavannaugh checked to make sure she had everything. Diaper bag with extra pull ups and clothes- check. Kinley's ice skates and tiny helmet that she insisted on wearing, and for good reason- check. Her own ice skates- check. Her sanity- Uh, scratch that. Sanity ran out the door years ago.

  Ugh, why was she in such a manic phase again? She'd had it all here the first time!

  "Mommy, wets go!" Kinley insisted.

  "I'm almost done." Petra grabbed some crackers for a snack and dropped the baggie in the already overfilled diaper bag.

  Tonight, she'd been invited to go skating at Caitlin Aimes' skating rink, along with Cheyenne, Jacob, their three kids, plus Caitlin's brother Jonas and his fiancée, Robin. She thought Jacob's brother-in-law and his kids would be there too, but she wasn't sure. The last couple of years, she'd become decent friends with them. Maybe it was finally leaving Eric after what he did to Jonas in their house that night. Who knows.

  While she was looking forward to it, she'd also give anything to get a little rest. Her feet were killing her. It had been another long, drawn out day at the office, and even though the Christmas season was barely upon them, she was already sick of
it.

  Christmas just didn't have the same meaning it used to. Not for her, anyway.

  "Got skates! Wets go!" Kinley held them up proudly, her eyes full of excitement. "Wanna pway with Desi!"

  She'd go for her daughter. Kinley had become best buddies with Desiree, Cheyenne's almost four year old daughter. The kids were close in age and they'd developed a bond, other than being half sisters.

  "All right. Let's go." Petra plastered a fake smile, ignoring the ache in her bones. Maybe she'd stop and pick up a coffee to get a little wake up call, even though she'd probably be up half the night afterwards. She tossed her blonde waves behind her, grabbed the bag and helmet, then headed for the door. Just as she opened it, a shadow appeared on the doorstep. "Ahh!" Petra shrieked.

  "It's just me!" Eric, her ex-boyfriend and Kinley's father, stepped into the light.

  "Eric? What are you doing here?" This wasn't one of his nights with Kinley, was it? She'd double checked the schedule for the week and there were no visitations for tonight. So why was he here? Please, let's not have any anger fits. He'd been doing so well. What changed? The only time he'd shown up at her doorstep so late was to create a ruckus.

  "Daddy?" Kinley hid behind Petra, holding her leg.

  "I umm..." Eric started.

  "You what? I'm a little late, Eric." She didn't have time for any of this tonight. Though she had to admit, lately he'd been somewhat decent.

  He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "My only good friend was buried today, and then I talked to his widow and young son. It got me thinking about my own family. I just needed to see you. I'm not trying to start anything." He held up his hands in defeat as he took a step back.

  Petra's stance softened. Hearing the pain in Eric's voice stopped her in her tracks. He wasn't one to show his emotions other than anger, so this really shook him up.

  "We gonna skate!" Kinley said, displaying her skates proudly.

  A look of- longing?- or something to that affect flashed in his eyes. "Oh, you have plans. Of course you do." He nodded. "Sorry to bother you."

  "Caitlin invited us all to go," Petra affirmed. "You want to come with?" Hell, why did she just invite her ex-boyfriend, Cheyenne's ex-husband, and the man who'd caused so much drama in their lives to go skating with them?

  He is still Kinley's father.

  There was one kid he hadn't fully given up.

  "Right, because that's a good idea. There's a whole line of people who'd be ready to punch me, and as much as it may be hard to believe, I don't want to cause any problems." Eric adjusted the cap on his head.

  Petra put her hand on the doorknob as she leaned forward. "Eric, are you okay?" What kind of question was that? He didn't seem okay at all. He almost seemed ... vulnerable. Sad. So unlike him.

  "Not really," he muttered. "I've been doing a lot of thinking. I hate thinking about the past."

  Her heart went out to him. Kinley pulled on her jacket again. "Wet's go, Mama!"

  "Just come with us, Eric. We'll talk along the way, if you want. I'm sorry about your friend." If only she'd known these things, but Eric wasn't one to open up. Never had been, which was why they weren't together any more and dealing with supervised visits with his daughter. Only recently had he been able to visit without anyone else there, other than herself.

  There was something about him tonight that changed things. The wariness surrounding her heart lowered and she just wanted to understand his pain.

  He hesitated. "You sure?"

  "If there's a problem, we'll leave." She was sure there might be. "Or we can skip it, but Kinley really wants to go." Maybe she should call Cheyenne and ask her. Was it rude to bring Eric to an event like this? It was public. They weren't all walking on eggshells around him lately, but this was a bold move.

  The look in Eric's eyes haunted her though.

  Jacob, Cheyenne's husband, wasn't fond of Eric. Then there was Ben, Desi, and of course Jonas to consider.

  "Eric, give me a second," Petra pleaded, still feeling torn. "Kinley, let's go back inside for a minute. You too." She gestured for him to come inside. Then she grabbed her cell phone and dialed Cheyenne's number.

  What in the world was she thinking?

