Page 99 of Loving at 40

Archer’s chuckle is bitter as he runs both hands down his face and leans forward. “He’d asked me earlier if he was going to jail, and I joked not yet. He gave me a cocky smirk.”

Archer takes a deep breath. “When I was within range, I went for it, tackling him. The gun fired as we collided with the table.” He reaches for his forehead, where the bandage remains.

“Did he shoot you?!” I shriek, unable to contain the panic inside me.

Archer shakes his head. “Cut my head on the table taking him down.”

“What about Mindy?” Tricia asks.

“The shot went over her head. I was able to knock the gun free of his grasp.” Archer imitates the chop to Brad’s inner elbow, forcing his arm to buckle and the trajectory of the gun to point upward. “I don’t want to say she’s okay because there’s no doubt it was a scary-as-fuck situation. She’s alive, but traumatized.” Archer holds his gaze on me.

“It’s not a cakewalk having a gun held against you,” Leon mutters, and Archer glances at him. Tricia rubs a hand up her husband’s back, and I’m reminded of the story Archer told me about Leon and their connection. Then my thoughts race to Ryan, and tears I’ve tried to hold back begin to slowly slip down my cheek. Archer’s attention returns to me.

“He’ll need extensive help,” he states, referring to Brad. “I’m sorry I wasn’t a better mentor.”

The room is a cacophony of words as Tricia tries to reassure Archer, and Leon says something along the lines of it not being Archer’s fucking fault.

I have nothing to say other than removing myself from the couch and crawling into his lap despite our audience. My arms wrap around his neck, and I hold the back of his head, pressing him to me.

“None of this is on you. None of it. It was bad timing.” The wrong place at the wrong time, and it hits me all over again that I could have lost Archer in the same manner I lost Ryan. I shudder and hold him tighter, every part of me wanting to climb inside him and never let him leave me.

I don’t hear Tricia and Leon leave, but eventually, Rosie and Talia come down the stairs. I asked them to play in their room while I spoke with Tricia, Leon, and Archer. I didn’t need little ears hearing all that happened although we’ll be having another discussion about guns and safety. The school district will issue a statement not only for the high school students, but for parents with young children, including instructions on how to have conversations with them, especially if they have older siblings in our system.

“Why did he do it?” I whisper to Archer.

“He’s just a messed-up kid. I’d guess homelife or loneliness. Mental health issues, maybe. It could be a combination of things. I’ll be checking in on him tomorrow.”

“You will?” I’m surprised by this but immediately recall his guilt over Viviana.

He feels responsible. He spent thirty minutes with a kid he doesn’t know, and he feels guilty for actions beyond his control. Actions not triggered by his presence but something deep within a troubled young man.

Archer shrugs, and the conversation rests as the girls watch me in his lap. Slowly, I slip off him, and Talia runs to Archer, collapsing into him as his legs spread and he circles her with his large arms. She clings to him, and he glances up at me for a second before nuzzling his face into the crook of her little neck and shoulder and tugging her up to his thigh. Still holding Talia close, he pats his other leg for Rosie, and she scampers over to him, not understanding what’s happened but knowing enough that it’s something serious.

There’s value in hugging a child in times of distress. If nothing else, it makes us grateful for life and gives us hope for the future.

40

[Archer]

“Does it hurt?” Rosie asks, reaching up for the bandage on my head. I needed a few stitches, and I’ve replaced the bloody gauze with a regular adhesive strip. Rosie’s tucked into bed with Talia across from her. I sent Jenna to take a relaxing bath. She needs to get out of her head, and I’ll be working to erase all the worries on her mind in just a little bit.

“Sometimes warriors have battle scars,” I tell her and then swipe at her nose. “But not you. I’m here to always protect you.” I wink at her before sending a reassuring smile to Talia.

“Why can’t you be my dad?” Rosie asks, surprising me.

Talia shifts on her bed. Her hug earlier shocked the shit out of me, but I took it. I’ll take any slice the little ice queen gives me until she’s warmed to me.

“Archer has to marry Mom to be our dad,” Talia explains in all her infinite six-year-old wisdom.

“Will you marry Mommy?” Rosie asks.

“Think I should ask her to marry me?” I ask Rosie, who immediately and adamantly nods her head. I glance over at Talia once again. Her wide eyes watch me. I need her approval as well.

“Can I call you Dad instead of Archer when you marry Mommy?” Rosie asks, drawing my attention back to her, and for some reason, my throat swells. My eyes burn. I swear she blew dust in them. She’s also put the cart before the horse because I have no idea if Jenna would marry me. She hasn’t even said she loves me, but deep down, she does. Or she wants to. She’s just scared, and today’s situation didn’t help.

“I’d like that,” I finally say around the lump clogging my throat. Then I look over at Talia. “But I want you to know I’ll never replace your dad. He’ll always be with you.” I pat my chest, thinking of my own father, who I’d been estranged from for too long, and then missed his funeral. “I’ll love you just as much as he did.” It’s my solemn promise to Talia. I’ll love her no matter how she feels in return. Just as I’ll love Jenna, even if she doesn’t feel quite the same toward me.

“I didn’t know Daddy,” Rosie says. “I just want one.”