Legal Bindings

35. Nick

Nick’s phonebuzzed in his pocket. Again. It was the fourth such buzzing since the start of the meeting, which made him want to climb out of his skin. He was desperate to look down and find out if it was a genuine caller, or just a persistent spammer, which was something he wouldn’t have cared about before Sydney. But knowing she was out there, possibly needing him, made him hot and itchy and—

Fuck it.He couldn’t just sit there, wondering. So as unobtrusively as possible, he pushed his chair back. Olivia gave him the stink eye, but he was a grown adult who could take a bathroom break if he wanted.

After stepping into the hall, Nick went around a corner to get out of view of the glass-walled conference room before pulling out his phone to find—damn it—four missed calls from Donna. He wasted no time in calling her back.

“Hey, Nick!”

“Hi, I’m so sorry. I was in a meeting.”

“I’ve got some news for you.”

Nick inhaled, the force of his anticipation nearly knocking the wind from him. Donna didn’t sound unhappy. “You… is it?”

“Congratulations. The last paper has been filed, and you’re officially Sydney’s foster parent.”

Nick couldn’t speak, and he stared at his phone, his mouth agape. So many competing sensations overwhelmed him that he couldn’t find a foothold, at first, until he caught hold of the strongest one, which was joy. Sheer, unmitigated joy.

“Wow… that’s… wow.”

It was funny how hard the reality of something could hit a person. He had spent the past few months working diligently to prove himself—both because he wanted Sydney and because it was a distraction from the gaping Evan-sized hole in his heart—but the theoretical probability of approval was a different beast than the reality of it. While he couldn’t find words, he also couldn’t stop smiling.

“I thought you might want to tell her yourself. You can pick her up from school today if you want.”

“Yes, I want.” Glancing at his watch, he realized he could make it by the time the last bell went. “I’ll head out right now.”

“She’s gonna be thrilled. Congratulations again. I’m so happy for you.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” he said with a laugh.

They exchanged a few more words about paperwork and property transfer and Sydney moving out of the group home, though no bureaucracy could easily be handled in a phone call. But the fact remained that Sydney was coming home.

His mood soured, however, when he hung up and turned to find Olivia staring daggers at him from behind. “Planning on rejoining us, Nick?” she asked, tapping her watch like a caricature out of an old movie.

“I… look, I’m really sorry, but I have to go pick up my kid.” He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face at finally being able to use those words. “My foster application went through, and I want to be the one to tell her.”

Olivia cut him off with a sigh. “You can’t tell her in a few hours?”

Nick’s smile faded. “No, actually, I can’t. Look, I’m sorry, but this is a big deal.”

“It’s always a big deal with you, isn’t it? Funerals, home visits, all this… family business. I don’t need to remind you that you’re still on your probationary period, do I?”

Nick’s face went hot, and he took a step back, his palms suddenly clammy. “Obviously not. But I’ve done everything you’ve asked me to, and I work nights and weekends to compensate for the time.”

“It’s just that I’m starting to think that your home life might be a bit… complicated. It makes it hard to take you seriously. To take your career seriously.”

“Just because I have a… a family…” The word felt strange, but as he said it out loud for the first time, he found it suited him. “Doesn’t mean I’m not serious about this job.”

“Then you’ll have no problem finishing the meeting.”

“I’m sorry, but no. I have to go.”

Olivia’s expression shuttered. “You know, Nick, I can’t disagree with you—you do get your work done, but you only rise to the bare minimum of my expectations. You have no passion for the work, and it’s clear your mind is elsewhere.”

“I—” Nick stopped short.

She was right—he had no passion for the job because the job was a means to an end. A means to Sydney. And if the job required him to burn the midnight oil or deny that he had a family, well then, it wasn’t the job for him. The only trouble was, he didn’t have another one lined up. Oh, the irony of the fact that with Sydney in his life, he’d have been the perfect fit for family-oriented McNeeley and Lowe.

“You?” Olivia prompted.

“No, sorry. You’re right. I don’t have, ah… passion. But I do have to pick up my kid, so I’ll see you tomorrow. And I’ll work this weekend or whatever you need.”

