by Amy Lane
COOPER closed the door to Sammy’s room, the juice glass in his other hand.
“I thought you would have stayed again,” Tino said softly, coming up the stairs in time to catch him.
“Felicity is going to need a hug good night,” Cooper said. Then, remembering Sammy’s honesty, he added, “And I need another pain pill. I skipped the time for my last one.”
Tino blew out a breath. “And it was a long goddamned day.”
Cooper nodded soberly. “I can’t argue.” He paused for a moment and remembered how helpless he’d felt when Felicity had called him—and how housebound. “Uh, Tino? Is there any way… I mean, I know you’ve all hinted that I’d be taking the kids to school and back and taking care of them after, and I can totally do that, but I think Brandon still has my car.” It wasn’t much of a car—a 1998 Chevy Impala that had been making a mysterious knocking noise since he’d bought it four years ago.
Tino half laughed. “Oh God. Yes. I’m sorry. We can definitely get your car back from Brandon for you. We didn’t mean to glue you to the house. You were just, you know—”
“Hurt. But my ribs are almost healed, and my collarbone is good with a brace. My concussion clock runs out tomorrow. Tonight should be my last pain pill. And Sammy starts his job next week. I’m actually going to, you know, earn my keep.”
Tino grimaced. “Don’t be too excited about that. I’ve done your job before—both paid and under the heading of parenthood. It’s a lot of work.”
Cooper bit his lip. “Honestly? I’d… I’d really like to focus on the kids. Felicity, of course, but….” He couldn’t help the smile as he remembered the chatter between Keenan and Letty and the way his girl just blended in with them and made herself a part of their dynamic. “But the kids. I’m looking forward to it. I just sort of need, you know, an orientation.”
“Of course.” Tino moved up to the landing and squeezed his good shoulder—gently. “Sammy doesn’t have classes on Friday. I’ll have him show you around. And tomorrow, if you remind me, I’ll show you where we keep the keys.” He hesitated. “I, uh, understand your car has some, uh, problems. You’ll need to drive the big family Odyssey. It’s not sexy, but it has a great stereo system and the Bluetooth thing, which is handy. You good with that?”
“Perfect.” Oh yes—it couldn’t have been more perfect. Sammy had promised he was taking care of himself. It was time to see that in action.
THE next morning, Tino took the kids to school, and Cooper got up early to make everybody breakfast.
Everybody except Sammy, who had apparently gotten up even earlier to use the practice rooms at the college. Cooper checked the level on the gallon of juice he’d left in the fridge, saw it hadn’t changed, and scowled as he cracked eggs in the pan.
“What’s the matter, Cooper?” Felicity asked, pulling him out of his funk. “Don’t you like my outfit?”
Sammy’s grandma, Stacy, had stopped by that morning with even more new clothes, and she sat at the kitchen table with her grandchildren, checking Keenan’s homework and assuring Letty that someday she too would know the glory of taking work to school and not just from school.
Cooper looked Felicity over, from her sparkly shoes to her pretty black dress and rainbow socks, and smiled, his eyes burning a little. She’d never complained—not even when her pants crept up over her ankles and her winter coat bound so tightly in the shoulders that she couldn’t button it. But look at her—so happy.
“You’re beautiful,” he said softly. “All of the other kids will think you’re amazing.” Of course, Cooper had thought so all along. He was cooking, so she gave him a careful over-the-back hug and then took the dishes out of the dishwasher and started to set the table.
“See what Felicity is doing, Keenan?” Grandma Stacy said meaningfully. “I think you are perfectly able to help.”
Keenan, unwilling to let his new sister make him look bad, was on the case, and the two of them bickered competitively while Cooper scrambled eggs. He was going to the refrigerator for cheese when Stacy stopped him.
“You look like you swallowed a bug,” she said quietly.
“He forgot his juice,” Cooper muttered. “I know he didn’t do it on purpose. I just… I didn’t know he left so early regularly.”
Stacy frowned. “Has he gone to the doctor? He promised—”
“Yeah,” Cooper said quietly, relieved to have someone in confidence. “Yesterday. He doesn’t want his uncles to know.”
