Chapter 7
THEO’S CLASS had another redheaded girl with incredible aim. Fortunately she was easily distracted with the calling 911 role-play. Ty needed a classroom management strategy. So far he was skating by on being the cool new teacher, which wouldn’t last.
In the field, it was easy. Ty knew what he was doing. He projected confidence. The people he worked with respected his experience, and the patients generally just wanted someone calm to tell them what to do.
Ty could relate. He was pretty sure that was the appeal of having a life coach.
Maybe he should hire one of those. They would probably tell him to quit this teaching gig—that he was going to be busy enough sorting out his dad’s estate for the next two years. But if Ty didn’t have anything to distract him from that, he would lose his mind.
That afternoon one of the batters lost his grip and flung the bat directly at a teammate who had been told four times not to stand there. Fortunately Henry had forbidden the use of phones during practice, so the kid was paying enough attention to jump out of the way. No trips to the ER today, Ty thought.
“Hey, hey, Pete! What did we say about throwing the bat?”
Pete was halfway to first base because he was the only guy on the team who could hit worth a damn. “Oh—oh shit, sorry, Coach.”
Ty made a mental note to stop by the pharmacy after practice and stock up on Advil, chemical ice packs, and other necessities. “Watch your footing!” Ty yelled back, because the idiot kid was about to trip over the base.
He looked at Henry, but Henry was dead inside. Ty could tell from the hollowness of his eyes. It was a rare talent for a guy to be able to project the idea of facepalming without actually moving a muscle in his face. Henry had missed his calling as an actor .
Meanwhile, the right fielder was still running toward Pete’s ball, both because Pete had hit it halfway to the next time zone and because Danny, the fielder, had stubby little legs and hadn’t anticipated him absolutely crushing it, even though Pete had never once hit the ball less than two hundred feet.
Ty had the feeling the next few weeks would involve some aspirin for his own headaches.
God, they were going to be so hosed on Friday.
Ty glanced toward the parking lot for what had to be the twelfth time since practice began. Still no sign of Ollie’s Honda.
Ty hoped he hadn’t changed his mind about moving in. He was supposed to pick up the extra key Ty had made on his lunch break so he and Theo could start moving their stuff before Ty finished with practice. They were going to order pizza to celebrate.
“Hey.” Henry put a hand on his shoulder, and Ty startled. “Whoa, easy.” He frowned. “You okay? You looked like you were not on planet Earth for a minute, and now you’re jumpier than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”
I’m fine, I’m just worried the first friend I’ve made outside of work in years is going to stand me up. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay, just….” Henry’s phrasing caught up with him. “A long-tailed what ?”
“Good thing we didn’t tap you to teach listening skills.” A second pat of the shoulder and then Henry was off to the outfield, presumably to remind Danny to pay attention to who was at bat.
“Maybe if you didn’t talk like a Howdy Doody character I wouldn’t have to ask you to repeat yourself,” Ty grumbled after him.
By quarter after five, they’d wrangled the kids into putting away most of the equipment, and there was still no sign of Ollie. The last few stragglers on the team were heading toward the parking lot to find their rides. Ty did a double take when he saw what was presumably Pete’s dad, because he recognized Mr. Chiu from his father’s funeral (though, since he wasn’t looking at Ty, he wasn’t wearing the expression that made him look like he’d just stepped in something foul).
Somehow he ended up in a conversation about left-handedness with Danny and Henry.
“Did you know left-handed women have a 62 percent higher chance of developing multiple sclerosis?”
Henry gave him a concerned look. “Why do you know that? ”
“My ADHD was unmedicated for most of my life.”
“Ah.”
“What about left-handed dudes?” Danny asked.
Ty shrugged and picked up his practice duffel. “No idea.” Danny and Henry stared at him blankly until he continued, “ADHD, remember?”
Before Danny could ask about anything else Ty didn’t know, like whether this correlation was biological sex- or gender-linked, a shout went up from the parking lot. “Ty!”