Knowing he’d likely burned his last remaining corporate-law bridge to the ground, Nick pushed past Olivia and headed for his car, replaying the conversation in his mind. Olivia was probably already submitting the paperwork to put him on a performance-review plan—or shit, maybe she’d just fire him. But that seemed unlikely. If nothing else, he was a warm body filling a role, and the bare minimum was better than no work at all. More likely, she’d line up another candidate and boot him out in a month or so.

Which would put him right back where he’d started, only with Sydney to think about. But he didn’t want another corporate job that would expect him to compartmentalize his life. He needed a job that would allow him to be a proper parent.

Of course, jobs like that tended not to pay as well as the soul-sucking ones that kept you away from your kids for days on end. Something had had to give, and as Nick pulled into the parking lot of Sydney’s school, he had a sinking feeling he knew what that something might be.

Kids were streaming out of the building, and a rude traffic attendant directed Nick into the long line of cars waiting for pickup. However, Sydney didn’t know she was being picked up, which meant Nick had to text her so she wouldn’t get on a bus.

Two minutes later, she opened the passenger door, a confused smile on her face as she slid in. “What are you doing here?”

“I can’t pick up my kid from school?” Nick let the statement linger, hoping she’d figure it out.

“You can, but—” Her expression moved from pleased to confused and finally to hopeful. “Wait, you don’t mean…”

“Oh, I absolutely mean,” he said with a grin, which was all he got out before she was across the car and wrapping her arms around him in one of her so-tight-it-was-almost-painful embraces. “It’s officially official, Siddo.”

When Sydney pulled back, she had tears on her cheeks and the brightest smile Nick had ever seen affixed to her face. “I wanted it,” she said, hiccupping around her words. “But I didn’t really think I could have it.”

“With me on the case? It was always gonna happen.” He reached over to brush a tear from her cheek. “And we—”

Someone pounded on the windshield, spoiling the moment. Nick looked up and found the traffic warden scowling and indicating that he was holding up the line. Suddenly, he felt much more like a real parent. He couldn’t wait to get Sydney home.

* * *

By the time the weekend rolled around, Sydney was officially moved into Evan’s old bedroom, and Nick was officially on yet another performance-improvement plan at work. The improvement part, as ever, was nebulous, and mostly there to generate paperwork that the firm could use to fire him at a later date.

So basically, he was job hunting, and this time around, he didn’t have Evan swanning in with a checkbook in hand, ready and willing to rent his rooms. It was funny—Evan had been the solution to so many of his problems. But Evan was in New York, and Nick was too scared to reach out and tell him what was going on, so that left him with very few options.

He didn’t want another roommate, nor could he have one without a big kerfuffle with the state. However, he was also done working for big firms. That meant looking at alternative options. And while there were plenty of lawyers in the world who served as in-house counsel for universities and schools and nonprofits, who could go home to their families at night, what they couldn’t do was afford a three-bedroom fixer-upper in one of the nicer neighborhoods in Seattle.

The more Nick thought about it, the more he realized that the house had always been the millstone around his neck. As much as he loved it, he’d paid too much in the first place, and he was never going to get out from under the mortgage. Selling it would solve a lot of problems, and he could use the money to buy something smaller and farther out.

Sydney didn’t know he was considering that, though, and Nick felt guilty over how much she’d already moved in her short life. She needed something she could call her own—something big and permanent that would travel with them to any house, anywhere, and that she could keep for the rest of her life. And who did Nick know who made big, permanent things? His ex-husband, of course.

Finding an excuse to see Ben had been on Nick’s mind for a while, truth be told. Ever since he’d spoken with Max at the funeral, he’d thought about reaching out. His plan to purchase a custom piece for Sydney simply gave him the excuse he needed. So he filled out the appointment selection form on Ben’s website, which asked for his first name and phone number, and on Sunday afternoon, he loaded Sydney into the car and headed to the mountain that Ben called home.

Sydney was suspicious. “Where are we going?”

“My, ah… friend Ben’s house.” Friend seemed safe enough.

“Why?”

Nick shrugged. “Surprise.”

“Yeah, okay,” she said with the sort of sarcasm that only a sixteen-year-old could pull off.

Nick let her be, and soon enough, he turned onto a steep, sloping drive that switchbacked its way up the side of the slope to a clearing, where two board-and-batten buildings sat within a hundred feet of one another. The one on the right was a midcentury modern home, while the one on the left was a garage with two open bays.

