Grissom (In the Company of Snipers #26)

Chapter Twenty-Two

“It’s so pretty!” Luke squealed, clapping. His eyes filled with excitement at the imminent lighting of thousands of multi-colored lights now strung on the ten-foot noble pine Tuesday insisted was the perfect tree.

It was Christmas Eve and the four of them were in the loft, its ceiling high enough to accommodate Tuesday’s tree. The lady in question sat cross-legged on the floor, her eyes lifted to what would soon, hopefully, be the bright golden star Grissom was installing on the damned tip of this big damned tall tree. Why he hadn’t wired that star on top of the tree before he’d stood the damned thing in its stand was beyond him.

‘ Memo to self: Don’t forget to do that first next year, dumbass!’ Which he immediately revised to, ‘ Don’t forget to wire the star on before you stand the tree up next year, buddy.’ Not dumbass. Never again would he demean himself, just because his mother did. What she’d done to him was wrong. He refused to let her legacy live.

Little by little, forcing himself to recognize his mother’s snarky programming when it popped up like it just did, Grissom was rewriting his childhood history. And it was working, just like his counselor said it would. He just had to keep at it, the same way he often reminded Tanner to do the same, to combat Pam’s toxic mothering. The McCoy boys were all works in progress, but it was a job worth doing and doing well.

“A little to the left, honey,” Tuesday advised sweetly from below. “Not too far. Just a titch more—”

“Perfect! You did it! You done really good, Dad! It’s beautiful!” And there was Tanner, offering encouragement and praise, another lesson in overcoming toxic mothering.

“Yeah!” Luke yelled, as if his father were on top of the Himalayas, instead of on the twenty-foot ladder in the same room.

“Inside voices,” he reminded his rowdy boys.

“Let’s sing something!” Luke yelled again.

“Would it be okay if I put the ladder away first, maybe climbed down before we start singing Christmas carols?”

“Well, a’course, Dad,” Tanner chuffed. “Everyone knows you hafta get off a ladder before you can put it away.”

Sarcasm? That was new.

“Duh,” Luke chirped cheekily.

“Smart ankles,” Grissom growled as he climbed down backward.

“Lights. Action. Camera,” Tuesday said as—click. She pressed the master switch on the surge suppressor and turned on all those lights.

“Oh, wow. Miss Tuesday, look. It’s so pretty! I wub it!” Luke again, still clapping, his screaming, childish exuberance a thing of noisy beauty. Made a tough guy’s eyes water, seeing his boys excited over a damned tree. Not what Grissom needed as he levered the ladder’s legs back to release the tension on the spreaders, keeping it from folding.

“Be back in a minute,” he muttered, his voice husky, the ladder now collapsed and balanced on his shoulder, on its way back down to the garage.

“Hold up. I’ll help,” Tuesday offered, her taut ass already lifting up from the floor.

“No, stay here with my guys. I got this.” Well, kind of. At least, he managed to finagle the extra-long thing through the loft door and down the back stairs without marring the wall board like he did on its way up. Tonight was Christmas Eve and the first ever McCoy Christmas tree was up, lit, and no doubt visible from the dark side of the moon. Maybe from the East Coast, the thing had enough lights. But it was what the boys wanted, and Grissom was making sure they’d have the brightest tree in the world. To hell with Happy Holidays. This year, the McCoys were having the best Merry Christmas ever.

Back in the loft again, he lowered his ass to the floor and sat beside Tuesday. She tipped into his side with a quick kiss on his cheek. He wrapped an arm around her and held on tight. Tanner was sprawled under the tree with Luke, both on their backs, their legs kicked out, and giggling like two little bank robbers, staring up into pine branches.

“I saw him kiss her.” That was Luke, all giggles, shrugs, and whispers too loud for keeping secrets.

“She’s staying here tonight. With us. All night,” Tanner whispered back. “Dad likes her.”

“Me does, too.” Luke giggled, like the mischief-maker he could be. “I like her a lot.”

“I showed her my picture book and she liked it.” It was good to hear Tanner talking about his artwork again. She might not know it, but little by little, Tuesday was pulling him out of his funk.

