Exposed - Chapter 19
Sunday
Matt
It had been a really long time since I’d smiled this hard. Brooklyn baked to feel close to me. She kept all those notes I’d passed her in class. She still had my varsity jacket. She was still mine.
Her heart had been broken the first time we met too. And I knew how to make her feel better. It wouldn’t take years. Or months. Maybe weeks. Weeks of reminding her that it was okay to smile and laugh. I’d always been good at making her laugh.
But I knew the most important part about our future was meeting her son. And him liking me.
I watched as she pulled a pair of worn jeans up her hips to replace the pants I’d torn. She turned toward me with a smile. Like she loved catching me watching her dress.
“Ready?” she asked.
“I babysit Scarlett a lot,” I said. “And Sophie, Rob’s daughter. I’m good with kids. But I’m used to hanging out with little girls.”
Brooklyn laughed. “That sounded really weird.”
“Yeah. Sorry. I’m a little nervous to meet him. I am good with Liam too. But he’s just a baby. I…”
“It’s going to be okay,” she said. “But he’s a little shy sometimes. So don’t be offended if he hides from you. He’ll love that you coach football. If you talk about that…” She shook her head. “Sorry, I’m nervous too. Is it okay if I just tell him you’re my friend?”
“Of course.”
She nodded. “I’ll go wake him. Just give me one minute.”
I stayed on the bed as she walked out of the room. But maybe I shouldn’t be on the bed. I stood up. And then sat back down. I shouldn’t have been this nervous. I was great with kids. Scarlett and Sophie loved me. And I was one of the best people to get Liam to stop fussing.
I heard Brooklyn’s muffled voice in the other room.
I wandered over to the door to try and hear what she was saying.
“Sweet boy, please put on some clothes. We have company.”
“Aunt Kennedy? She doesn’t care. I don’t have to wear pants.”
“No, it’s…”
“My abuelo is here again! I need my hat!”
I heard little footsteps and he ran out into the hallway butt naked except for an old-fashioned, brimmed hat. But he stopped when he saw me in the doorway of Brooklyn’s room.
I knew this kid. I’d thought Tanner had kidnapped him. This time when the boy looked up at me, his hat was pushed back. And I got a good look at his face. He had Brooklyn’s nose.
“Oh.” He smiled up at me.
He had Brooklyn’s smile too.
“Jacob, this is my friend Matt,” Brooklyn said.
“Hiya, Coach,” Jacob said.
I stared at him.
“I thought you were Abuelo. Can we play football?”
“Wait, do you two already know each other?” Brooklyn asked. She looked as confused as I felt.
“He lives with Abuelo in his castle. With the angry little man. Right, Coach?”
“Yeah…” I looked back at Brooklyn.
“What angry little man?” she asked.
I was assuming he meant Nigel. And I loved that description of him.
Nigel had been rather perturbed about the fact that he wasn’t the most adorable boy in the room or something equally disturbing.
“It’s a long story. But I was staying with Tanner while this place was on the market.
” I didn’t want to go into any Poppy details right now.
“Tanner was watching him last night. I’m sorry… how is he Tanner’s grandson?”
“Jacob met my dad and he liked him about as much as I do. And Mrs. Alcaraz is teaching him some Spanish…”
“Sí,” Jacob said. “I don’t like my other abuelo. I like Abuelo Tanner. Why are you so dirty? Were you already playing football? Where’s the ball?”
“Oh…um…” I cleared my throat. “I left it in the car.”
“I’ll go get mine.” He ran back into his room.
Brooklyn looked up at me with a smile on her face. “It looks like he already likes you, Coach .”
Jacob ran back out into the hall carrying a football under his arm, like a perfect little running back.
“Nope,” Brooklyn said and picked him up. “If we’re going outside you at least need socks and pants.”
“Nooooo.”
I smiled. That was the cutest, drawn out no I’d ever heard.
“Yes,” Brooklyn said.
“No hablo inglés.”
“Yes you do speak English. And you also wear pants.”
This kid was about as stubborn as Scarlett. And Brooklyn was right, he already seemed to like me. And if he wanted to play football? That sounded a lot better than playing Barbies.
***
Jacob was surprisingly good at throwing and catching the football. There wasn’t a ton of room back here to do more than play catch. But this seemed to be what Jacob wanted to do anyway.
I stepped back when he tossed me another throw and almost ran into the huge clay pot Brooklyn had been trying to move. “Where did you want this?” I asked and picked up the pot.
Brooklyn pointed to the corner she’d been trying to drag it to.
I set it down.
“Thank you.”
I looked over at the planters she’d removed the tree from. “So you like to garden?” I asked. It seemed like the wrong season for tomatoes. Weren’t they going to die soon?
“Yeah. I think it’s my equivalent to your painting. I find it very relaxing.”
“These are baby Henry’s,” Jacob said and pointed to the tomato plant.
“Henry’s?” I asked.
“They’re all named Henry,” Jacob said. “But this one is a baby. Because he’s little.”
Brooklyn cleared her throat. “I know it’s silly. But I was really bad at growing things. And when I got better, I started naming them. They’re all descendants of my original Henry plant.”
“Really?” I laughed. What are the odds?
“Don’t laugh at me.”