A dog was sleeping in the leftmost bay, and it lifted its head as Nick rolled to a stop on the gravel drive. Seconds later, Ben emerged from the garage, wiping his hands on his leather apron. Nick’s heart stuttered, and for a moment, he considered reversing all the way down the hill. But this wasn’t about him—it was about apologizing to Ben and doing something nice for Sydney—so he steeled himself and opened the door.

Ben didn’t seem surprised by his presence, offering Nick a small smile as he got out of the car. “I wondered if it was going to be you.”

“Sorry. I, ah, I filled out the form.”

“Mmm. Well, I see the name Nick, and I wonder.” Ben seemed curious—and confused—about why he was there, but when Sydney got out of the car, he turned his attention to her instead. He wasn’t going to make a scene in front of the kid, and for that, Nick was grateful.

“You must be Sydney.”

Nick had no idea how Ben knew that. Then he realized that Max must have relayed the information after the funeral.

“Hi, yeah,” she said as the shaggy dog loped toward them. Sydney took a wary step back, and Ben clicked his tongue, which made the dog stop short.

“She’s harmless,” Ben said. “Name’s Judith. Come on into the workshop.”

Sydney glanced at Nick before following Ben, the dog at her heels. The shop was a mishmash of gleaming new tools and racks of old ones—awls and chisels and planes and all sorts of things Nick only knew the names of because he’d spent years with Ben, who was obsessed with all things craftsman.

Nick had never understood that passion, so he’d pushed Ben to focus on his career instead—on networking and climbing the ladder. He’d forced him to put aside his hobbies for real, serious, important things, like their relationship and their public image as the perfectly acceptable queer couple that straight people could invite to dinner parties. In other words, he’d been an ass.

“So, what are you looking for?” Ben crossed to a messy desk, where he picked up a notebook.

“Oh, ah, it’s for Sydney, actually,” Nick said, which got her attention. “I want you to make her a trunk. Something substantial that’ll last a lifetime and she can always have with her, no matter where she goes.” He gave Sydney a wink and was glad to see her looking pleased.

“Sure,” said Ben, turning to Sydney. “You’ve been moved around a lot, huh?”

Sydney nodded then looked at Nick. She wasn’t shy, but she did tend to get quiet around strangers.

“Sydney and I have something in common—we’ve lived out of a backpack,” Nick said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “So I want to give her some solid ground.”

Ben smiled then wrote something down. “I can show you some options, give you a quote, if you like.”

“You want to look, Syd?” Nick asked, giving her a nudge.

She nodded again, and they waited while Ben pulled out a file folder of magazine clippings and photographs. Someone must have organized his inspirational materials, because Nick couldn’t imagine Ben doing it for himself. Ben was a lot of things, but neat wasn’t one of them. That had been another stumbling block between them. Nick hadn’t had the patience to help, and he’d simply gotten angry. Max, it seemed, was a different breed.

Sydney discovered her voice as she looked over the options and gave opinions on what she liked and didn’t like when it came to the form and function of her trunk. Nick hung back while she and Ben talked, looking around the workshop, which was clearly well loved. Not unlike Ben, who looked happier than he’d ever been with Nick. Max was the right partner for him.

“Hey, Nick.”

Speak of the devil.Nick turned to find Max standing in one of the garage doors, wearing a pair of ripped flannel pajama pants and a T-shirt, looking like he’d just rolled out of bed.

“Hey,” Nick said with an awkward smile. “Sorry to, uh… I filled out the form.”

“Oh, I know. Your email address made us suspicious. I, ah… I’m glad you came. After our talk, I hoped you might reach out.”

“You—”

“I know you!” Sydney chirped. “You were at my mom’s service!”

Max’s smile widened. “I was, indeed. Sydney, right? I’m Max, Ben’s partner. You hungry? My mom and I just made breakfast.”

“Your mom lives here?”

“Yup. So, hungry?”

Sydney looked at Nick, who shrugged, happy to let her eat something more substantial than the single banana she’d grudgingly shoved in her mouth before they left the house. “Yeah, go on.”

Max and Sydney went, leaving Ben and Nick alone. Nick had a feeling Max had orchestrated events to give them some time together. As he looked his ex-husband in the eye, he found he only had one thing to say.

“I’m sorry,” Nick said. “For all of it. And I know that doesn’t mean much in the face of… everything. But I am.”