  Chapter Two

  Eric followed behind Petra, still shocked that first off, she'd invited him to come along, and second, that Cheyenne and Jacob were willing to allow it. The skating rink was public even though Jonas' sister owned the place, and they could have easily refused.

  They'd agreed it was okay to bring him. That was something he'd never expected.

  Ben would be there. Desi would be there.

  Jacob would be there. The man who'd become so important in Ben and Desiree's lives. The perfect father figure. Something Eric didn't have and didn't know how to be. Out there in the world tonight was another little boy who'd lost his father figure and it tormented the hell out of Eric's mind.

  He hadn't heard all of Petra's conversation with Cheyenne. Just what did she tell them? How did she get them to agree it was okay to invite him?

  Man, he kept overthinking this shit. Good thing no one was a mind reader. They did not need to know what was going on inside his head right now.

  Ben was already on the ice. Eric stopped cold, marveling at how much he'd grown. At only nine, Ben was much taller than he'd expected. When he turned and waved at someone, Ben noticed Eric and almost stumbled. His eyes narrowed suspiciously and a frown replaced his smile.

  He looked more and more like Eric every damn day. Good grief, he hadn't expected this. It had been months since he'd last seen Ben and it was only for a second. Eric didn't associate much with them lately, not since he'd given up his rights to Ben to give a better man a chance to be what he couldn't.

  Someone cleared their throat behind him. Eric spun around to find Jacob standing behind him. "I'm sorry for your loss. Petra told Cheyenne you had to bury a good friend today."

  Eric was taken aback. He didn't expect sympathy from a man who hated his guts. Then again, thinking about it, Jacob went through this a few years ago. His sister died close to Christmas. "Thank you," he managed to reply.

  Jacob continued to study him. What was the man thinking right about now? Was he waiting for Eric to cause a stir? "So, I see you don't have a pair of skates of your own. You plan on getting out on that ice?"

  A polite conversation with Jacob Winston? Unheard of. But it was nice. Weird, but nice.

  "I'd probably end up with some broken bones," Eric admitted. His lack of coordination on ice would be laugh-worthy.

  Jacob shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. I've heard stories about Jonas' skating, and he's almost good at it now." He jerked his head in the direction of Jonas and Robin, skating hand in hand. Robin used to be the caretaker for Ben and Desiree. Eric never really got to know her. When Cheyenne went to work a few years after Ben was born, she'd met Robin and they connected. She didn't take care of the kids now, but she and Cheyenne were like sisters.

  "Why are you being so nice to me?" Eric blurted. Way to go, idiot!

  Jacob's brows raised. "Would you rather I not?" He didn't even seem fazed by the question. This guy puzzled the hell out of him.

  "Figured I'd be part of the wall decoration by now."

  "Even if I wanted to kick your ass, there's plenty of young impressionable kids around." Jacob leaned closer. "Besides, you really have been trying lately, and it hasn't gone unnoticed."

  Eric grunted and said nothing, but he took Jacob's words to heart. He had been trying to at least keep the peace with everyone. No more late night visits while drunk, no more yelling and stupid crap. On the inside, his feelings were still confusing, but at least he hadn't been pissing anyone off lately. He should probably respond. "Thanks for that."

  "You're welcome." Jacob gestured. "Show us what you've got." He winked and walked away. Eric watched him head toward Cheyenne, who wriggled with their nearly one year old son in her arms. She looked happy.

  He'd never been able to provide her that ha
ppiness.

  "You should see Kinley on the ice. She's pretty good." Petra moved to sit beside him. Had she been standing there the entire time, listening to his conversation with Jacob?

  Eric tore his gaze away from Cheyenne and Jacob. "She seemed pretty excited to come here." His daughter sat on the bench, swinging her feet back and forth. The blade on the ice skates shimmered in the light.

  "We've been out here a few times already this year. You want to get out there, or just watch? I bet she'd have a blast if you got on the ice with her." Petra studied him. Her gaze was inquisitive.

  Despite the hell he'd put her through, she'd also been decent to him the past two years. Tonight, even more so. Did everyone see through him and just how much Adrian's death affected him? He wasn't used to everyone's caring words.

  "I might." Eric considered it. The last time he went ice skating was ... uh, probably never. He couldn't even recall a time in his childhood.

  Petra shrugged. "Suit yourself." She picked Kinley up and carried her to the ice before setting her down. Then she slid her feet into her own skates and darted after her.

  Eric leaned forward and watched everyone.

  They were all so damn happy. They had each other, had their families, and were complete.

  He shook his head. What the hell am I thinking about all this for?

  "Why are you here?"

  Eric focused his attention on Ben. He leaned against the railing, shooting him with a questionable stare. He didn't appear to be happy about him being here.

  Why the hell did that hurt so much?

  "Just watching everyone." What a crappy reply. But what else could he say to this nine year old boy? Ben knew he wasn't one to just come to these events. He'd never done it before.

  "Why?"

  Maybe Ben worried he'd pull another angry stunt. Can't blame the kid. It's what he'd done for years, coming by Cheyenne's to see Ben late at night when he was drunk and didn't know what he was doing.

  Even sober, half the time he didn't know what he was doing.