“I wasn’t laughing because of that. I just…there’s this kid at Empire High. Henry Jefferson. A scholarship student I kind of took under my wing. I wanted to help him fit in.” I shrugged. “We both had Henry projects. What are the odds of that?”
She shook her head.
It was like we were on the same wavelength, even though we were apart.
“I’m hungry,” Jacob said. “Cuppycakes.”
I looked down at my watch. “For dinner? How about I order pizza or something?”
“Mommy and Abuelo let me eat cuppycakes for dinner.”
Well, I wasn’t going to argue with that. “Trying some of these famous baked goods sounds perfect to me.”
Brooklyn elbowed me in my side as she picked Jacob up.
Jacob had put on a pair of shorts. But he’d refused the shoes.
I followed her into the kitchen. She plopped Jacob on the kitchen counter with his feet dangling in the sink.
He kicked his feet as she cleaned them with soap and water.
Then she washed his hands too before depositing him on the granite island.
He sat right there in the middle like it was where he always sat.
And I kind of loved that he was a little barbarian.
He’d abandoned his hat before we’d played outside.
His hair was darker than Brooklyn’s and I wondered if it was the same color as Miller’s.
I couldn’t remember what Miller looked like.
I just remembered that he was a big guy.
It was easiest to picture him pushing Brooklyn into a car after her uncle’s funeral.
But that’s not the Miller that Brooklyn knew. I tried to push away what I knew about him. “What do you usually do on Sundays?” I asked.
Jacob looked up at me. “Football.”
“We usually play football outside in the morning,” Brooklyn said as she put icing on a cupcake. “And then catch the game in the afternoon.”
“Who do you root for?” I asked him.
“My dad and I like the Giants.”
Yeah, I was going to get along with Jacob just fine. “Me too.”
“Really?”
I nodded.
Brooklyn handed him the first cupcake.
Jacob looked down at it for a second, and then back up at me. “You can have the first one, Coach. The first one is the best.” He handed it to me.
“Thanks, kiddo.”
Brooklyn’s hand paused halfway through icing the next cupcake.
“Are you okay?” I asked.
“Yeah…it’s just…that’s what my uncle always called me.”
“Oh. Yeah, I…I remember that now.” I shook my head. “I actually call all my nieces and nephews that.”
“Really?”
I nodded. I’d forgotten about that. Geez, I really did have her all around me over the years.
I took a bite of the cupcake, thinking it would probably be some healthy variant of an actual cupcake.
I even tried to make a neutral face so I wouldn’t offend Brooklyn.
But…it was actually good. I was pretty sure there was real sugar in there.
And butter. It was delicious. “This is really good, Brooklyn.”
“Yeah?” She looked pleased with the compliment.
“Yessie,” Jacob said and grabbed the one that she’d just finished putting icing on. “Mommy makes the best cuppycakes.”
“You got that right.” I smiled over at her. “Can I have another?”
“Más más!” Jacob said.
She laughed. “Insatiable.”
I raised my eyebrow at her. I was insatiable. In more ways than one. I thought about the fact that she needed weeks before I proposed again. But I think I had it right the first time. She only needed days. Because she could feel it too, right? That we all already felt like a family?
She blushed and looked back down at the cupcake in her hand.
“Are you my abuelo too, Coach? Or my aunt?” Jacob asked me.
I laughed. “I’m just…Matt. You can call me that. Or Coach. Or whatever you want.”
“Okay, Coach. Can you and Mommy dance?”
“Oh, Jacob,” Brooklyn said. “That’s okay, we…”
“Mommy’s always happy when she’s dancing. And I like when she’s happy. Please?” He looked up at me. He probably got his brown eyes from his father. I expected to feel…hurt. Or something. But he was just really cute.
I looked over at Brooklyn.
She shrugged.
“Dance, dance.” He clapped his hands together.
“I think I can handle that,” I said.
Brooklyn grabbed her phone and turned on a fast paced song. It was quiet in the large kitchen. And I made a mental note to get a speaker system set up for her. She kept fiddling with her phone like she was nervous.
I hadn’t danced with her since…when? Halloween maybe? Yeah. Halloween. She owed me 16 years of dancing too. I shimmied my shoulders at her and she laughed.
I grabbed her hand and pulled her in close.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “It was a tradition at our house that we danced every night while we cooked dinner.”
“I can get down with that tradition.”
“Yeah?” She smiled up at me.
“Yeah.” I looked over at Jacob. “You know, I usually have a much shorter dance partner. Scarlett loves dance parties.”
“She does?” Jacob asked. “I like dancing too. I want down.” He reached out for me.
And it tugged at my heart. It definitely already felt like I fit. I lifted him off the island and put him on the ground. He started jumping around the floor to the beat of the music.
Jacob loved football. And he didn’t care what anyone thought of his dance moves. He wasn’t my son, I knew that. But he felt like a little piece of me. It didn’t really make any sense and yet…this felt right. Like I was supposed to be here for him. For his mom. I looked back at Brooklyn.
She’s stopped dancing. She was rubbing her index fingers along her lower lip. A nervous tick she didn’t used to have.
I grabbed her hand and pulled her into my arms. “What are you thinking about?” I whispered into her ear.
She swayed her hips to the music as she looped her hands behind my neck. “I was thinking that this feels right.”