Ty’s head snapped up, and he grinned as Ollie vaulted over the two-foot barrier around the parking lot, even though there was an opening three parking spots away. He’d changed out of his rent-a-cop uniform today, and Ty automatically clocked how nice his forearms looked with the sleeves of his henley pushed up. Ollie should never wear that greige monstrosity when a nice burgundy did that for him. Putting him in military OD should’ve been a crime.
“Sorry I’m late.” Ollie shook his head. “Got in trouble yesterday because we’re not supposed to take the uniforms off-site, apparently, so I needed a few more minutes to change.”
“Hey, it’s no problem.” Ty dug the key out of his pocket. He’d chosen a blank with little yellow smiley faces on it and paired it with a miniature plush bear. His dad would’ve hated it. “I could’ve just met you at the house after.”
“Yeah, but I’m late for Theo too, which isn’t great.” He eyed Ty with vague amusement as he held up the key chain, but he didn’t comment on the choice. “The company talked a big talk about work-life balance, but shockingly they’re not walking the walk. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to make it every day before five thirty.”
Nobody who was so concerned with being there for his kid should have to sound so defeated that he couldn’t make it to the school by five thirty. Ty’s dad had eaten dinner with the family maybe once a week and never thought twice about it. At least Ollie wanted to be there. “He can always hang out with me,” Ty offered. “I mean, I can grab him after school and take him home or he can chill and watch baseball practice.” He almost added that he might have to get the kid some antidepressants, but Danny was still there. ADHD medication was good for a lot of things .
Ollie’s face lit up. “Yeah? Oh man, I bet he would dig that. Kid loves baseball. Like, every movie he wanted to watch in the hospital was baseball-themed.” He jerked his thumb toward the building. “I’m gonna go get him and you can ask him yourself.”
What, Ty was going to get credit for this? It wasn’t like he was going out of his way. “Sounds good.”
Henry cleared his throat. “Ollie. Good to see you again.”
Oh… Ty had been kind of hogging him, huh? “Coach Tate.” Ollie shook his hand. “Sorry, I’m a little distracted, but we can catch up soon? I hear there’s a game this week. I gotta go or they’re gonna charge me twenty bucks—”
He jogged off toward the school. Ty maybe watched his ass a little.
“Holy shit, Coach M, is that your boyfriend?” Danny asked, impressed. “He is a snack .”
Henry made a noise like a ticking pressure cooker.
“No, it’s not.” And he is a whole meal, kid. “Aren’t your parents here yet?”
“Oh, I’m riding my bike home.” Danny opened his backpack—which held enough loose paper that Ty thought maybe this kid could use an ADHD diagnosis too—and shoved his glove inside. “See you tomorrow, Coach Tate, Coach M!”
If Ty thought getting rid of Danny would relieve the sense of scrutiny, he was disappointed. He could feel the weight of Henry’s judgy eyeballs on the side of his face. “What?” Ty said testily. He’d kept it together when the kid was in earshot, but now he could feel himself blushing.
“Nah, nothing,” Henry said, all casual, and for a second, Ty thought he was going to get away with it.
Then he added, “Just, if you don’t want people to know how you feel about him, you should probably stop looking at him like he’s your own personal miracle.”
Ty was going to die of embarrassment. “I have known him less than a week .”
Henry slapped his back in encouragement. “I hope you don’t play poker, kid.”
“At least he didn’t call him a DILF,” Ty mumbled.
They walked toward the parking lot. “What’s with the key, anyway?”
Could Henry maybe just have a teeny tiny cardiac event right now so Ty could escape this situation? No, that was an awful thing to think. Ty could have a ministroke instead .
Sadly, no medical emergency materialized. Ty steeled himself. “I told you, I hate that house. It’s huge. I’m not gonna live there alone.”
“No, that would be ridiculous,” Henry agreed mildly. “Why do that when you could move in a DILF you just met and his eight-year-old kid?”
“Friends don’t judge friends, Henry.”
