Chapter 23
Danny
“How’d it go?” I gazed into Rob’s eyes as I waved goodbye over my shoulder to Anthony who drove away.
Rob just kind of stared.
I put my arm around him and guided him into the house.
Today had been a court proceeding. He wouldn’t talk to me about it ahead of time—had just said Anthony was driving him up to LA, and he’d be home as soon as they could. A bad accident had snarled traffic on the 5, and he was now coming home in near-darkness.
The kids were already in bed. And, given how shell-shocked he looked, I wasn’t certain that was a bad thing. “Come into the kitchen. Have you eaten? There’s leftover stew.” Mama had sent another massive care package.
Like I wasn’t perfectly capable of cooking meals. Like Rob wasn’t.
Still, I wasn’t going to deprive her of her joys. I’d known today would be a rough day, so I’d thawed the stew.
I guided Rob to the chair, and he slumped as I headed to the fridge. I poured him a glass of cold water, for once wishing I had something stronger to give him. I didn’t drink, obviously, and neither did he. He said he didn’t like to lose control. I had a liver to protect. We made a good pair that way.
And in so many other ways.
I put a bowl of stew in the microwave and waited impatiently to it to heat. I’d eaten already. Early on, I’d discovered Hallie didn’t want to eat if I didn’t join her.
Thomas totally didn’t care.
Putting a finger on Hallie’s thinking had eluded me, but she ate when I ate and therefore, we ate together. Secretly, I wondered if it was a Gerard thing. Or just a wanting to feel seen thing. Or…I hadn’t brought it up with Rob. I should have, given Hallie was still in counseling. I’d seen huge improvements with her. With reading, certainly, but also confidence in asking for what she wanted. For asserting herself. Almost never in a rude way—her manners were well ingrained. It’d taken the dog of a lifetime to shake them. Trouble—excuse me, Drizella—was Hallie’s shadow, and the gentle love of the little girl for that bouncy dog was sweet to see.
Unlike Thomas, who was a typical one-year-old, and had neither manners nor ingrained gentleness yet. Growing by leaps and bounds every day. I loved snapping a picture of him and sending it to Rob while he worked. Something to keep us all connected. I sent plenty of pictures of Hallie as well, but she wasn’t as enamored with having her photo taken. Except if I said, “Help Drizella pose for a photo for Papa.” That she would do. I had a feeling most of Rob’s photos of Hallie for the next decade would have dog fur in her face.
Tonight, the dog was in Hallie’s bed, warding off nightmares. Rob said they’d vastly decreased with her at Hallie’s side. Which left me to take care of the man himself.
The microwave beeped. Gingerly, I carried the bowl to Rob. Then I added a spoon and, finally, sat down next to him.
“I…” He gazed at me through glassy eyes.
“Eat first.”
He looked down at his bowl, scrunched his nose, and sighed. But then, to my relief, he picked up his spoon and started to slowly eat the stew.
I sipped my water, patiently waiting. We had all night. “Hey, do you want a roll? I started to rise. “I baked a batch?—”
“How do you do it?” He indicated I should sit back down.
I did. Then I cocked my head. “Do what?”
“Bake?” He rubbed his forehead. “I can barely take care of the kids, and…” He winced.
I placed my hand over his. “Where is this coming from? I bake after the kids have gone to bed and while I’m studying. I can multitask, much to Whitney’s annoyance. She just forgets what she’s baking and it burns. It’s all about the alarms.” I tried for a smile.
He didn’t return it.
“Rob.”
Finally, he met my gaze.
“You’re exhausted when you get home. You barely get enough sleep to survive, and then you’ve got kids to deal with all day. You do the shopping, the cleaning, much of the cooking?—”
“Some.”
I glared.
He glared back.
“Right. And then you go back to work.”
“Danny, you’ve got school and homework and you do all the stuff around here. Plus I’m sure you do stuff at James’s…”
I twitched my nose.
He frowned.
“Well, his argument is that they’re paying a cleaner anyway, so the guy might as well do my apartment and get paid more.”
“Oh.”
“Right. And then James says he’s cooking for two, so why not for three?”
“Oh.”
“And they both know how much time I’m spending here, so they want to make life easier for me.” I scratched my belly under my T-shirt. “Look, I don’t want to be beholden to them for the rest of my life. But right now…” I sort of nodded. “This is what Colin needs. He’s buying me a new car, electric, and he’s thrilled I’m giving you mine?—”
“Danny, you’re nuts.” He might’ve whisper-hissed that.
“Oh.” I grinned. “I forgot to tell you, right? It’s not the greatest of cars. Leticia’s when she first got married. A million years ago?—”
“Don’t let her hear you say that.”
“Truth.” I waved him off. My sister had a sense of humor about the differences in our ages—she being the eldest and me being the youngest. “So, like I didn’t even pay for it. But I’ve treated it well, and she’s got a few good years left. You’re doing me a favor. Now I don’t have to find someone to buy it. That would’ve just been a hassle.”
“No one in the three hundred and ten relatives?”
I guffawed. Quietly. “Uh, no. By the time Mel’s old enough, it’ll be too late. You need one. No one else does.”
“You can’t keep doing things for me.”
“Sure I can. That’s what friends are for.”
“Friends don’t give friends cars.”