Would he ever be the carefree toddler he’d been before? Grissom doubted it, and that weighed heavy on his mind. He’d failed the two people he loved most, the ones he should’ve protected. He blamed Pam for the harm she’d caused, sure, but he was responsible, too. He should’ve paid closer attention to what was going on at home when he was gone, and he never should’ve trusted her with the two most precious things in his life in the first place. Never should’ve believed a word out of her lying mouth. Hell, he never should’ve gotten himself into that jam in the first place. Not like he would change those mistakes now, but shit. He was the world’s biggest dumbass for falling into that age-old trap of getting drunk to forget, which had also made him too drunk to remember. Her stealing that used condom was on him, and Grissom refused to deny it. He had no business condemning his dad for not standing up to his mother, either, not when he’d stayed in a loveless marriage as long as he had.

But shit, accepting Ms. Ashlee Peyton’s counsel to let the past go and forgive himself so he could move on, was akin to climbing Mount Everest with a ton of crap strapped to his back. He was no better than a recovering alcoholic, had to talk to himself every day, remind himself that the only things that mattered now were his boys’ happiness and safety. That he couldn’t go back in time and change anything, and the only way forward was by focusing on the future. That children were resilient, and his boys were more prone to follow Ashlee’s advice and good counsel than he was. That he needed to stay positive, open, and never avoid answering Tanner and Luke’s questions. Which so far, hadn’t been difficult. The only difficult question yet to be answered had to do with Pam’s death. Grissom sighed. He dreaded the day Tanner asked what happened to his mother and why she wasn’t ever coming back. Maybe Tuesday could help with that?

Which made sense. The only time he felt like he’d finally crested the summit of all that guilt, was in bed last night with her warmth wrapped around him. Being with her like that had felt like his greatest accomplishment since his sons were born.

Leaning into her, Grissom kissed her temple. They were still in uncharted waters, both of them damaged in their own messed-up ways. But she was no timid damsel in distress. As feminine and beautiful as she was, Tuesday was also a force to be reckoned with. Damned if she hadn’t asserted herself plenty last night. At least, she’d tried.

“You hungry?” he breathed into her ear.

Her shoulders lifted. “For you,” she whispered back.

Tipping to his back, Grissom took Tuesday with him, then rolled until he had her pressed into the carpet.

“The boys,” she whispered, the tree’s lights reflected in her green eyes.

“The boys already know I love you,” he whispered back, then asked louder, “Hey, guys. Do you like Miss Tuesday as much as I do?”

That brought Tanner and Luke scrambling from under the tree and climbing on his back. Luke was laughing, but it was Tanner who declared over his dad’s shoulder, “I love her, Dad. Can we keep her?”

Luke finally made it on top of Tanner’s back, making this a three-layer McCoy sandwich with Tuesday pressed beneath them. “Yeah, Daddy, can we keep her?”

Grissom flexed his arms to keep the additional weight from crushing her. “What say you?” he asked the lady with shimmering green pools for eyes. “May we keep you, at least a while longer, Miss Tuesday Smart? Will you stay with us guys?”

The room stilled as if everyone was holding their breath, well, except for Luke who had a case of giggles. “Say yes, Miss Tuesday!” he yelled like everyone was deaf. “Hurry up! You gotta say yes! Me and Tanner wub you and we want you to stay!”

That kid.

“Inside voice,” Grissom growled.

But Tanner wasn’t breathing, and that was concerning. As much as Luke was jittery with excitement, Tanner had gone stock still.

Grissom studied his most traumatized child. “You okay, Scooter?”

Tanner’s gaze zeroed past Grissom, his hazel eyes riveted on Tuesday. “You said you were gonna stay. Did you change your mind?” he asked quietly, his lower lip quivering.

Damn. Tanner had just made it intensely personal. Now Grissom’s eyes were betraying him.

Reaching past him, Tuesday cupped the trembling boy’s chin, like a real mother who loved her children would. “I’ll stay as long as I can, as long as it’s okay with your dad.”

“It’s okay,” Grissom answered quickly.

