A little surprised at her manners, I quietly murmur, “Sure.”
Gia follows her without question, leaving me alone with the two boys. Gunner huffs, mumbling something under his breath about how the girls always have to use the bathroom together and how “annoying” it is. I don’t have the heart to tell him to get used to it, that they’ll always do it. Eventually he’ll learn that one more second means a minimum of ten minutes. Or that almost done means he can kick back on the couch and finish that episode of The Flash.
I wonder momentarily if Haley is like that, if I’ll ever need to plan our dates out with a good half hour wiggle room, if she’ll be the one more second, almost done type of girl. Or if I—
No. No dates. Haley and I are not dating. We will not date. What the hell is wrong with me? Where did that line of thinking come from? I’m not the dating guy, and I’m certainly not going to date someone who’s quickly becoming a good friend.
No. Nope. Not going to happen.
“Isn’t that your friend?”
I spin around, ignoring the pang of desire for it to be Haley. Knowing that’s the dumbest notion ever—let alone impossible because Gunner most certainly doesn’t know her—I’m not surprised to find Hudson entering the ice cream shop with Joey.
“Ohhh, Graham! Your crush is here!” Gunner taunts.
My eyes flash to Graham in an instant, and I watch as his face flames as red as the vinyl covering the booth and he sinks lower and lower in his seat. He has a crush. I know Joey and Graham know each other from school and from the few times I’ve taken the kids over to Hudson’s, but I had no idea Graham knew Joey enough to like her.
“Uncle G!” Joey shouts, running toward me with her arms open. She slings them around my neck, squeezing tight as she swings herself up on my lap. I hug her back with equal warmth.
My best friend was blessed in the kid department—Joey’s probably the most well behaved seven-year-old I know. We’ve bonded over the years with me having been there since she was just a newborn.
But…truth? She’s been my do-over. I abandoned my family, so I spilled all my warmth and effort into Joey. It’s probably why the kid looks at me like a second father.
Was it wrong of me to walk away from my newborn brother and siblings just to stick it to my parents and Mercy and then throw my efforts into making sure Hudson turned out okay with having a kid at seventeen? Fuck yes, but I’ve never claimed to be a saint.
“Hey, kiddo. What’re you doing here?”
She hooks a thumb over her shoulder. “Dad wanted ice cream.”
I glance up at my best friend to catch him rolling his eyes. “Dad did, huh? Are you sure?”
Joey bounces her head up and down.
“It’s not cool to fib, Joe.”
She whips her face toward her father, her eyes going big and doe-like. “It’s not a fib, Daddy. You wanted ice cream too!”
“Busted!” Gunner hollers.
Since I’ve been getting closer with my siblings lately, any time I have had the chance to take them out unsupervised, we usually end up at Hudson’s. It’s not only because his place is way safer than mine, but because it’s nice to have someone there to help me keep all the rug rats in line.
Hudson clambers into the booth behind ours and proceeds to bring Gunn into a headlock, going on about what a “smartass little turd” he is. I can’t argue with the assessment, so I turn back to Joey, who’s currently staring at Graham with curious eyes.
“Hi, Graham,” she says shyly, a hint of childlike adoration in her sweet voice.
He nods at her, and I notice again how alike we are in our movements. That’s my nod, down to the way his chin is tipped low and the way his eyes barely flutter up to catch a glimpse of who he’s nodding at then immediately focus on whatever is in front of him. He’s the spitting fucking image of me, and I can’t believe I never noticed it before.
Just then Gia and Gillian come out of the bathroom. Joey squeals and runs over to the older girls, excited to see her friends. Unlike most fourteen-year-olds, Gia is attentive to anything and everything Joe has to say. Her patience is inspiring.
