crying, Tina clung to Dave's hand on the arm of her chair. She took a tissue Essie slipped her, dabbing at her eyes while Dave tried to explain. "You see our two sons. Ford is our oldest at twenty-two, and Colt here is our baby at seventeen. The thing is, we had a third son in between. Had he survived, he would’ve been twenty-one next month."
Gasping, Charlie clutched his chest. "I’m twenty-one, and my birthday is next month. On the thirteenth, which is ironic for reasons you don't know yet. I'm sorry to interrupt. Please tell me the rest."
Dave grimaced, lifting a hand to point at the stork-bite birthmark on his forehead, then pointing at the similar ones on Ford, Colt, and Charlie. "This runs in my family. And those unique eyes of yours, Charlie, that's Tina all over."
When Charlie started shaking, I quietly lifted him onto my lap, cradling him sideways so he could see everyone while absorbing comfort from my touch. After a moment of silence, I nodded to Dave. "And you think Charlie might be your lost son?"
“I don’t know what to think.” Puffing his cheeks out, Dave sputtered a loud breath of exasperation. "We had no reason to think he was missing. You have to understand, with no pack healer or doctor, we've always depended on traveling medical help. Back then, an obstetrician helped any packs in need. He and his nurse would come throughout the pregnancy and then stay with us for a few weeks leading up to the delivery."
"I see. And these people, they delivered each of your sons?" I felt like we were getting close to an answer, but we needed to dig.
Dave shook his head. "No, Dr. J delivered Ford and Jamison—our lost baby—but we never saw him again. I don't know if he'd moved on by the time Colt came around, but we couldn't find him. Which was fine with me because I didn't think Tina needed the reminder of our loss."
All this talk of loss but no direct answers was making me twitchy. "Dave, let me cut to the chase here. What happened to Jamison? I need to know details." I hated to be blunt, but beating around the bush wasn't going to get us anywhere.
This time, Tina spoke. "Jamison came two weeks early, during a bad storm. Dave was out of town, filling a supply order to a restaurant in Los Angeles because our regular driver had the flu. Alpha asked Dave to go, but I don't remember why."
"You’re right. I'd forgotten why I was gone." Dave shrugged it off. "There weren't many of us with a Class A license back then. Since I was about to take a month leave to be with the new baby, and Jimbo had the flu, Alpha asked if I'd make the run to give the other guy a free weekend before things got crazy. Then a surprise storm hit, and the truck broke down on the side of the 15 outside of Los Angeles, so naturally, Tina went into labor. I fought like hell to get home, but it was over by the time I did."
Maintaining her white-knuckled grip on his hand, Tina slowly nodded along. "The labor was fast—all of mine were. But that time, there was no sound of a baby crying. Dr. J and the nurse took a quick look at my son, and she wrapped a blanket around him and went rushing out the door. When I asked what was wrong, Dr. J told me he'd been stillborn. It happened so fast, and then…" She paused to collect herself. "And then, they wouldn't let me see him. Dr. J told me the nurse would clean him and bring him back in, and I was to rest in the meantime."
Running my hand along Charlie's back, I don't know if I was soothing him or myself, but we both needed it to make it through this awful story. "I see. So what happened next?"
"Dr. J delivered the afterbirth and bagged it, but she hadn't returned. He lifted the garbage bag filled with, you know, the mess from delivery. The last thing he said was he was going to take the garbage out and find what was holding the nurse up. He told me to close my eyes while I waited. The next thing I knew, I woke up to Dave gently shaking me and asking to see the baby. The doctor and nurse had left and took our son’s remains