“Of course they do. This is what ‘I told you so’ was invented for. Also beer, which I am making a note to stock up on. I feel like you’re going to need it.”
Fuck it. Ty deserved the ribbing, and at least he had someone to break his fall. “Thanks, Coach.”
OLLIE DIDN’T know what excited Theo more—getting to pick a bedroom from one of seven available or Ty asking if he wanted to be a junior baseball coach.
Theo’s eyes went wide as quarters. “ Really ?”
“Absolutely,” Ty said as though he hadn’t even noticed Ollie’s kid falling head over heels in love with him. “Your dad tells me you’re an expert. And between you and me, we need all the help we can get.” He pushed open the door to yet another bedroom and let Theo wander in to check it out. This one had a double-size four-poster in the same rich dark wood the whole house seemed to be paneled in. Did all that stuff have to be oiled, Ollie wondered? Was it as expensive as it looked? He could probably buy a car for what it cost to panel one room in that stuff.
“Cool. I know a lot about baseball. I can help.” Theo launched himself at the bed. He bounced a few times on the mattress and then proclaimed, “I like this one.” He looked at Ollie. “Is this one okay, Dad?”
He’d picked one several doors farther down than Ollie had hoped. Ollie could switch the bedroom he planned to use, but the one he’d shortlisted was close to the kitchen and had an en suite bath and a mattress that felt like heaven, and he was trying not to suffocate his kid. It was a good sign that Theo felt secure enough to pick his own room. If Ollie had to sneak in at night to listen to him breathe sometimes, they’d all survive. “You sure you’re not going to get lost in that bed?”
Rolling his eyes, Theo whined, “ Dad . ”
God, Ollie was five hundred years old, and he loved his kid with every fiber of his being. “Just checking. It’s my job as your dad.”
He glanced at Ty to include him in the joke, but then he remembered that Ty’s father sucked. But if hanging around with Theo and Ollie made him think about his dad, he was hiding it well, because that smile held nothing but fond amusement. “All right, well, that’s the hard work done. Are we ready for pizza?”
“So ready.”
Ollie thought Theo was going to speed past them both toward the kitchen, but instead he grabbed their hands and dragged them along in his wake.
“I hope you know what you’re getting into,” Ollie said quietly. He might love Theo with all his heart, but he knew he could be a lot.
But Ty only smiled back. “Are you kidding? He’s flying solo. Yesterday I had twenty-five of him at once. I’ll be fine.” When Theo released them to go look out the window for the pizza guy, he added almost bashfully, “I, uh, I think it’s going to be good for me, actually, to have a kid in here who’ll get to be a kid.”
Yeah, Ollie definitely made the right choice moving in here. “I think it’s good for him too. He was really standoffish with my parents, so I was worried at first that he didn’t want to get attached to any adults after what happened with his mom. But I think he just doesn’t know how to have grandparents, or anyone, really. Allison didn’t have any family.”
That was part of why, when she decided she wanted to have a baby, she didn’t go to a sperm bank. She needed someone she knew would be there to step in if something happened to her. She didn’t want her kid growing up in the foster system the way she had.
Ollie should’ve introduced her to his family when they first became friends. Theo could’ve grown up knowing he had a big family who loved him. But by the time Allison asked Ollie to be a donor, he was about to be deployed, and once she was pregnant, it felt like it was too late, like his family would’ve gotten the wrong idea.
All he could do now was move forward.
“Yeah, that’s—”
Something in Ty’s voice brought Ollie veering sharply back to the here and now. Ty looked like he’d seen his own ghost. “What?”
He puffed out a breath that might have been tinged with dark amusement. “I was going to say that’s always hard.” His words didn’t crack, but he hit a hitch on hard , like his throat was trying to close up. “And then I realized how right I was. I mean, I’ve felt alone since my mom died. But now I really am the last.”
Fuck , Ollie was such an insensitive asshole. Just because Ty hadn’t gotten along with his father didn’t mean he didn’t love him, hadn’t held out hope that one day things might get better. “Ty, I’m sorry. That was thoughtless of me.”