Taking in the scene around me—Gunner locked in a car conversation with an equally animated Hudson, Gia and Gillian showing off their nails with a pumped up Joey, and Graham sitting quietly in the middle of all the action with the smallest smirk on his face—I realize then how much I’ve missed out on by giving up my family, what exactly it was I walked away from, the small moments I could have had but didn’t get—all because I was stupid and selfish, because I didn’t have the graceful patience and understanding my little sister holds, or the youthful wonder Gunner has, or even the inner peace Graham finds in moments like this. Hell, even Gillian’s ability to not be a snotty teenager is moving.
It’s astounding.
And I’m a fucking asshat for throwing it all away.
I slump in my chair with the heavy weight of blame, sadness, and hurt. A hefty hand lands on my shoulder. I turn toward the owner, finding Hudson. He gives me a meaningful glance, quietly telling me to not beat myself up and enjoy the moment.
Glancing around again, I decide that’s the best idea right now. I can’t continue to let this moment pass me by. Instead, I need to immerse myself in it.
“What are you guys doing out tonight?” It’s a blanket question, because what he really means is How in the hell did you get Mercy to let you have the kids tonight?
“School program,” I answer.
“No shit?” His eyes flash to an inattentive Joey and a relieved look passes over his face when she doesn’t hear him.
“Yep. First time for me.”
“How’s it going?”
I contemplate telling him what happened with Graham. Maybe he can offer some insight? Give me some advice on how to deal with it? But I know if I was in Graham’s position—and I have been before—I wouldn’t want anyone else knowing what happened. Not that anxiety attacks are something to be embarrassed about, but it’s also not something you want broadcasted all over.
Instead, I give a noncommittal shrug. “It’s good so far.”
“Any troubles?”
“Nah. Everything’s fine. Hopefully that’ll show when I drop them back at Mercy’s. I could really do with spending more time with them. I need it. They need it.”
“You have no idea how far something like an ice cream treat can go with a kid. You were smart to bring them here.”
“It’s not a bribe,” I’m quick to say.
“Not saying it is, man, just that it’s a happy memory. A good one. Something they’ll connect you to, ya know? Kids need that, especially these kids after they’ve lost everyone they love.” Hudson twists his face. “Shit. That sounded bad. I didn’t mean you, I just meant…”
I wave a hand, letting him off the hook, even though it’s true. “It’s cool. I understand what you’re getting at.”
“Do they ever…”
“Ask about them?” An unexpected lump forms in my throat as I think of all the times I’ve overheard them asking Mercy about our parents, the few times they’ve even approached me. It hurts. Eight years later and it still fucking hurts. “Yeah, sometimes. Less often now, but yeah.”
“Damn,” he says with a whistle.
Damn is right. If I wasn’t such a hardheaded jackass, I could have had longer with our parents. I could have opened myself up to them. I could have been a better son. I could have—
Hudson rests his hand on my shoulder again, giving it a gentle squeeze, bringing me back to where I need to be.
The now. I need to sweep aside the thoughts of the past and strictly be in the now whenever the kids are around.
And that’s exactly what I do.
“Thanks for the ice cream,” Gia says quietly as I pull up to my aunt’s house and shift the car into park, leaving it idling since I’m just dropping them off.
“Yeah, no problem. It was good to spend some time with you guys.”
“Can you take us for ice cream again?
” Gunner asks from the back seat.
I twist around to see him smiling brightly and Gillian giving me the same breathtaking grin. “I’d love to, man. I’ll run it by Mercy and we’ll try to set something up.”
“This weekend?” Gillian asks.
“I’ll try my hardest.”
After glancing to Gia, looking for some sort of approval, she smiles wider, pleased with my answer. They begin piling out of the car and I follow, walking around to the passenger side. After an awkward pause, Gia steps forward and gives me a quick hug, so fast that I’ve barely folded my arms around her before she’s pulling away already. Gunner waves and races off toward the house as Gillian reaches in and gives me a sort of one-armed hug. I give one back, a little stunned she did. Usually Gia’s the only who hugs me, but I guess I won them over with the ice cream tonight.
