Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 107352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107352 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“Those were good,” Benny assured me with a burp.
“So good,” Griff said with a sigh. “You gotta show me how to make ’em.”
There had been two big pans, and yes, Darwin and Teddy, as well as Tatum and her pals, had made a dent, but one and a half pans were demolished by Benny, Sean, and Griff. It was both impressive and terrifying.
I glanced at Luke as I packed their lunches for the following day.
“You forgot how much food a sixteen-year-old boy can put away.”
I nodded. “I did. Yeah.”
After dinner, Luke volunteered to wash dishes, and I helped him. It didn’t take nearly as much time as I thought it would, as there were no leftovers to put away—all the plates were in the dishwasher and only the empty pans were left.
“This is crazy,” I told him, and he laughed at me.
“Oh, hey, I forgot to tell you—Shelly doesn’t want us at the funeral tomorrow. I feel like a bit of a jerk, but I’m relieved.”
I nodded.
“I wonder what changed her mind.”
“Sleep, most likely,” I answered. “She was wrung out.”
He squinted at me. “You’re quieter than usual. Why?”
I shook my head.
“No. Talk to me.”
But what was I going to say? That waiting for him to figure out what he wanted from me—if anything—was terrifying? That standing in limbo with nothing solid under my feet was making it hard to breathe?
“Nash, I—”
“Have you noticed you say us and our a lot?” I asked, changing the subject. “You said, Shelly doesn’t want us there. Us. Do you know how often you do that?”
“Say us?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t under—”
“Our house. Our alarm system. Our family. You say those words, and if you’re doing it on purpose, that says something. And if you’re not, that also says something.”
He leaned against the counter. “I don’t know what it is, but you…when you hugged me that first day…it was like something changed in that moment. I felt like me again. I haven’t felt that way since Caitlyn left.”
“Why’s that?”
“It was like she took something away from me.”
“Which was?”
“I’ve thought about it a long time, and maybe it was the life I thought I had, how I felt about myself…I dunno. But like, when the kids hugged me, I was reminded of who I was, but we were all…distant. I was losing them, making so many wrong choices where they were concerned, but then you were here when I got home…and it was like I woke up. Like I’d been sleepwalking, and then a switch was flipped and I was alive again.”
“You realize that was time and the changes the kids made, and probably your pain and grief and anger finally subsiding. There was healing going on there.”
“Yeah, maybe,” he agreed, meeting my gaze. “Maybe everything aligned. And maybe it’s simply that you were supposed to be here for the kids and for me, and my life suddenly balanced out because you showed up.”
“You seem so calm about this, but we both know you’re straight, so maybe it really is time to start dating and find a new wife for you and a mother for the kids.”
“No.”
I waited a moment. “What?”
“No,” he repeated.
“Nothing else? Just no?”
He nodded. “I know I touch you all the time, I can’t help it, but I don’t know if you’re aware, you do the same.”
“I do not.”
He chuckled. “You crowd me, you bump me, you lean on me, a lot, and you always sit right next to me.”
“No, you do that to me.”
The throaty laugh was too good a sound. I had to smile.
“This is one of your favorite maneuvers,” he said, and shoulder-checked me gently.
“But you do that too.”
“Then,” he said with a shrug, “I suspect it’s because we want to be closer, to do what we did earlier in your room, but neither of us had the balls to act.”
I scoffed. “Again, you’re straight. There’s only ever been women.”
“And you’re what, gay?”
“Bi, actually. There have been women and men.”
“Okay.” He flipped the dish towel over his shoulder. “And have any of those been long-term commitments?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I was in the Army for a long time and normally deployed in the worst places, seeing horrible things. Then I was a homicide detective in the worst part of the city, seeing horrible things. It’s hard to be a rock for someone else when you’re barely holding your own shit together. And now I’m a fixer, and when I’m at home, I just want things to be easy, and that means my friends, and that’s as deep as I go.”
He crossed his arms and stared at me.
“You need a partner, Luke, and that’s not me.”
“And yet,” he said, grinning.
“And yet what?”
“I dunno, Nash, you’re awfully good at being a partner, taking care of me and the kids.”
I gestured at the living room, where the girls were. “That’s because you have great kids. Anybody could do well with them.”