It wasn’t what he wanted to say at all. He wanted to say, You’ve got me . But that was insane. They barely knew each other. And hell, probably the only reason Ty did have Ollie and Theo—at least physically—was because his dad had died and he couldn’t face living here alone.
“Don’t,” Ty said. “It’s not like you don’t—let’s not have a pity party.”
Okay. Time to dial back the emotional intensity. “But we already ordered the pizza.”
“I think I still have ice cream left too.”
“Shhh, don’t say that where Theo can hear you.” Not that Ollie wouldn’t let him have ice cream, but if Theo found out about it, Ollie wouldn’t get any.
They exchanged weak, grateful smiles and were interrupted by a whoop of delight as Theo announced the arrival of dinner.
Ollie had paid online, so he let Theo run to the door to get it.
When he was out of earshot, Ty took the opportunity to say, “So listen, there’s something I always wanted to do as a kid and never got the chance, but you’re the parent in the house, so….”
Ollie raised his eyebrows.
“Can we eat pizza and watch a movie?”
Why did Ollie suddenly have visions of someone saying that that furniture was for company , that pizza wasn’t dinner, and that dinnertime was for family—even though he already knew Ty’s dad rarely ate with him growing up?
“Theo’s going to want to watch Moneyball ,” he warned.
Ty beamed. “That’s cool. I haven’t seen that yet.”
“Also….” Ollie gestured expansively around the living room. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed earlier. “You don’t have a TV.”
“Yeah, the old man thought television was for plebs unless the Red Sox were playing. He always watched that in his office. It still reeks like cigars in there, though. I’ll pull the TV out and we can put it in the living room. ”
“You also don’t have a TV stand,” Ollie pointed out.
“So we’ll put the TV on the floor for tonight.”
Now Ollie was starting to get a clearer picture. “And sit in front of it like kids at a sleepover?” he guessed.
From the sheepish expression on Ty’s face, Ollie was right on the money.
The idea felt safe and wholesome and welcoming. It felt fun too, at least in theory, which was removed from the reality of what Ollie’s thirty-two-year-old ass felt like after two hours sitting on the floor. The part of him that was just a guy, that wanted his kid’s approval above everything, the one who’d recently lost the closest friend he’d ever sat on the floor to eat pizza with, wanted to say yes.
Unfortunately, Ollie couldn’t always be that guy. “I don’t think it’s such a good idea.”
Ty’s face fell. “Oh. Yeah, you’re probably right.”
“It’s a school night.” Ollie was not prepared for the way the disappointment in Ty’s voice cut him. Being a dad had made him soft when it came to saying no, apparently—and he wasn’t even saying no. “And I’m not sure he’s going to have time for a movie and homework and unpacking and getting to bed on time.”
“Ohhh,” Ty said again. “I didn’t think of that.”
“But we could do it Saturday night. Maybe with popcorn instead of pizza?” Ollie didn’t want Theo eating a steady diet of takeout. He had barely overcome the urge to feed him nothing but cancer-fighting antioxidants, and that was mostly because he couldn’t subject himself to any more of Theo’s obnoxious broccoli farts.
“Deal,” Ty said. “Can’t wait.”
Strangely, Ollie believed him.
INSTEAD OF heading right to the ball diamond when the elementary school let out on Thursday, Ty swung by the third-grade classrooms to pick up his assistant.
“Ty!”
“Theo!” Ty high-fived him, then leaned down to stage whisper, “It’s Coach M until after practice, okay?”
Theo pushed his glasses up his nose. “Can I be Coach T? ”
Ty considered the odds of the high school kids reacting well to that and decided on probably not. “Tell you what, we’ll workshop it.” He held the door as they walked outside into the sunshine. “So your dad tells me you love baseball.”
“It’s the best.”
“What’s your favorite team?”
“Washington Nationals.”
