by Ella James
He gives me a wink, saying that he's just putting on to amuse our new friend here.
"I'm going to leave you guys to baby-sniffing,” I say. “I'll be in touch. Going for a short day even if there's things to do; I’ll be home early."
I waggle my brows at V, who nods once.
He sets baby on Miller's lap and urges the guy to hold onto her sides, just above the hips.
"Just smile at her,” Rayne says. “Make some faces."
Then Vance walks around the couch and wraps both arms around me. "I love you, Papa," he murmurs.
We're both grinning as we pull apart.
"Love you more," I murmur.
"You two be good," I say, half-joking.
“Will do, Papa,” Vance says.
I lean over the couch and touch Eden’s tummy. "Bye, baby."
"Bye, Dad," Rayne says in a baby-sounding voice.
The young guy—Miller—laughs. Because my new husband is lifting his spirits. By letting the kid hold our baby.
Life is crazy.
Vance
It's kind of hard to be around the kid at close-range, knowing what I know about him—but he didn't actually tell me. He told Sky, and while I get that, I sort of wish he'd told me, too, so I could...I don't know. Give him a hug or some shit.
He told Sky he's going to college—that he's already started, several weeks back—but even that's a fact I'm not supposed to know. I put some space between us on the couch and instruct him on what to do with Eden.
"You can raise her hand and do a high-five."
He gives me a look like he thinks I'm insane—but then he does it, and it makes him smile.
"Now, listen. This is the moment. You're gonna lean down and sniff her hair. Just a discreet, polite sniff. Try to make a funny face while doing it, so you won’t scare her. Don't worry, I won't be taking any pictures. Then you let me know if you think she smells like the baby lotion."
I stand over him, wearing a cheesy sort of smile, and the guy looks up at me like I'm the weirdest. "Did you put it on her?" he asks.
"Put what?"
"The pink baby lotion."
"No." I laugh. "That would defeat the purpose. It would confuse her smell. I like the natural baby smell. Not store-bought."
He shoots me another weird look. "Yeah, bro. Okay."
But he leans down and shuts his eyes and sniffs near Eden's forehead. When his eyes open, he's grinning. "Okay, you're right, I guess. She does smell..." He sniffs her again. "It's the baby smell that people talk about. Sort of like lotion, but you said you didn't use that."
"Not a drop.”
"Do you put something on her skin?" He juts a brow up.
I wink. "Scentless oil. Their skin needs a lot of moisture. Kind of weird, like little aliens." I flash Missy a smile. "I'm going to get us some food from the kitchen," I tell Miller. "What do you want? More cookies?"
His lips twitch, but his face has settled back on somber mode as he lifts a shoulder. "Anything is okay." His eyes slide to mine—I'm standing to his side—and they look tired.
"Here's what I think we should do,” I tell him. “I'll bring out a tray of different stuff for you to pick from. Then you'll tell me honestly if you'd rather watch TV, play Nintendo Switch games, get in a hot tub—that'd be by yourself, in a screened-in porch sort of room we just had put in for the privacy. Or if you want to take a nap, get on the internet on a guest laptop... It's up to you. If you weren't here, I'd maybe drive out to another area and take her on a walk like in a baby vest thing. Actually, maybe go walking somewhere like a mall. I’ve got some things I need to buy."
"Another area?" he asks.
"Yeah, so people wouldn't recognize me."
"Does your husband have dark hair?" He frowns, looking puzzled.
"He dyed it last night."
"Why?" he asks.
"I think so people out on the street wouldn't realize he's him,” I tell Miller.
"That's fucked up."
"There's a lot of fucked up shit out there. When you find something good, you've gotta hold onto it with two hands. You know what I mean?"
He swallows and doesn't blink, and I realize that's because his eyes are full of tears. He shuts them, and the tears drop down his cheeks. He covers his face with one hand.
Ah, fuck.
"You want me to get Miss Baby?"
He shakes his head. "You don't have to."
He wraps his big hand around Edey's shoulder, gentle, and he wipes his eyes. God, the poor kid.