“So?” Stacy asked, her voice urgent. “What did the doctor say?”
“He’s going in for a treatment on Friday.” Cooper shook his head. “I still don’t know what that means, but whether he knows it or not, I’m going with him.”
“It’s a blood transfusion,” Stacy said, her voice flat with suppressed worry. “And he hates them. And your eggs are burning, young man. You get them and I’ll get the cheese.”
Cooper tended to the eggs in the pan and took the cheese gratefully, fighting a burst of temper. “He was going to go alone,” he muttered to himself. “Why would he go alone?”
“To not worry anybody,” Stacy told him quietly, then raised her voice especially for the table. “And speaking of which, did anybody tell you how Tino won over Channing?”
“I know!” Letty said excitedly.
“Everybody knows,” Keenan grumbled, sounding bored.
“I don’t.” Felicity looked from Letty to Stacy, obviously hoping to be let in the loop. “Tell me!”
As Cooper turned toward the table to start dishing up eggs, Stacy sent him a meaningful look. “Channing was working in San Francisco, trying to move his business up here so Sammy wouldn’t have to relocate, so he asked Tino to be the nanny. Tino wanted to talk to him, but Channing got up at five every morning and got home at ten every night. One morning Channing got up to leave for the city, and Tino was up before him, cooking breakfast. And that is when they started falling in love.”
“Yeah, Mom,” Tino said, walking into the kitchen as he was knotting his tie. “That’s what did it. Oatmeal and coffee.”
“It was a good move,” Channing told the family as he followed.
“It was my move,” Stacy said, looking meaningfully at Cooper. “And I’m giving it all to you for free.”
Cooper laughed like he was supposed to—but he also took notes.
“That’s very generous,” he said, and he took her wink for approval.
“Make the most of what life gives you, young man. You only get so many chances.”
He nodded and kept serving eggs, then sat down next to Tino, who was explaining to Felicity that she was now officially part of the seemingly endless round of lessons and sports teams that Keenan and Letty participated in, while she listened with big eyes.
Cooper excused himself to go get a pen, but Channing stopped him. “We’ll have a meeting tomorrow, Coop. Tino has everything mapped out and a schedule and the whole nine yards. We’re going to have to split duty. Tino will come home two days a week because Keenan and Felicity will have one dance class in one location while Letty has another class somewhere else, but don’t worry. Notes—I’m telling you. They’re everything.”
Everybody left shortly, in a flurry of backpacks and the clatter of dishes in the sink, and Cooper remained in the empty kitchen, wondering bemusedly if this was what being with a family was always like. He started cleaning up, and when he was putting the milk back in the fridge he saw the plastic container of juice again.
And planned grimly to reset his alarm.
Life-Giving Elixirs
“YOU really don’t need to be here for this,” Sammy said uncomfortably. He remembered this—the tilting chair, the IV in his arm, the red bag of blood hanging from the rack. “It’s boring as hell. You could go out and get some coffee—here, my treat.”
Cooper was looking around the treatment room, most of which involved cancer patients with the same setup, just no blood in the bag. “It’s not as cheery here as it could be,” he said,
grimacing. “You’d think they’d do this in a solarium, right? Lots of sunshine, some plants—something to make it pleasant.”
Sammy grunted and tried to look anywhere but at the blood being dripped into his body. “I don’t even know why you’re here,” he said, trying not to whine. Cooper had been up before he had the day before, standing in the kitchen in his sweatpants and handing Sammy a travel cup of juice and a bran muffin with grim aplomb. Sammy had taken the food and smiled uncertainly, offering him a peck on the cheek in thanks.
Cooper had accepted the kiss and said, “Take care of yourself, please. I’ll see you tonight.”
And that night Tino had told Sammy about Coop’s grand orientation day. This morning had been the usual riot with the kids, only Cooper had been there to help. And, of course, make him eat. Sammy had tried to tell him he didn’t need to come along for the doctor’s visit, but Cooper had smiled dryly, his eyes guarded as usual, and told him the doctor’s visit was the whole idea.
