My blood ran cold. “It’s okay,” she murmured in a singsong voice. “Mommy’s here. It’s okay, baby, it’s okay.” She rocked the toddler back and forth her in arms, cooing and clucking. She straightened up and looked at me. Her eyes were red and puffy from the tears, but when she spoke, her voice was calm. Strong. “I’m sorry. He hasn’t been sleeping well the last few weeks. I think he knows when I’m upset. Olaf’s anniversary always rattles me.”
“No problem,” I said. She sat on the couch next to me. In between the folds of the blankets, I could see the pink nose of the toddler. A little hand reached out and clung to his mother’s shirt. The fingers were so small. How was it possible that this was a person? How was it possible that I was ever that small and unblemished? I looked down at my own hands. They were scarred, tattooed, and tanned from years on the road. Life had done its work on my skin. This little guy, though, had so much in front of him.
But he’d have to face all that without a father. I couldn’t believe Olaf had meant so much to this woman, had given her a son and been the reason behind her every smile. Only to disappear when they needed him most. Not that it was his fault. But goddamn, a man had to know when he was close to the end, didn’t he? Didn’t he know dying would hurt his family so much more than it would hurt him?
“He’s getting so big,” I said. “How old is he now?”
“Two and a half,” she said.
“I guess he’s not a baby anymore, then, is he?”
“Not really. Growing up so quickly. Look,” she said, pushing the blankets away from the child’s face, “hair just like his father.” A shock of dark hair had taken root across the kid’s scalp. She was right; it was thick and curly, just like Olaf’s had been.
“He’ll be a lady-killer for sure,” I said with a sad smile.
“Handsome boy, yes, you are,” she cooed at him. A beeping sound went off in the kitchen. “That’s the oven. Do you mind holding him for a second? It was hell to get him to lie down for his nap, and he sleeps better when he’s next to somebody.”
“I, uh, well—” She didn’t wait for my answer. Instead, she hoisted the boy onto my lap and strode quickly into the kitchen. I sat perfectly still, statute still. God forbid I wake the kid up. I wouldn’t have the first clue about what to do. This was already way beyond my level of childcare expertise, which was more or less nonexistent.
But as I looked down at his face, I felt something sag in my chest. No one in the world had the right to look that peaceful. Didn’t this kid know his dad was dead? Didn’t he know how much his mom was struggling? Maybe when he was awake, he did. But for right now, he was Zen, as unlined and innocent as the day he was born. My heart went out to him. He didn’t realize yet how hard life could be.
A thought came shooting across my mind: Fuck Olaf. He caused this. He set up this beautiful woman for a lifetime of misery, and he condemned her son to the exact same shit. I could have felt sorry for him—he was dead, after all, and we were no closer to finding the killers than we had been the day it happened—but no, fuck him. Fuck any man who told a woman he loved her, who gave her a baby, then went out and risked his life the way he did.
I looked down at the face of the kid in my arms and made myself a promise. I’d never do to someone what Olaf did to Dina and her son. I’d stay far away. This life of mine was too risky as it was. I had no right bringing someone else into the mix. I was willing to gamble with my own skin. But not that of others. Not the skin of those I loved. How could I? This child’s skin was so smooth and perfect. I refused to be the one to inject it with my dark ink.
“I gotta go, D,” I said as soon as she returned.
“I understand,” she replied. She crossed the room and scooped up the child from my lap.
“If you need anything…” I began, but she just shook her head.
“We’ll be fine.”
“I’m going to find out what happened to him, Dina. I promise you.”
Her eyes were clear and her gaze was unwavering as she looked up at me. “I hope you do, Ben. I really hope you do.”
Chapter Eleven
Carmen
“You want some chocolate?” Lori called from the next aisle over.