by Jayce Ellis
“She’s good,” Deion said, and smiled. “About to go to finals. She says she likes her therapist, and things are getting better with the bullying.”
“She misses you.”
“I miss the hell out of her too.”
“Then Deion?”
“Yeah, Ma?”
“I think you know exactly what you need to do. Let nobody stop you. Including yourself.”
Boy, that was a lot to ask. “Understood, Ma. Understood.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Carlton bundled his coat up and rushed out the house. He’d been trying to be good, be the father Olivia deserved, and made her some grits and scrambled eggs before he left to meet up with Jaq and Lawrence. He couldn’t do omelets like Deion, but Olivia was neck-deep in finals and, if he didn’t do this, she would sit in her room and absolutely not eat all day.
The Metro was quiet on a Saturday morning, the dip in temperature driving folks to stay home and make their own coffee rather than going out. Exactly what he’d be doing, but this was Jaq’s first free weekend in who knew how long, and Carlton didn’t want to miss the opportunity to see him.
He walked to the front of the coffee shop and peered inside even as he pulled the door open. Lawrence and Jaq were already there, in the same spot they’d sat at the last time they’d come, which felt like months ago. Hell, it had been months ago. Jaq waved and Carlton smiled as he walked over to them. “God, I needed this,” he said, shucking off his coat and draping it over the back of a chair. “Let me grab my drink and I’ll be back.”
They nodded and Carlton walked to the counter. He was normally a bore, opting for a regular coffee, but today he was feeling fancy. “Can I get a mocha, with some cinnamon dolce flavoring?” He wasn’t even sure what that was, but he remembered some conversation between Deion and Olivia about its deliciousness, and wanted to know.
“Whipped cream?” the server asked, and Carlton vaguely recognized him as Vance, a guy who’d once eyeballed Lawrence like he was a starving man and Lawrence was his last meal. Before Deion’s visit. His eyes were hard, focused on the cup in front of him.
“Yeah, sure. Whipped cream is great.”
“Coming right up.”
Carlton was quiet until his drink was ready, then gave the guy a hefty tip and walked back to the guys. He sat down and Jaq started in immediately. “You okay, man? Everything all right?”
And that’s when he realized how much Jaq had missed. In part because Carlton and Lawrence had spent so much time together in a pseudo-professional capacity, and in part because Jaq had been balls to the wall involved in his own thing.
“No,” he said, opting for pure honesty. “My niece Olivia showed up to stay with me, and it’s been a bit of a shitstorm since then.”
“Oh damn,” Jaq said, his eyes wide and sympathetic. “I thought she was staying with your parents.”
Carlton glanced at Lawrence, and Lawrence raised his brow almost imperceptibly. Right now, he wasn’t an attorney, wasn’t guiding him and telling him what to do. He was just a friend, and this was Carlton’s story.
“She was. That went to hell, and I’ve been jumping through hoops since. Trying to keep it together for her, make sure Trey’s okay, and get us all moving in the same direction. I’m fucking exhausted.”
And somehow I lost my best friend in the process, he wanted to say, but he couldn’t force the words out his mouth. He sighed, letting the thought fade into oblivion, and forced himself to smile. “I need this coffee more than you can imagine.”
Jaq nodded. “I bet. How long was your boy out here?”
Carlton choked on the sip he’d just taken, and Lawrence pounded him on the back. “You okay?” he asked.
How he managed to nod, he’d never know. “Yeah,” he said to Jaq. “It’s just...it’s complicated.”
Lawrence stared at him for a moment before grunting and going back to his drink, and Jaq looked like he knew there was something Carlton wasn’t telling him. He didn’t argue, though, and Carlton took the opportunity to shift gears. “Anyway, enough about me. What’s good, man? I know you had that launch and all. How’d it go?”
With that, Jaq broke into a grin, then launched into his news. A raise, which kicked ass, and his own romantic issues. God, it felt like they were running on parallel tracks. Jaq talked about his own drama, and how his daughter and Matt’s daughter had broken up, and then he and Matt did the same, and it was truly a whole hot mess. But they talked through it, Carlton trying to inject some sense of levity into the situation.
Lawrence asked a question, which Carlton missed, but Jaq responded with, “No. I like this guy. I enjoy spending time with him.”
Carlton couldn’t help but quip, “Sex was bomb, wasn’t it?”
Jaq nodded, and Carlton felt his heart tighten. Because it had been bomb with Deion too. Always so intense. Always so emotional, like they couldn’t get enough of each other. Like they had all those years to make up for, and they didn’t know how long they’d have to do it, so every time they were together felt like the last one. What would it change, how would it feel, if they knew they had all the time in the world?
Those thoughts rolled through his head even as the guys kept talking, even as he tried to give his friend advice. Hell, one of them should be happy, right?
They broke up an hour or so later, and Jaq dapped them both up before taking off.
“Hey, you good?” Lawrence asked, gentling a hand on his shoulder after Jaq was gone.
“Not even a little bit.”
“I gotta say, you gave an impressive performance back there.”