Sammy really wished Cooper hadn’t chosen to see him here.
“It’s a terrible place,” he said, unable to contain his loathing. “This only takes about half an hour. I can go back to running you around Folsom and Granite Bay as soon as we’re done.”
“I’ll run you,” Cooper said grimly. “And you can just kick back and enjoy the ride. Now drink your juice and relax. I’m not going anywhere.”
Oh, Sammy remembered this from his last year in high school. Usually Tino came with him, but sometimes it was Channing. Either way, they’d talk about sports and music and movies, and Sammy would try hard not to cry.
He really hated this part.
He took a drink of juice and tried to calm down.
“Why do you hate it so much?” Cooper asked softly, taking the insulated cup from him and setting it in the holder.
“It’s like the hallmark of inadequacy,” Sammy told him, closing his eyes. “I’m missing something to be normal. I hate that.”
Cooper’s hand in his was warm and reassuring. “You’re totally normal, Sam,” Cooper said softly. “You just need this to be well.”
Sammy shivered and squeezed his hand. He kept his eyes closed, though, so he didn’t have to see the platelet-stained tubing snaking its way into his vein. “Thanks for coming with me.” He couldn’t grudge the words. Cooper’s hand in his—that was everything right now.
“Anytime, Sam. I mean that.”
Sammy smiled and tightened his grip again and imagined them in a meadow, without any pain or any uncertainty, making love under a clear summer sky.
WHEN they were done, he felt amazing—he always did. More blood, more iron; more iron, more oxygen; more oxygen, more energy. Simple biochemistry—but it did make him feel like dancing through the streets.
“So,” he said excitedly as they were leaving the clinic, “the Palladio is right over there.” He pointed to the open-air mall, fairly pricey but entertaining to walk through. It had rained that morning, but the sunshine searing through the clouds made the damp chill worth it. “We’ve got a couple of hours before we have to pick up kids. Do you want to go shopping? Or we could go to lunch—there’s some great places in Old Town—let me take you to lunch. Or we could see a movie. There’s a movie theater here. What’s out? We could go see something new. Or sometimes they’ve got the old ones, the black-and-white ones, on a special run. What do you feel like doing next?”
Cooper laughed, looking bemused. “Uh, Target,” he said. “Your uncles gave me my first paycheck—apparently for lying around their house eating—and I realized that all my clothes are construction clothes and my tennis shoes are falling apart. If I’m going to be shuttling kids around, it would probably be good if I didn’t look homeless.”
Sammy looked at him like he was brand-new, for the first time taking in his beat-up jeans and steel-toed work boots. Oh. Yes. Real people problems. He felt foolish.
“Target it is,” he said, happy to help. “But let’s go somewhere else for shoes. Someplace you can get real leather.” He nodded, remembering Channing telling him this same thing. “Your feet are everything. You really want them to be comfy.”
Cooper had this expression—one where his eyebrow and the corner of his mouth went up in conjunction. The expression that indicated Sammy had said something showing he had no idea what it was like to want for anything in his life.
“Sometimes we just want them to be covered.”
Sammy huffed in irritation. “Yes, and sometimes people want more for you than that. Now get in the car and I’ll take you to Target.”
Cooper smirked and held up the keys. He’d driven that morning, following Sammy’s navigation, and he now had a comfortable knowledge of the neighborhoods, including the rules of pickup and drop-off. Sammy told him he was a natural. It had taken Sammy months to stop going in the wrong entrance for the morning drop-off.
But now, it appeared, Cooper was in charge.
“Target,” Cooper said, looking smug.
“Famous Footwear is right next door,” Sammy told him, feeling smug himself. “And consider it fair return for my morning juice yesterday.”
Cooper’s smirk twisted, and what emerged was the grim, faintly diabolical expression of a very determined man. “I like how you think it was just yesterday,” he said. “How very… naïve.” They approached the Odyssey, a pretty green color instead of silver like three-quarters of the ones on the road. “Now get in. I can see Target from here.”
“Wait,” Sammy said, getting into the car. “Why would you need to get up that early?”