"Let me get some food for us. Then you should talk to me. I'm good at listening. I've got a dad that didn't want to meet me and a dead mom, and for a long time I was waiting on Luke, by myself and all that good stuff. It was rough, man. Also, I did lots of therapy. I know their tricks—psychologists. The happy tricks."
"I don't like them," he says flatly.
"Psychologists or happy tricks? Then that’s why you have me. I'm just an asshole from Brooklyn."
I move into the kitchen, feeling tightness in my chest and throat. I get out the inhaler, but I don't use it. It's okay.
Just some guy you don't know, Vanny.
But I want to help him. I don't know how therapists do their shit. I think it would kill me to see people in pain every day.
As if on cue, Sky calls my cell phone right then.
"You guys okay?" he asks.
"Sort of," I say, cradling the phone against my cheek and wrapping a hand around my mouth so Miller can't hear.
"You can't stop thinking about what he told me,” Luke says. “Can you?"
"No.” I exhale.
"I know—because I can't either. We're going to fix this, though. Somehow. We’re going to be sure he’s okay. Don't let him out of your sight, though, Vance."
"What do you mean?" I whisper.
"Just keep him close by. Keep him busy." Is Sky saying what I think he's saying? I don't want to ask outright.
I say, "Okay."
"I'll be okay today," he tells me. "Feeling better after last night. I lost it for just a little while, and I've got brown hair to prove it. But it's going to be okay. I'm moving forward with the plans for this new…center. The board has indicated they're behind me, and we're moving forward. Having a college kid seek us out...it feels good. Right. Keep me posted," he adds.
"Keep me posted, too."
"Love you,” Sky says.
"Love you more, Rayne."
I stack a platter with some breakfast scones, some turkey bacon from yesterday morning, a giant chocolate chip muffin, a bunch of fruit, some yogurt, crackers, cheese, and little sausage things I can’t thoroughly identify—I just know they smell good—and then tuck two cold water bottles under my left arm.
I find Miller standing by the built-in bookshelves to the left of the TV. His shoulders are raised a little as he holds Miss Eden. From the back, he looks a little bulkier than he does up front. I wonder if he plays sports in college, and what event kicked off his flight from school to our house. He wasn’t clear on that with Luke—at least, not that I could discern.
“Hey.” I say it softly, so I don’t startle the guy. He turns around, smiling faintly. He’s got Eden propped on one of his arms, holding her head gently with his other hand so she’s sitting up with her back against his chest.
“You’re good with her,” I tell him. “You know how to hold her.”
He blinks at me, and I think he’s trying to smile but his mouth can’t do it.
“Here…” I set the platter on an end table. “Let’s do a swap.”
He hands Edey to me with a sort of elegance that makes me wonder if he’s an artist or some other sort of craftsman.
“Let’s turn on the TV,” I suggest. “Tell me what you like. You’ll eat some food and tell me something. Anything. Favorite color, hometown… Maybe what happened to bring you here. Or nothing. We could also talk about the weather. Sports. What do you want to watch?”
He’s like a large owl, just blinking at me. I would say h
e’s got a decent poker face, but I’m not sure he’s trying to be this way.
“Anything is fine.” He lets a breath out and looks down at the floor.
“HGTV or ESPN?” I smirk.
His eyes flicker to mine, the brows arching. “ESPN.”
He sits on the couch, legs slightly spread and his forearms on his knees, looking at me before rolling one of his shoulders.
“I’m sorry for interrupting your night,” he says. “Last night.”
“Be sorry for not eating that gigantic muffin,” I say, nodding at it.
Miss Baby seems to need a new diaper, so I take the wrapped muffin, chuck it his way, and then head for the puffy pillow changer thing we’ve been keeping over on top of a window seat between two bookshelves.
I change the diaper, and he’s quiet behind me. I turn around and find he’s got the muffin unwrapped. His eyes are fixed on me. His face is blank. It’s weird blank. Like it’s stuck that way.
I hurry back over to him without acting like I’m hurrying. “Muffin okay?”