Carlton smiled, then his eyes darted back to the register, where Vance stared into the back of Lawrence’s head, and Lawrence’s jaw ticked just a fraction as he stood there.
“As impressive a performance as you and Vance are giving?”
To Lawrence’s credit, he didn’t try to play dumb. “We’re not here to talk about me and Vance.”
“We weren’t here to talk about me and Deion either. We talked about Jaq and Matt, and we could leave it there.”
“I’m worried about you,” Lawrence said.
Another glance at Vance, then back to Lawrence. “Looks like I need to be worried about you too.”
He sighed, his shoulders sagging, and he looked away. “It’s complicated.”
“Feels like that’s the theme of our little clique, huh?”
Lawrence laughed. “Sure does.” He sighed and got serious. “Seriously, though, how’re you holding up? You’ve been all business your past few meetings.”
That’d been intentional on Carlton’s part and, if he had to guess, on Lawrence’s as well. They’d been about the formalities, the hoops he had to jump through to have his niece. Which he was excited—thrilled—about. But their little family, the one he’d stitched together on a wing and a prayer, was shattered. And he had no clue how to get it back.
“I’m okay. I want to get through this process, get Olivia better settled, and move on.”
Lawrence squeezed his shoulder again. “I do get it. And I do understand.” He checked his watch. “I gotta get out of here. Gymnastics class starts in an hour.”
“Your weekend with the kids?”
He smiled, a bright one that lit up his face. “My vacation with them starts today. I have ten days.”
“Nice.”
He nodded. “It is. I’ve taken off from work, and we’re going to veg out on the couch for a bit and then probably take a quick trip, so I’ll be seeing you guys in a few weeks, okay?”
“Bet.”
They broke away and Carlton trudged his way back through the salt lining the sidewalks, proof that a storm was coming, and hurried back home.
* * *
Olivia was in the living room when he returned, complete with scarf, earmuffs, and gloves, trying to fasten her
jacket without taking the gloves off. That wasn’t going to work. She looked up at him and cringed. “Hi, Uncle C!”
Well, that rang false, and his heart dropped. Absolutely fell through the floor. He shut the door. “Hey, Ollie,” he said carefully. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” she said, shaking her head too quickly, her voice overly bright.
“You running again?” He didn’t want to believe it, but she clearly hadn’t wanted him to know she was leaving the house. Why else would she be sneaking out like this? No text, call, anything.
Her eyes widened, then she raced over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her face to his chest. “No, Uncle C, no running. I promise.”
He blew out a deep breath and engulfed her in his embrace, sinking into it. “You sure? You’ll talk to me, right? Give me a chance to make it better?”
She pulled back enough to look up at him. “I’m not going anywhere, Uncle Carlton. I just...” She stepped back and stared at the floor. “Uncle D is in town and I really wanted to go see him.” Her voice broke at the end, and he pulled her back in his arms to soothe her, even as his mind whirled.
Deion was here? In DC? Why? For what? For how long? He felt his heartbeat increasing, the need to find out everything he could burning through him. The urge to grill Olivia? Oh, it was strong. But no, he couldn’t do that to her.
He pulled back. “You were afraid I’d be upset if I knew?”
“Not really. But I don’t know what happened, just that you guys broke up, and even though you talked, things weren’t, like, better. And I didn’t want you to be mad at me if you knew I still spoke to him.”
“No,” he said, maybe a little too forcefully, because she winced. “I’m not mad at you. Would never be mad at you. I’m glad you’re going to see him. I’m glad you still have that relationship.”
“You are?”
“Yes.” He sucked in a deep breath. “Where are you meeting?”
“Just the mall.”
“Pentagon City?” At her nod, he went on. “Want me to drive you? I’ll stay out of your way. Hell, I’ll leave if you want.”
“You sure you’re okay with it?”
For the chance to even glimpse Deion again, even if they didn’t speak? He smiled at her. “Of course I’m sure.”
* * *
Olivia had come through for Carlton without even trying. He’d known it when he received a text from Deion an hour or so after he’d picked Olivia up and brought her home.
Deion: I’m in town. Would you like to meet?
He’d fumbled so quickly to respond that it took four tries before he could get the word Dinner to even come up on the autocorrect.
Deion agreed, and they chose a low-key, family-style place. He’d been tempted to press, to wine and dine him at some upscale restaurant that left no doubt as to his feelings, but he hadn’t wanted to come off as pushy. He’d been quite pushy enough the past few weeks.
“You going to try and get him back?” Olivia asked.
“Ollie, I don’t even know if he wants to be back. Not because of you, because I know he’d love to be there for you. But I’m not sure he wants to put up with me again.”
“Why not? You’re amazing, Unc.”
He laughed. “You’re biased.”
“You don’t think Uncle D is too?”
“Maybe once upon a time, but I’m pretty sure the rose is off that bloom.”
She rolled her eyes, like that was the dumbest thing she’d ever heard. “Whatever. I think you guys are making a mountain out of a molehill, and you guys should just accept that you want to be together and get married and adopt a million more babies, but adults are weird like that.”