“I got a ring!” Jesus, did that boy only know how to yell?

After Luke ran off to who knew where, Tanner whispered, “We don’t need a ring if you say yes, Miss Tuesday. Dad says we only need to love each other and never be mean to each other and… and…”

Tuesday pulled Tanner over Grissom’s shoulder and into her arms. Her eyes welled with tears as she covered his pale face with tiny kisses. “I loved you the second I saw you. You made my heart sing, sweet baby of mine.”

Grissom lay there beside the tender scene, wiping his face with his free hand and so damned proud of the woman holding his firstborn like a treasure instead of a weapon to be used against him. Tanner needed Tuesday in his life as much as Grissom did. He wiped his face again. Damned tears! They kept running down his face. Which didn’t really matter, not as hard as Tanner and Tuesday were crying all over each other. She kept murmuring sweet nothings into his face and hair, her hands smoothing over his head and shoulders, his back, then over his dripping wet face again. And like the selfish, spoiled brat he’d never been in his life, Grissom wanted her hands and every one of her kisses on him.

“I love you, Tanner,” she murmured, her voice soft and sweet and so damned motherly. “I will always love you.”

Grissom lifted an arm over his eyes to hide his tears. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered, hoping he hadn’t sabotaged the day and the rest of his boys’ lives by being so damned emotional and asking that particular question. Tuesday wasn’t ready to move in with him, much less marry him. They’d only met, really met, a couple days ago. They didn’t know each other well enough to commit to each other. What the hell was wrong with him, putting the moves on her like he had? Normal people dated. They courted. They grew together. Over. Time. Significant amounts of time, not just twenty-four or forty-eight hours or however long it’d been.

When would he learn? He’d damned near asked Tuesday to marry him, to spend the rest of her extraordinary life with a loser like him. Did he want her to stay? Absolutely, but he needed to take it slow. To at least give her enough time to understand what she’d be getting into if she stayed more than one or two nights. Not scare the bejesus out of her.

Asking her to stay like he had, in front of his boys, was one for the books—the psycho books. He couldn’t help wondering what his counselor would say about what he’d done. That he had no impulse control? Well, duh. He hadn’t always been this impetuous, had accomplished a string of successful missions while active duty. Had he hit his head so hard in the crash that he could no longer control his big mouth?

Sure seemed like it. Lost in the dismal swamp he’d made of his life, he didn’t see Luke running at him until… Ooomph! His wild child landed square in the middle of his chest with a breathless, “I got it, Daddy!”

Grissom coughed out a grumpy, “Got what?”

Luke pushed a circular, shiny thing into his face. “A ring, Daddy! I got a ring so you and Miss Tuesday can get married now!”

Tanner lifted up from Tuesday’s chest long enough to say, “That ain’t a ring. It’s a nut.”

“It ain’t a nut. You are!” Luke tossed back, defiant to the end.

Tuesday diffused the squabble by singing, “Silent night. Holy night,” which was all it took to get the boys singing along.

Marriage proposal disaster averted. Adding his voice to the age-old song, Grissom reached across the space between them and intertwined his fingers with Tuesday’s. Tanner still hugged her like he’d never let her go, and Luke had settled flat on Grissom’s chest, that shiny silver nut tight between his pudgy fingers.

“Thanks for finding the ring, Short Stack,” he told his youngest quietly.

“It’ll fit. I just know it,” Luke stage-whispered back.

“It might,” Grissom murmured, his lips against Luke’s ear to keep Tuesday from overhearing. Nuts and bolts were made of stainless steel and polymers that, combined, resisted chemicals and corrosion. “But if it doesn’t fit, I know a guy who can make it the right size.”

“You do?” Luke asked with bright-eyed innocence. “Wow. That’s really nice.”

Yes, wow. Grissom clenched Tuesday’s hand tighter as he took the nut from Luke and stuck it in his jeans pocket. Christmas began bright and early tomorrow. His boys didn’t need presents from Santa. Destiny had already provided their hearts’ desires.

Or, like Harley thought, God was behind Tuesday’s sudden reappearance in Grissom’s life. A man could hope.