Well, he grew up in DC, so that made sense, even if they currently weren’t very good. “I guess we can still be friends,” Ty said heavily.
Theo giggled. “What’s yours?”
“Cubs,” he said ruefully. Ty’s team wasn’t doing any better than Theo’s. That was good—it would give them plenty of practice with disappointment for the upcoming high school baseball season. “We can suffer together.”
A trio of girls with red hair passed by, and one of them waved to Theo. Ty had her and the next tallest in his classes, but he didn’t recognize the oldest, except that she was obviously related to the other two. “Friend of yours?”
“Yeah. She’s really cool. She likes baseball almost as much as me.”
“Only almost?”
“Nobody likes baseball as much as me.”
Ty led the way into the dugout, which already held Henry, Danny, Peter, and a few of the other players. “Hey, guys. This is Theo Kent. He’s going to be my assistant today.”
Henry’s side-eye gave a monologue on Ty’s life choices.
“I didn’t know you had a kid, Coach.” Danny held out his hand for a fist bump from Theo. “I’m Danny.”
Theo bumped it seriously.
“Sadly, I’m only borrowing him.” Ty studiously avoided Henry’s gaze as Theo went down the line fist-bumping the rest of the team. When he finished, Ty set him up with a clipboard and a score sheet. “You know how to use one of these?”
He didn’t, so Ty gave him a quick tutorial and then called Henry over. They were doing a mock game today as practice, with the team divided into two groups. He and Henry set the batting order, and then Ty gave the sheet back to Theo, who studied it like there might be a test later .
The team had just finished arriving and Ty and Theo were in the process of decamping to the visitors’ dugout when a woman said, “Theo? Is that you?”
For a moment Theo froze. Then he looked around. Ty guided him out of the teenagers’ way but didn’t let him out of arm’s reach.
The woman who’d spoken was in her late fifties, with curly dark hair and a familiar jawline. Ty could’ve picked her out of a lineup as Ollie’s mother, but Ollie had clearly been right that Theo didn’t know what to do with grandparents, because he half hid himself behind Ty rather than step forward to say hello.
Ty turned to Theo. “Hey, buddy, can you do me a big favor?”
Theo looked up and met his eyes, clutching the clipboard to his chest.
“Can you go into the dugout and let everybody know the batting order? We need to get started with practice.” Henry’s kids were already trickling onto the field to take up their positions.
“Really?”
“Big, loud voice,” Ty told him. He caught Danny’s eye in the dugout and nodded at Theo. Danny would have the kid’s back. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
“Theo—” the woman began again, but Theo was already in the dugout. Danny helped him up onto the bench so the team could see and hear him. Once it became clear she wasn’t going to get what she wanted, she frowned at Ty. “You didn’t have to do that, you know. I’m his grandmother. I’m not going to hurt him.”
“Kinda figured,” he said. “But it looks like he doesn’t know you very well, and I don’t know you at all, and you’re not on the list of approved adults to pick him up.” Which Ty happened to know since Theo was in one of his classes. Ty didn’t normally have to contend with parental pickup, because he didn’t have last-period class, but he’d peeked at Theo’s file in case. “It’s not personal.”
She looked like she wanted to argue, but her better angels prevailed. “No, of course not. I’m sorry. You’re just doing your job. I’d better go pick up his cousin.”
Ty waved her off, unsure how he felt about the victory. Either way, Ollie needed to know about it, but that could wait until they were home.
No, Ty reminded himself, not home . Home was his rooftop Chicago apartment with his herb garden, a short walk from his favorite gastropub and his station in Rogers Park. Home was Ty’s spot on the beat-up couch that Stacey, the fire station captain, refused to get rid of. It was an ambulance with Ty’s initials written on the underside of the back bumper in metal Sharpie. It was a crew of people who got him.
“Hey, Morris! Are you gonna get this show on the road anytime this century?”
Thanks for the reality check, Mr. Chiu , Ty thought darkly. He turned back to the diamond and clapped his hands. “All right, let’s play ball!”