“Like this?” he asked aloud, concentrating and still getting it horribly wrong.
Emotion pulsed in my chest, lost to the adorableness of it all. The man, who was larger than life and seemed as if he could accomplish anything, couldn’t seem to manage to get his fingers to cooperate.
Evan rapidly shook his head and reached out and tried to move Kale’s hand into the correct position.
Like that, Evan mouthed.
Kale’s hand curled into some kind of deformed ball as he struggled to keep the position. “Got it!”
I bit back my amusement at his fumbling because he so didn’t have it. Honestly, it seemed downright absurd, considering I knew firsthand the type of magic those fingers could evoke.
Evan laughed that scraping sound. I could feel the echo of it ripple across the wooden floor. Joy and life. Vigorously, Evan shook his head while he leaned over to write on his notepad, all too eager to hold it up for Kale to see.
Dr. Bryant, you’re not even close.
“What?” Kale defended playfully. He sent me a roguish wink that made my tummy tumble before he let his expression wind into a goofy face that he directed at my son. “What are you talking about? That was perfect. I mean, how hard can making an ‘A’ be?”
Evan wrote some more.
Too hard for you!
In mock horror, Kale’s mouth dropped open. “Hey, I thought you told me the first time I met you that you were going to let me try to keep up with you?”
Evan’s little hand flew across the page.
I said you could TRY to keep up with me.
“And you think you’re too fast for me?”
A downpour of love flooded me as I watched Kale interact with my child. These overpowering, stunning emotions hitting me from every side.
They were feelings that were foreign, though, I intrinsically knew I’d been missing them all along.
Emphatically, Evan nodded, grinning big enough to fill the room.
“Oh, little man, you better run, because I’m about to show you just how fast I am,” Kale warned.
Evan’s eyes widened in both surprise and delight, and he scrambled to his feet at the same second Kale leapt to his. Evan darted across the living room and Kale was hot on his heels.
Always just missing him as they zigzagged and weaved.
Evan’s sock covered feet slid on the slick floor as he rounded the island in the kitchen and came running back for me, arms thrown above his head and face tipped toward the ceiling, silent laughter pouring free.
I stretched my arms out for Evan. “Hurry, Evan. Mom’s home base!” I called.
Right before Evan made it to me, Kale scooped him up from behind and tossed Evan onto his back, galloping around the room with him, Kale’s deep laughter ricocheting against the walls.
Both of them were smiling these smiles that blasted through me.
So wide.
So happy.
So right.
I pressed my palm over my mouth. Overcome. Because I’d had no idea I’d wanted this so much.
No true idea how much I’d been lacking until Kale had filled that vacant place. I had to wonder how much my son had been lacking, too. I’d spent years trying to compensate. To fill all the holes Dane’s rejection had to have carved into his innocent spirit.
Suddenly, I hungered for it, this feeling of completeness that took me over and set me free when Kale looked at me that certain way.
As if I were his everything and he would always crave more.
Added and multiplied to that was the way he treated my son.
Accepting his disability and still acting as if it weren’t there to begin with.
Adoring him in spite of it.
Loving him because of it.
Love.
Is that what shone when Kale grinned up at my son, holding him in the security of his arms and still allowing him to fly?
“Got you,” Kale sang.
Evan kicked and flailed and laughed before Kale settled him on his feet and ruffled his fingers through my son’s mess of red, red hair.
Somehow, I understood exactly the way Kale felt in that moment. Evan was eight, yet still so vulnerable. I always had this incredible urge to pick him up and hold him. Protect him forever and never allow anything to happen to him.
I could see the exact same feeling written all over Kale’s face.
Evan began to frantically sign, hands flying in front of him.
Kale looked over at me for help, and a shiver raked across my flesh when the power of his gaze landed on me.
“He said you’re stronger than Superman,” I told him, trying to keep the needy tremor from my voice.
Kale chuckled and looked back at Evan. “Superman, huh? My goddaughter, Frankie Leigh, would argue with you. She insists I’m Captain America.”
Evan signed again.
“He wants to know who she is,” I said, emotion tightening my throat.
Kale widened his eyes in emphasis. “Wonder Woman, of course.”
Evan grinned, his own eyes going wide with excitement. This conversation had definitely taken a turn down Evan alley.