CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR JAY
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
J AY
I swallow the last gulp of tea in my glass, then rinse it out and place it in the sink.
The sun hovers above the horizon, promising an hour or two of sunlight before it sets for the evening. I wanted to be home an hour ago. But thanks to the pop-up showers that hit the jobsite all afternoon, we didn’t get out of there on time.
My irritation can’t be blamed solely on the weather, though. It has more to do with the kink in my stomach after last night’s dinner than anything else. That’s what kept me awake until a brief nap at dawn. That ordeal is what ran through my mind all day.
Dylan’s pain has haunted me for the last twenty-four hours.
My heart hurts for all of them. Suffering a loss like they have is brutal. Gabrielle’s ability to keep everything going in the midst of the tragedy is a testament to her strength.
She’s an amazing woman.
What’s bothered me since I left their house is that I can’t help. This isn’t something I can get involved with, because to Dylan, I’m the enemy. Or, at least, that’s what he wants us to believe.
The problem is that I’m not the enemy, and we both know that.
My phone rings on the counter. I pick it up when I see it’s Gabrielle.
“Hey,” I say.
“Hi. How was work today?”
“Wet.”
“Now you know how I feel every day.”
I grin. “Funny. How was your day?”
“Hard.”
“Now you know how I feel every day.”
She laughs. “Look, I know we talked about this last night. But if you don’t feel comfortable coming over here tonight, I understand.”
“Do you not want me to come?”
“I didn’t say that. It’s just that you aren’t here yet, and I know you got home about twenty-seven minutes ago because Carter yelled the moment you pulled into your driveway about wanting to go get you to play catch.”
I touch my still-swollen eye. “Do you think you could get him interested in something less painful? What about ... piano lessons?”
Gabrielle bursts out laughing. The sound settles in my gut, unwinding one of the knots that’s been plaguing me all day.
“No to the piano,” she says. “Your eye might feel better, but your ears would not.”
“Damn it.” I lean against the counter. “We’re hanging the light on the porch, right?”
“Yup. I about killed myself trying to get in the other night in the dark. It’s a matter of life and death at this point. I mean, I’d do it myself but—”
“It’s electrical,” we say in unison.
I can’t wipe the smile off my face. “I’ll be there in a few.”
“Okay.”
“See ya.”
“Bye, handsome.”
I slide my phone down the counter until it crashes into the bananas. This woman is going to be the death of me.
My boots are by the door. I slip them on and then head across the lawn. Carter sees me coming when I’m three steps into the grass and hauls ass across the yard. His hair flows behind him, and his smile is as wide as Texas. It does something to my insides that concerns me.
“Okay,” he says, stopping on a dime at my side. Then he walks beside me, no worse for wear. “I’ve been thinking. Some guys are field guys. Some guys are batters. Maybe you’re a batter.”
This child. “Carter, buddy, I have some old videotapes of me playing baseball that my mother took when I was in high school.”
“Really? They had videotapes back then?” His face contorts. “Wait. What’s a videotape?”
I sigh. “Anyway, maybe we can sit down and watch some of it before we practice again. Just so you know that I know what I’m talking about.” And that I was recruited by colleges my senior year.
“Okay.”
He has no idea what I’m talking about.
“Hey, Jay?”
“Yeah?”
“My brother might hate your guts, but I don’t. I like you.”
Whoa. I clear my throat. “Did Dylan say he hated my guts?”
“No. But it sure sounded like it.”
Fair enough.
Still, my hated guts twist as we reach the front porch. Carter babbles on about how to hold a baseball, but my mind is elsewhere.
I wonder if I could talk to Dylan. Would that be overstepping? Would that make it worse?
I take a deep breath. Easy, Stetson. That’s sounding an awful lot like being involved on a deeper level.
Fuck. But isn’t that what I’m supposed to be wanting now? To become involved?
My heart hurts for the boy. I want to help because I know I can. But helping always winds up biting me in the ass.
Gabrielle comes out wearing shorts and a genuine smile.
Maybe it won’t bite me in the ass this time. This is different from my situation with Melody and Izzy. I feel it in my soul.