Surprise flashed across Ben’s expression, and after a moment, he shrugged. “It was a long time ago.”

“That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve an apology.” He cleared his throat. “I treated you like shit for a long time because I was so determined to change you—to turn you into someone you were never going to be. I had this image in my head of what you should be—what we should be—and I was bound and determined to force you into that box. But you were already perfectly yourself when I met you, and when you didn’t fit into the constraints of the life I was building, I started resenting you. But I didn’t want to fail, so it was easier to let you hate me than admit it wasn’t working.”

Confession concluded, Nick looked down at his hands. There was nothing save for the silence that hung between them like razor wire pulled taut.

“Jesus,” Ben said on an exhalation. “Thank you for that. You know, it’s funny. A couple years ago, if you’d shown up here, I’d have wanted to punch you. Hell, even last year when we ran into you at dinner, I wished I could just… pretend you’d never happened. But now, I don’t know. I don’t feel that way anymore. Having Max has helped me gain some perspective on you—on us—and how bad we were for each other. Don’t get me wrong—I appreciate the apology, but I figured out how to forgive you a while ago.”

“I’m glad you have him.”

“Yeah, me too.” Ben looked at the framed picture of him and Max on what looked like a camping trip, which sat on his desk. “You wanted me to be something I’m not, and I wanted to make you happy. It was a recipe for disaster, and we were both too stubborn to admit it. Now—I’m happy now, which, I guess, doesn’t leave as much room for resentment.”

“I’m happy for you,” Nick said. Six months ago he wouldn’t have felt that way, but the bitter pill of resentment could only be swallowed for so long before he spat it out in distaste.

“And I’m happy for you and this kid of yours.” Ben cleared his throat then tapped his notebook. “How big are you thinking, for the trunk?” With the feelings-and-apologies portion of the conversation concluded, they discussed details then price before finishing with a handshake. “Done and dusted,” said Ben before looking toward the house. “Want to go see how the breakfast club is getting along?”

“Sure. Max said his mother lives with you?”

“Mm-hmm. Little apartment over the shop.”

“Wow. You guys are, um…” Nick searched for the right word. “Functional. I mean, if you’re living with the in-laws.”

Ben laughed, giving his thigh a thump. “Most functional relationship of my life, which is probably because Max doesn’t let me get away with the shit I used to pull with you.”

Nick raised a brow. “Like what?”

“Like, he makes me talk. With you, I’d rather have cut out my vocal cords than have a conversation about what was bothering me.”

“Talking never was our thing.” Nick smiled. “Unless I was talking a bunch of bullshit, and you went along with it to shut me up.”

Ben laughed, and it was wild to think that they could laugh about something that had once been the festering sore of their marriage. “I needed a Max. He takes me as I am, warts and all, and I do the same for him.”

“You’re lucky.”

“I am.” Ben squinted then cocked his head. “I heard Evan moved to New York.”

Nick’s heart thumped, and he shrugged, aiming for casual and coming out strained. “He did.”

“Huh.” Ben straightened and reached for the silver-tipped cane he used for support. “You two looked close at the gallery.”

“We… I mean. We’re friends, still. We talk.” They didn’t.

“That’s good, then. C’mon. Breakfast before my leg gives out.”

They crossed the driveway to the house. After breakfast, Nick and Sydney said their goodbyes and got back in the car.

“Thank you,” Sydney said as they headed down the winding way. “I should have said that before.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Ben and Max are nice. How do you know them?”

“It, ah… you remember how I told you I used to be married? Well, I was married to Ben. A long time ago.” A very long time ago, in fact—Nick and Ben had met one another the same year Sydney was born. For a long time, the specter of his failed marriage had loomed large in Nick’s mind, yet there were so many people in the world who didn’t know or didn’t care or wouldn’t consider it the most important part of his story.

“Wait, really? He seems so nice. What happened?”

“We weren’t very good for each other in the end.”

“Wow. I didn’t think… I guess that makes sense, with how you let Evan go. Like you’re just not a relationship guy anymore?”

Nick raised a brow. “What does that mean?”

Sydney twisted in her seat to look at him. “I’m not stupid. You guys were, like… together, right?”

A prickling heat crept up Nick’s spine, and he shrugged. “Not… no. Not exactly.”

“Okay, so you were having sex.”