He nods once, but he looks like a zombie.
I set Miss Baby up in her living room swing. Then I sit on the couch with him, on the other end. I grab an apple, take a bite, and tell him about how Sky believes that apples should be kept cold. That earns me a small, one-sided smirk-smile.
I try not to look like I’m watching as he picks at the muffin. I can see him swallow. Fuck, I wish I knew what to say to help him. Finally he looks at me. “Can I get a drink?”
“Sure. I’ll get you something. What were you hoping for?”
“Uh, like…a milkshake, maybe? Or…protein shake? If you have that?” His eyes are so damn hopeful. I can see the way his hand is sort of clenched around the muffin, like he hates to even hold the thing.
“Sure. We have that. You want a protein shake? Chocolate, vanilla, or strawberry?”
I can see the moment when his face relaxes. “Any of them.”
“You want to watch Miss Baby? I’ll whip something up for you, since you don’t know your way around the kitchen.”
He nods, and I can see him exhale as I walk toward the kitchen. I mix him what I hope is the best shake I’ve ever made, and he looks relieved as he takes it from me. I sit on the floor beside the baby swing, checking on Eden and then turning my attention back to Miller.
“How long you think you’re going to stay out this way? Assuming that you’re not from California.”
“I’m not,” he says. He takes a long sip of the shake. “I don’t know.” His face is unreadable. “No more than a few days. I don’t think I want to flunk out of my classes. The bus ride here takes a few days.”
“You took a bus here?”
He nods, his gaze meeting mine then falling back to the floor.
When he doesn’t say more, I fire up the TV. I play ESPN as requested and watch as he drains the protein shake dry. It was chocolate.
“You want to try the strawberry?” I ask, going off an instinct.
His brows rise, and he says, “Sure,” a little too fast.
“Be right back.”
I return to find him sitting by the baby swing. “She was moving,” he says.
His voice is low and thick. He shifts his shoulders like he’s maybe uncomfortable. I hand him the drink, and he gets up and goes back to the couch to drink it.
Man, the guy can barely look at me. He looks at the drink, which he holds between his palms when he’s not drinking it. I can feel the misery oozing off him…a real sense of heaviness. Almost reminds me of how bad I felt after my mom died. Kid just seems like he’s grieving.
“I’m gonna ask you something, okay?” I say, moving to lean against an armchair a few feet from his couch.
“I can’t fix that if you break it.” He smirks slightly, but his eyes are still beaming out pain.
I grin back. “I’m not that heavy.” I blow a breath out, because this shit is awkward. “Okay, cowboy. It’s just us in here, okay?”
He nods. Now he’s looking down again—at the floor. His eyes flicker up to mine, and then back to his drink.
“I’m on your team, okay? As far as I’m concerned, you’re a welcome guest in this house. And I know Luke feels the same. We’re glad you came to us. I just want to know if you’ve been taking anything. Are you coming off something? Something we should know so we can help? So you’ll feel better?”
He sets the drink down on the floor and puts his face in his big hands—and he starts sobbing.
30
Luke
“He’s still greedy with the details,” Vance murmurs into the phone. “But when I asked if he quit something, he just fucking lost it, dude. I bet he cried for almost a whole hour. After that, he took a nap, and then he showered for a while. That worried me, but it was okay. I got him to tell me that he feels sick when he eats. He prefers shakes and shit like that. But then when we went out to grab lunch at the shake and burger drive through gig, he made himself choke down a burger. Like, he’s trying,” Rayne says.
I blow out the breath I’m holding. “Maybe we should take him to a doctor.”
“No.” Rayne’s voice is so firm that I flinch. “He says absolutely no doctors. He doesn’t want to see a doctor. Not even at our house. He said there’s nothing wrong with him. But dude, I think he’s scared or something.”
“That makes sense,” I say slowly. I puff another breath out, just because my chest feels so tight.
“Anyway, he got a bunch of stuff and now he’s in the dressing room at Nordstrom. Edey and I are out here, and I’ve got a big-ass hat on.” He laughs softly.