From the corner of my eye I can see Graham hovering, so I glance to Gia, silently asking her for a moment alone with him. She hesitates before nodding, coming in for another quick hug. I watch her retreating back, almost rolling my eyes when she looks back not once, not twice, but three times to ensure everything’s okay.
I mosey my way closer to Graham, who has his hands shoved in his pockets, the earbuds of his headphones hanging out.
“Great job tonight,” I say to him.
He nods.
“It was nice spending some time you guys. I appreciate you talking to me.”
He shrugs.
“Okay, well, I’m gonna take off.”
Another nod.
I take my time walking back around to the driver’s side of my Civic, hoping he’ll say something else. I’m popping the handle on the door when I catch him step forward from my peripheral. I lift my head to find him standing there, his posture stiff.
“Thanks, Gaige.”
It’s quiet and sad, but my entire fucking face lights up, and my heart beats wildly in my chest. It’s like I’m on top of the Empire State Building staring out into the horizon. The world is mine right now and nothing can take that from me. He said my name. He’s never said my name before. I fucking love my name! Tears instantly spring to my eyes. As annoying as they are, I can’t help it. Never before has something so insignificant meant so much.
“Yeah, kid, any time.” I’m so elated, so dazed, I don’t even mind the fact that I’ve said it to his retreating back. I catch the way his head tilts as I respond, so I know he heard.
Grinning like an idiot who just won a hundred bucks on a dollar scratch-off ticket, I climb into my car, pull my phone out, and bring up a text to the one person I want to share my excitement with.
Me: You still awake?
I grin when she responds instantly.
Nikki: This better not be a booty call.
Me: Stop trying to trick me into sleeping with you.
Nikki: As if.
Me: That was so 90s. Looking for any company tonight?
Nikki: Sigh. I guess.
Me: I’ll be there in thirty.
She doesn’t respond, so I step on the gas and head that way.
“What’s got you in such a cheerful mood?”
“What?” I say, crossing over the threshold and into Haley’s apartment, swinging a bag toward her. “Can’t I just smile, be happy, and bring my favorite best friend something delicious?”
Her eyes narrow. “Depends on your motive.”
“No motive,” I say as I continue into the apartment and crash down onto the couch. I hear the crinkle of the bag and listen for the squeal of delight.
I’m not disappointed.
“You’re the best best friend ever! Oh, man! How’d you know these were my favorites?”
“Favorites? Plural? No way, sweetie. One is mine.”
“Good luck prying them from my hands.”
I shoot her a look. “Did you just practically beg me to wrestle you while you’re nearly naked in your pajamas? Why do you always have to make things sexual?”
Her cheeks flash red, her mouth gaping open. “I-I did…I did not!”
Winking, I reach for the remote and press the little red Netflix button. I’m feeling feisty tonight. My evening with my siblings couldn’t have gone better, and now all I want to do is tease Haley, watch American Horror Story, and eat the delicious ice cream I brought over for her. “I know you want me, doll. All you have to do is say the word.”
“You wish!” she calls from the kitchen.
“Grab me a big spoon!” I holler back.
I queue up the next episode, listening as she slams around the kitchen, muttering about how she can’t believe her “best friend” is a total pig. Then she switches over to something I’m so not expecting. She’s lamenting on how poor her sex life has been lately, how she wishes she’d have just picked me up for a one-nighter and called it good.
Hold the phone a minute.
Haley wanted to pick me up for a one-night stand? No. No way. That’s not even close to what happened. How could that have been her intention?
It wasn’t. I heard her wrong. She just wanted company. She said so herself.
I’m still trying to process everything when she plops down next to me, shoving my ice cream into my hands. “Here.”
I glance over at her, noticing for the first time how haphazardly her hair is pushed up into a bun, how short her pajama bottoms are, and that her slouchy silly Disney shirt is so long it covers her ass so it looks like she’s not even wearing the short shorts. With zero makeup on, she truly looks like she gives no fucks about her appearance. And yet, she looks gorgeous. Everything about her is alluring. The fact that she doesn’t just see some young punk kid running amuck and causing trouble when she looks at me makes her even more desirable. She sees me. I like that. I like her.