Cooper rolled his eyes and started the car. “God, you’re dense. It’s your stupid family legend. You figure it out.”
Sammy gaped at him, only remembering to get in the car after Cooper hit the ignition.
THEY went out to lunch after Target—Sammy’s treat. He picked a pub in Old Town Folsom, a place with outstanding german fries and bratwurst cooked in beer.
“My treat,” he begged and was surprised when Cooper agreed.
“But you have to eat everything,” he said firmly. “I’m not going to let you pay for your whole meal when you just push it around and look cute. You do need to eat.”
Sammy nodded happily. If treating Cooper was his carrot on a stick, he could climb any mountain, even one made of food.
They chatted animatedly during lunch, and Sammy mined Cooper’s endless cave of old movie knowledge. Rock Hudson, Doris Day, Jack Lemmon, Shirley MacLaine—Cooper had seen every movie known to man.
“Basic cable was my only entertainment once I got out on my own,” he said apologetically. “What do you like to do?”
Sammy winked. “Play music, watch music, attend musicals—but the attending-musicals thing might be up your alley.”
“I’ve never seen a musical live, but I know all the words to Oklahoma!”
Sammy grinned, happy. “Oh! I will have to take you to Sac State! In three weeks they’re doing Pirates of Penzance—it’s classic Gilbert and Sullivan. You’ll love it. I can take you to the Saturday night showing—you can see the campus. It’ll be great!”
“Why the Saturday night one specifically?” Cooper asked, and Sammy could have cursed himself. Try to keep one damned secret….
“I’ve got a study group on Friday night starting next week. It’s sort of late, because, uh, we all have jobs. Anyway, Saturday will work best.” Sammy nodded, hoping Cooper couldn’t see his bullshit.
Cooper’s bullshit detector seemed to be as highly honed as Channing and Tino’s, but the boy was new. He might be able to smell the pile, but he could not yet spot the pile.
“Study group?” he asked.
“Yes, it’s sort of a performance critique thing,” Sammy embellished. He cut into his bratwurst and took a bite, because that seemed to distract Cooper. “Anyway, I want you to see the campus.”
“Why?” Cooper asked suspiciously. “What’s so great about a college campus?”
Sammy gaped at him, surprised. “Because… because
learning goes on there. And because you could go someday. Don’t you want Felicity to see you graduate from college? Won’t that make her feel like she can go?”
Cooper’s hazel eyes couldn’t get any narrower. “What makes you think I can graduate? I told you before, my grades weren’t anything special, Sam—”
“But that was high school! You didn’t think you had a chance, so you never aimed. Folsom Junior College is right down the way from here, Cooper. It’s, like, five miles at the most. Think about it. You could drop the kids off, go to school, pick them up, do homework with them. You could do something completely different with your life—”
“But… but money!” he said, honestly surprised.
“Well, you’ve got room and board at my house, and you don’t have to spend all your money on Felicity anymore—she’s Channing and Tino’s. Why not spend some money on your education so when Letty outgrows a nanny, you can go do anything you want?”
Cooper sat there, his eyes enormous, a giant piece of bratwurst on the end of his fork.
“Cooper? Coop? Are you okay? We have to be at the school in half an hour. We need to get the check and motor.”
“College?” Cooper asked numbly. “College? What could I be?”
And Sammy saw it then—the vast sky that so dazzled Cooper he could hardly form the words. “Anything you want, Cooper.” Sammy smiled and brushed his knee gently under the table. “But you may want to think about it a little. Wait until you can brain words, okay?”
“What?”
Sammy loved saying this—oh, he really did. “Eat, Cooper. Just eat.”
Cooper rolled his eyes then and popped the sausage in his mouth, proving to Sammy that he really would recover. They concentrated on their food for a couple of minutes before they paid the check and took off to finish their day, but Sammy felt sort of a glow in his chest, the opposite of what he’d felt when Coop had been mad and he couldn’t breathe.
It was pride. If nothing else came of this moment, this relationship, he’d given Cooper something to dream about. The idea staggered him. It felt like the most important thing he’d ever done.