“Jesus, Syd.” He wasn’t so naive as to think that Sydney—a kid who’d grown up in group homes and shitty situations—was a blushing virgin, but that didn’t mean he wanted to discuss his sex life, or lack thereof, with her. “We were… it was…”

“It was what?”

“We were involved, yes, for a little while. But not anymore.”

“So you broke up.”

“No. We weren’t ever anything officially.” Because you wouldn’t let yourself be vulnerable enough to ask for it, his brain supplied.

“You sort of seemed like something to me,” she said, kicking her feet up onto the dash, which Nick knew he ought to reprimand her for, but he could only focus on one thing at the moment.

“We’re friends.”

“No, you’re not. You never even call him. I know—I talk to him all the time.”

“I know you do.”

“Friends talk. Even if you weren’ttogether, you were something. I don’t get why you let him leave.”

“Sydney, I didn’t let him leave. He’s a grown man.”

“Yeah, but I bet you didn’t tell him how you felt.”

Nick didn’t have a good response to that, so he said nothing, focusing instead on the misting fog that shrouded the pines.

“See,” Sydney said. “I knew it.”

“It’s more complicated than that.” He tapped his thumb against the wheel. “Of course, I felt something for him.”

“Then he deserves to know.”

The sentiment was no different from what Ben had said about communication—how Max made him talk and didn’t let things fester. Between Evan and Nick, though, Evan was the talker. “Evan isn’t someone who keeps his feelings to himself. If he felt differently, he would have said so.”

“No offense, but that’s kind of dumb,” she replied.

Nick, taking offense, rolled his eyes. “How is that dumb?”

“Because it’s hard to talk to the people you like about why you like them. So maybe you should actually be his friend and call him up and tell him you miss him.”

Nick sighed, and when he rounded a corner and saw a place to pull over on the shoulder, he took advantage, slowing to a stop and turning to Sydney. “I’ll think about calling him, okay?”

And he would—he really would—because Evan deserved to know that he’d meant something to Nick, even if that something had only been temporary. He deserved a better ending than Nick’s guilty conscience cutting him off at the knees.

“Okay.” She frowned. “Why’d you stop?”

“Because… you’re right. It’s hard to talk about feelings, but I need to talk to you.”

“About Evan?”

“No. It’s about…” He bit his lip, choosing his words carefully so as not to place any blame on her shoulders. “I really don’t like my job, Syd. I thought I would, but I don’t, so I think I’m going to look for something else. But it might not pay as much as my old job.”

“Are you getting rid of me?” she said, shrinking back.

Fuck. “No! God, no. That’s…” He reached for her hand and felt tension radiating from every inch of her. “Syd, you’re… we are a family. Full stop. I’m telling you because I want you to be involved in what comes next, is all.”

Sydney’s shoulders unhunched by millimeters. “Which is what?”

“I have to sell the house,” he said, speaking the words out loud for the first time. “With the equity I have in it, we’ll have enough in the bank to rent an apartment in the same school district, even if my new job pays a lot less. Then, maybe next year, I can buy something a little farther out. You’ll have to switch schools again, and I’m sorry for that, but I think it’ll be worth it.” He would lose some money in the process, but cash in hand was becoming increasingly necessary.

“You… wait, you want to sell the house?”

“I don’t want to, but the house is a money pit, Syd. You know how much work it needs. I bought it when the only thing in my life I cared about was having material worth. It’s different now, with you and with Sam.”

“What about Sam?” she asked, frowning.

Shit.He hadn’t meant to drop that bomb, but now it was out there, so he might as well come clean. “I’ve been talking with Donna and with Sam’s foster parents, and it might take a while, but I’d like to—”

That was all he got out before she hugged him tight, not crying, but not dry-eyed either. Eventually, she pulled away, her eyes gleaming.

“You’re such an asshole,” she muttered.

The insult was so unexpected that Nick laughed. “Why is me trying to be nice being an asshole?”

“Because… because everything sucked for so long, and you just showed up and made it better.”

“Oh, but you’re wrong about that, Siddo. You’re the one who found me. If anyone’s to blame for all of this good stuff, it’s you, kiddo.”

Sydney ducked her head. “I guess.”

“I love you, you know that? Even if you do think I’m an asshole.”

“Takes one to know one. And…” She took a deep breath. “I, um. I love you too.”