“Hey,” Gabrielle says, running her hand through Carter’s hair. She grins at me. “Do you think it’s safe to work on this since it’s so damp out here from the rain?”
“As long as the electrical parts are dry, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
She yawns and sits on the porch swing. “Is it just me, or has this been the longest day ever?”
“It’s been the longest day ever for me,” Carter says. “We had music class today. Do you know how long that takes? Forever.”
Guess no piano, after all.
“It was pretty long for me too,” I say. “I had a lot on my mind.”
“What’s that mean?” Carter asks.
I chuckle. “It means I was distracted, which is never a good thing at work.”
“Oh.” He squints at me. “Your eye is still black, you know.”
“I’m aware.”
“Okay.” He turns to Gabrielle. “Can I have a snack? An itty-bitty one? It’s a long time before dinner, so it won’t spoil anything.”
She holds out a hand. “Yes. You may. Only one, though.”
I’m not sure Carter hears anything past the yes over his shouts of victory and the door shutting behind him.
“Can I sit by you?” I ask, making my way to her.
“Please do.”
I lower myself onto the swing, and then Gabrielle snuggles up next to me. Instantly, the stress of the day fades into thin air. How does she do that? Make everything just feel ... right?
“Do you know what’s weird?” she asks.
“What’s that?”
“Having you here makes things just ... better.” She looks up at me and grins. “I don’t want to sound clingy, but it’s true.”
I kiss the top of her head.
Her admission doesn’t sound clingy. It sounds like I’m a lucky man. But I don’t want to tell her that—not here. Not after last night’s debacle with Dylan and at a moment when Carter could run outside jabbering away about baseball. But I do want to tell her how I feel. I want Gabrielle to know that this isn’t even the situation I thought it would be when I warned her the first night we had sex.
This is something more.
It’s real.
And as scared as I was to fall for anyone—a single mom, no less—being with Gabrielle and Carter and Dylan, eventually, is the easiest, most right thing in the world. I don’t know where in the hell it’s going, but I know where I hope it leads eventually. I think we can get there.
That’s what I want Gabrielle to know. She’s not alone. I’m here and I want to make their lives richer, safer. And in some way, in the earliest form, I might even be falling in love with her. I might also care a lot more than I want to admit about those boys.
“Do you think we can figure out how to get the evening to ourselves tomorrow?” I ask.
“Probably. Why?”
I smile at her. “I just want to have you to myself and talk to you about some things without keeping one eye open for a baseball coming at me.”
“Only one eye because that’s all you have?”
I shake my head, making her laugh.
“All right,” Carter says, bursting out the door with the energy of a child hyped on chocolate. “I forgot to tell you something.”
“Who? Me?” Gabrielle asks.
“Nope.” He turns to me. “You.”
“Why does that feel like a threat?” I ask.
He bends over laughing, even though I’m not sure he understood the joke. Gabrielle, on the other hand, elbows me in the ribs.
“Okay,” I say. “What did you forget to tell me? I know my eye is black. So if it’s that, I got it.”
“ No. It’s not that. It’s that at school, they’re having a Boat Box Derby.”
“A what?” Gabrielle asks.
“A Boat Box Derby.”
I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “Do you mean a Soap Box Derby?”
“Yes. That. I didn’t know what it was, but all the kids were talking about it. They do it every year in our grade and the principal comes and there’s cake .” He pauses to make a face, as if that’s a hook enough. He puts his hands on my forearms and leans so close that I can smell the chocolate on his breath. “I signed us up for it.”
He stares holes in my eyes. And for the first time since I met Carter Solomon, he’s as serious as a heart attack.
I’m not sure what to say. Sure, I’m happy to help him with whatever he needs. But this feels very ... parental. That’s what fucks me up a little bit.
“Carter, honey,” Gabrielle says, scrambling to pull his attention away from me. “You can’t just sign Jay up for stuff. Why would you do that? I’m happy to help you build a ... soap box?”
He sighs animatedly. “It’s a derby car, Mom , and that’s why you can’t help. You don’t even know what it is. And Jay is good at building stuff. Have you even been in his garage?”
“I have,” she says, her cheeks pink. “But just because he can build things doesn’t mean he has time to build you a derby car.”