“Thank you, Rayne.”
“Don’t be thanking me. You’re not the only nice guy with the surname McDowell.” I can tell Rayne’s teasing. I wrap an arm around myself and wish V was with me.
“No, you are,” I say.
“We both are. I miss you,” he adds. “When ya coming home?”
“Within the hour. It’s been a long day without you, but a lot got done.” I tell Rayne all about the plans in the works for what we’re calling The Rainbow Initiative, and somehow he has the energy to be here with me, present, sounding genuinely proud and happy.
“You didn’t get any sleep last night, did you?” I ask.
“He’s out of the fitting room. I’ll call ya back.” Rayne’s voice is husky. I’m not sure I’ve ever wanted him as much as I do right now.
‘Just so GOOD,’ I text him. Then I smile as I send a puckered lips emoji.
‘U are,’ he texts back within the next few minutes.
‘U getting him some stuff?’
‘Yup. Hate to force him to wear lame uncle V’s clothes.’
‘As if you could ever be lame.’
‘We’re old in his eyes, Sky. I can tell he’s thinking of us as old.’
‘The audacity.’ I throw in an upside down smilie.
‘Lol’
‘Get him a lot of stuff. And airport luggage,’ I tell Vance.
‘This is so weird’
‘I know, right? Stranger to family in a few hours. Welcome to pastor life, Vance.’
Welcome to pastor life. It’s the last text we exchange for a while, so it’s hanging in my mind as I drive toward the house after I leave work.
Welcome to pastor life. Is that what this is? I’m still living pastor life. I’m a gay pastor?
“I’m an out, gay pastor.” I laugh. Once it starts, I can’t stop grinning. “I’m an out, gay pastor. I’m the head pastor at Evermore! And…I’ve got a husband.”
I smile like a giddy kid through half a dozen red lights. Then I turn the music up and crack my car window and rub a hand back through my dark hair.
I’m gay. Sitting here in my car, thinking about my husband and our baby. Our baby whose birth mom wants to sit down with us tomorrow for a meeting. A very lawyerly meeting, that could end with us securing custody.
“I’m a gay man with a family. And a drop-by visitor.” I laugh, catching my own eyes in the rear-view.
I look happy.
I look really freaking happy.
Vance Rayne is my husband. We’ve got our own baby. And I’ve got a church to run. Also, people to help. I’m thinking of Miller as I pull into the driveway and I see an Escalade with New York plates.
Vance
I got Miller a whole bunch of shit at Nordstrom—everything from socks to two good suitcases. He tried to protest, but the poor guy’s in such rough shape, I don’t think he had the energy to fight back.
I ask how he feels about soft serve, and when he tells me he’s okay with it, we swing by a soft-serve drive thru that’s got a bunch of bizarre flavors. He gets cotton candy and I get peanut butter chocolate. When little Eden fusses while I pay at the window, Miller bounces her car seat the way I tell him to—because he’s already back there with her.
“Giving her some company,” he said nonchalantly when we first left the house.
I can tell he’s a good guy. And also really fucking broken. I’m not sure I’ve ever spent time with another person who seemed so vulnerable. Even though he doesn’t draw attention to himself, it’s like he just bleeds sadness.
I’m trying out my church-themed knock-knock jokes on him as I turn the McDowell household’s “spare” Escalade into the driveway. I press the button and the gate starts opening. I gas us up the little hill, and I squint.
Is that another black Escalade?
My stomach bottoms out when I notice the New York plates.
“Shit,” I whisper, pulling into the garage. Why does every time I come home have to bring some new fucking surprise?
“What’s wrong?” From behind me, Miller sounds nervous.
I put the car in park and turn to him. “Are you from New York state?”
“No. I’m from Virginia.”
I file that detail away. “I guess it could be another member of the cleaning staff or something. Catering.” Sky could have ordered food for us, I guess. That wouldn’t be too abnormal.
“Probably someone Luke sent for,” I tell him, even as my heart starts pounding. “You’d be surprised at what money can buy, kid.”