He laughed again. She was so much like her mom sometimes it was hard to take, and he loved it. He hugged her, then pulled back and cupped her face. “I want my best friend back. That’s what’s most important. Whether anything comes from it at some random point in the future, what’s most important is to know I didn’t lose him.”
Olivia covered his hands with her own and nodded. “I know. I get it. I just wish you guys could be together.”
“Me too, Ollie. Me too.”
He broke away and shrugged on his coat, wrapping his scarf a few times around his neck. “Study hard, kid,” he said, then hurried out the door. This time, he was driving.
He pulled up to the P. F. Chang’s and walked inside. Deion’s locs were like a beacon calling to him, pulled into a half ponytail, the rest of it flowing over his shoulders and down his back. Dear God, he was lovely. Carlton pointed him out to the hostess and walked over, landing a soft hand on his shoulder.
Deion didn’t seem startled, but his smile was tight. “Hey, there.”
Carlton couldn’t bear to let go. “Hey.” He trailed his hand down to grab Deion’s and pulled him off his chair. “Can I get a hug?”
“Always.” The hug was tense, awkward, but Carlton didn’t let go until Deion’s stiff back loosened, and he tugged Carlton tighter.
“Missed you,” Deion whispered.
It nearly broke him. Carlton inhaled deeply, reveling in being so close to his friend again. “Missed you too.”
When they pulled back, Deion smiled again. A genuine one Carlton had feared he’d seen the last of. “Let’s sit. You can catch me up.”
Carlton did just that, waiting for some fruity concoction with lychee to be plunked in front of him before starting.
“How’s the adoption going?” Deion asked before Carlton could say anything. Not that he knew what he’d wanted to say.
He nodded. “Good. I came clean to Evangelyn, and I think things will be okay.”
“Was she mad?”
“Not so much mad as disappointed. You know that ‘we were all rooting for you’ type thing, and you fucked it up,” Carlton said, and Deion chuckled. “She said she’d have to consider that as part of her overall recommendation, but that Olivia wants to be there and I’m doing everything else right. Hopefully that’s enough to make up for it.”
Deion’s grin was soft. Comforting. Carlton hadn’t realized just how deeply he’d missed it. “It will be. You’ve got this.”
He blew out a breath. “I think so. Hope so. Because these finals are no joke and me putting up with her snapping needs to be the start of something permanent.”
Deion laughed, and they talked about inconsequential shit for a while. Carlton relaxed, his posture loosening for the first time since Deion left. How could he live without this? This camaraderie? This companionship? This absolute comfort that he found nowhere else except for when he was talking to his best friend? He wanted more. He wanted it all, but the niggling fear he’d still lose it was never far away. Just a few weeks without speaking to Deion had been enough to rock him to his very core. What would years, decades, be like without him by his side? Carlton couldn’t handle that reality, and that led him to a resolution, one that made his stomach churn.
“You know,” he said, when they came to a natural break in the conversation, “we never did have that discussion.”
Deion snorted, then sighed and sat back. “Yeah. I know.”
Carlton looked down and shook his head. He didn’t want this outcome, but it was the only safe one. He exhaled quickly, a short, sharp, whistling noise, and looked up. “You are my best friend, D. You’re the first person I want to share good news with. The last one I want to give bad news to. You’re not someone I can bear to lose.”
Deion smiled, his eyes soft, and Carlton wished like hell things were different. It was enough to make him waver, but god, he couldn’t go back to the past few weeks. He needed his friend back.
“I can’t risk it,” he said, shaking away the tears that threatened. “I want to, more than you’ll know, but I can’t.”
Deion’s smile never wavered. “I know.”
“You do?”
“Yeah, I do. I’d figured it out when you drunk-dialed me. That what we’ve had for twenty years wasn’t something either of us wanted to lose. And what we could have, what we maybe want to have? Might not be worth the pain it can cause. That it’s already caused.”
He leaned forward and braced his arms on the table. “I pushed you. I pushed you for something I’ve wanted for so long, and I nearly lost you. I can’t stand the thought of losing you any more than you say you can’t bear to lose me. I’m sorry for that.”
Carlton laid a hand over one of Deion’s balled-up fists. “I have to say, I think this is the first time a man has apologized for wanting me.”
Deion’s guffaw rang throughout the restaurant, turning some heads. Carlton stared down the few nasty glares they got, until they went back to their meals. “Assholes,” he muttered.
Deion withdrew his fists and popped him on the back of the hand. “Be nice.”
“They need to mind their own business,” he grumbled.
“We’re good, right? I know you asked that after Thanksgiving, but I need us to say it again, only one drink in. I need to know I didn’t screw up irreparably.”
He nodded, and Deion winked at him, and then acted like everything was okay. Fine, even. He’d wanted one thing. Carlton had been the one who wanted everything, and had wanted it without giving anything in return. The realization hit him like a ton of fucking bricks as their meal was served and they chowed down. Deion smiled and laughed, and Carlton didn’t believe a fucking word of it. He’d done what he’d always done, accept what Carlton offered and wound himself around to make it work. But Carlton could tell, as they finished the main course and ordered dessert, that Deion did still want more. That he did think what they’d had was worth the risk.