“He does,” Carter says happily. “All the kids are having their dads help them. And I told them Jay was practically my dad—”
Dylan bursts through the door, making us all jump. His face is beet red as he stares us all down. “Fuck that. He’s not your dad.”
I want to step in and say something. But what do I say? Do I tell Carter that I’m not his dad? Or that I’m happy to help? Do I tell Dylan no one is trying to replace his dad, or do I stay out of it so I don’t make this worse?
“Okay, Dylan, calm down,” Gabrielle says, standing up.
“ I’m not calming down. You lied to me.”
Gabrielle flinches. “What did I lie to you about?”
“All that stuff you said last night in my room. About how no one is trying to make Jay our dad. And how great my dad was and how much you want to do what’s right by him. And now I come out here and hear Carter tell him”—Dylan glares at me—“that he’s practically our dad. I don’t fucking think so. ”
“Dylan, can I talk to you privately for a moment?” I ask.
“No.” He looks at me like I’ve grown three heads. “I’m not talking to you. I hate you. I wish we had never met you.”
“Dylan!” Gabrielle says.
“Why are you being a jerk face to Jay?” Carter asks, reaching for his brother’s arm.
Dylan shoves his hand away. “Because you don’t understand what this means, Carter. This man is not your dad. He’s not like your dad . He’s nothing to you. Do you hear me?”
Carter’s eyes fill with tears.
“I just want to hear you out,” I say.
“Don’t. Care,” Dylan says, scowling at me. “There isn’t an open spot in our family for you. We had a dad and now he’s gone and the last thing we need is to have another guy step in just so he can leave us too.”
“I’ve heard enough,” Gabrielle says.
Dylan turns his scowl to her. “Good, me too.” He reaches for Carter. “Come on, buddy. It’s me and you. This guy is nothing to us. All right?”
“Dylan ...” Gabrielle says, but her words are cut off by the look Carter gives us over his shoulder as he goes inside with his brother.
I exhale, running my hands down my face. How did this turn upside down so fast?
The boy’s words cut through me, sobering me out of my daydream. Am I delusional to think that I can fit into this family the way I want to? Is it possible to join them at their ages and expect to be accepted into the fold?
My face heats as reality slams into me.
Gabrielle’s sadness is palpable. “I’m sorry, Jay. I need to go in and deal with this mess.”
“I’ll go with you.”
She frowns. “Thank you, but that’s probably not a good idea.”
What?
“Look, Jay. These are my kids. This is my problem. Not yours.”
It’s not the words that bother me. It’s the tone she uses that cuts me to the quick.
“These are my kids. This is my problem. Not yours.”
It’s reminiscent of the last argument that Melody and I had the day before I came home and she and Izzy were gone. We had argued the night before over the fact that I hadn’t proposed to her. The next day, the school called because Izzy was sick and needed to be picked up. That was the day I discovered that I had been removed from my daughter’s emergency contacts list.
“She’s my child, Jay. If you wanted her to be yours, you’d do what you need to do.”
A tightness spreads through my body, nearly strangling me in the process. It’s too close to déjà vu to be comfortable. It’s too similar to the worst day of my life for me to live it again.
How did I get here? How did I get to a place where I fucking care? How did I put myself in this position to be kicked out of the lives of people I care about, like I don’t matter at all?
This is crushing me.
Do I like this woman? Hell yes. Do I want to try for more? Absolutely. I can’t deny it. But if this is what it feels like after being with her for a few weeks, then I don’t think I can take the risk of waiting for a few years to pass before she says something like that again.
“These are my kids. This is my problem. Not yours.” How apt. How fucking true. You gotta move on from this now, Stetson. Do it before it’s too late for everyone involved.
Whether she knows it or not, Gabrielle Solomon just drew the final line in the sand.
“You know what? You’re right. They are your kids, and it is your problem,” I say, my heart pounding in my ears. “I hope you guys figure it out.”
“What are you saying, Jay?”
I shrug. “I’m not saying anything other than ...” My shoulders fall. “Tell Dylan I’m sorry. I’m sorry to you too.”
I plant a kiss on her head, avoid her eyes, and walk down the steps toward home.