If I wanted to, I could kiss her right now. I bet she’d turn to putty in my hands. She’d mewl and paw at me, beg me even. I’d start slowly, kissing her at just the right speed, pressing our lips and eventually our tongues together with the perfect amount of pressure. It’d be sensual and intoxicating—and she’d love every second of it. I’m not being an egotistical asshat; I’m just a really good fucking kisser, and I know it.
But I can’t. I don’t want to go there. She’s a friend, someone who’s quickly become a good friend. I don’t fuck my good friends.
No matter how tempting they are.
Instead, I settle for an easy grin and tease, “What? No sprinkles?”
She rolls her eyes. “Grow up and press play.”
“You know you love having me around.”
“I’ve known you for like two weeks, Gaige. I don’t hate having you around, but you can’t throw out the L word just yet.”
“But we’re best friends!” I argue.
“Worst best friend ever,” she says flatly.
Nudging her with my elbow, I sink lower into the couch, making myself comfortable, digging into my ice cream and effectively ignoring everything inside that’s screaming against the idea of not kissing her.
It works. It’s still working over an hour later. Ice cream eaten, a blanket thrown over us, and snuggled up together in the most platonic way we can be, we’re still chatting away and frequently pausing to dissect the episodes as we go.
In the last few hours, not once has a smile slipped from my face, something that hasn’t happened in a long time. Too long. It feels…amazing.
I could get used to this.
One Year Later
Do me a favor and imagine your life in the best state possible. Great, right? You’re happy, your friends are happy, your family is happy. Work is good, your vehicles are on the up and up, and even strangers are smiling at you. The sun is shining and each day feels like that first day of summer vacation all over again, that one where you get your first lick of soft serve, where you meet up with all your old and new friends, where you feel absolutely invincible. Nothing can touch you. This is your perfect day.
You have it? Good.
Now wreck it. No, seriously. Take a giant fucking wr
ecking ball and smash it into the ground like it’s that sad, dilapidated eyesore of a house you see hidden out in the woods when you’re driving down back roads. Yeah, we all know the one, that one you’re always curious about, the one you swear a mass murderer used to inhabit—or currently does. The roof is caved in, the shutters are swinging free, and the windows are all busted out. It’s scary and alluring, but it’s so ugly that it needs wrecking.
Wreck your perfect summer vacation day like it’s that house, and wreck it good.
My perfect summer day was Haley. And my wrecking ball?
It was fucking reality.
Everything was amazing, perfect almost.
Then it wasn’t.
Something changed six months ago, and I have no idea what the catalyst was.
Everything in my life has gone to shit. Complete and utter shit. I’ve lost people. I’ve lost my unsupervised visits because just when things were going great with the kids, Gunner broke his collarbone on my watch. So, yeah, all hopes of spending any more time away from Mercy’s with them was squelched.
Oh, and I got into a bar fight with that asshole Benny. A fucking bar fight. Because that makes me look so responsible.
To top it all off, Mercy’s health has been slowly deteriorating. Every day she grows weaker, unable to do simple tasks on her own. It pains me because she leaves a lot of the smaller things to the kids to take care of when I’m not there. They’re too young for those burdens. I wish I could swoop in and save them, take them away from there, but I can’t. Not yet. I have too much to get together before I’m able to do so, and I still have Mercy to go through.
I’m aware I sound like a bratty prick right now, but I don’t care. Nothing is going right. Not even the weather. It’s been raining for days, with not a glimpse of sunshine in the forecast. Everything is bleak.
Just like your life.
I’m sure you’re asking yourself, What about that beautiful green-eyed vixen you’ve spent your nights wrapped around?
And I say, What about her?
She’s the reason everything has gone to shit.
Haley brought the sunshine for my perfect summer day. I apparently forgot to pack the sunblock, because all that’s happened since she left is burn after burn after fucking burn.
Here's to Now Page 10