“Who says?” I gave him faux indignation. “Friendship means whatever we want it to mean.” Slowly, I eased my hand so I wrapped it around his.
He shivered.
“You going to tell me what happened in LA?”
Those luminous gray eyes shimmered. “Not yet.”
“Well, I want to kiss you and make it better.”
He managed a watery laugh.
“And maybe you’ll let me do something else?”
“Do I want to know?”
“I can be very creative.”
Hours later, after an epic kissing make-out session on the couch, he allowed me to gather him in my lap.
“This can’t possibly be comfortable.” He rested his head against my shoulder.
I’d learned, from more than a month being with him, that he tended to open up more when we weren’t looking each other in the eye. One of his quirks. Whether because of his experience with his family, Gerard, or both, I couldn’t be sure.
Mama was more you look at me when we’re working through shit, so this felt like evasiveness to me. But it worked for him, and I was willing to do it tonight if I might get some answers. While Daddy would take us out in the car to talk, Mama wanted you at the table and looking her in the eye. That hadn’t always been comfortable, and had been really hard for James, but we loved Mama and did what she wanted. I wouldn’t let her push Rob and the kids around, though. “I’m comfortable.” I wrapped my arms around him and tucked his mussed hair against my cheek. “Share what you can.”
“I went before a Family Court judge.” His voice wobbled.
“What happened?” I didn’t want to assume it was bad, even as he shook in my arms.
“She asked me a lot of questions. About my life with Gerard, about my life before…Wynn said she was trying to get a sense of whether I was a fit parent.”
“Did someone say you weren’t?”
“Gerard.”
“Son of a bitch.”
“Yeah. But Wynn argued that the word of a man accused of two assault charges shouldn’t carry much weight.”
I’d yet to meet Wynn, but he sounded like a great lawyer. And he was handling Rob’s case pro bono. “And?”
“And she asked me a lot of questions. Like how I was raising the kids. And did I have help…?”
I waited.
“I told her I did. I said my best friend was helping me raise them. Would watch over them when I was at work. Was helping Hallie with her reading lessons. I said Hallie was reading at a grade three level and she was in counselling. I told her Thomas was running around and smiling all the time. I told her we had a dog named Drizella?—”
“Oh, I bet that went over well?—”
“—who Hallie had named. And how the kids loved the dog and the dog clearly loved them.” He rubbed his face. “Wynn showed her all the pictures you’d taken. And of our house. Of the life we’ve built here. I said I didn’t need a mansion. Didn’t want a mansion. Just wanted my kids to be happy.” His voice broke on that.
I was afraid to ask, but I did anyway. “What did the judge say?”
“That she could see how happy we were. How she’d make sure the divorce went through in six months. And how she’d make sure I got everything I was due.” He sniffed. “Wynn says he’d like to be there when you and James get the kids’ stuff. The judge said she was fine with that.” He hiccupped. “And Wynn said Gerard’s pleading guilty to the assaults and is looking at jail time. The judge today issued a restraining order. She said I can ask to have it rescinded if I want to, in the future, and I promised her I never would. She also said I should petition to have him stripped of his parental rights because he’ll be convicted of a felony.”
“Oh, thank God. I hoped you would.”
Finally, Rob tilted his head up to look at me.
“I’d been doing research into what was involved. But I didn’t want to say anything because it’s got to be your decision.”
“Well, once his conviction is confirmed, Wynn said he’ll start the paperwork. So it’ll be a done deal. He’ll never have rights to the kids again. They’ll never be forced to see him. We can just move on.” Again, he shuddered.
So I pulled him even closer. “Talk to me.”
“I just…how can it be over? How can it be that simple?”
“Because sometimes the good guys win. And gals. Folks. Sometimes the good folks win. Sometimes it’s okay for things to go your way. Sometimes it’s okay to be—gasp—happy.”
Another sniff. “That’s not me, Danny. That’s not my life.”
“But do you want it to be for Hallie and Thomas?”
He reared back to face me. “Of course.”
“Then it’s okay for it to be that way for you as well. You can protect them from all the shit out there and still be happy. And happiness is all relative. If you’re living your best life, and showing them that, then you’ve done your job as a parent. Mama and Daddy fought over the years, Rob. Believe it or not, our lives weren’t always sunshine and roses.”
“I have trouble believing that.”
I chuckled. “Yeah…I admit those times were few and far between, but we did have rough patches. But we came together as a family to push through. We believed in each other…supported each other. Held things together. Like when Felicia had a miscarriage. When Martin didn’t make the NBA, despite being a fucking awesome college player. When Gracie had her heart broken by the first girl she ever brought home…”
“And you?” He gazed up at me.
“Well…” I looked upward, searching my memories. “I came out about the same time as my brother who was seven years older. And by then Gracie was out. Life was interesting with three queer kids in the house. Mama and Daddy didn’t give a shit, but some of our extended family members got all uppity.” I smiled. “Which is why we had fewer people at the wedding than might’ve otherwise been. And they’re not missed.”
“My parents?—”
“I know.”
He swallowed. “I had an aunt. Have,” he corrected. “I want to write to her. To send her pictures of the kids. But I’m scared…”
“I’m certain my cybersecurity brother could probably track down a way for you to safely contact her. I assume you’re worried about her safety?”
“Yeah.”
“Let’s see what James can do. Mama could always write—a grandmother to an aunt.”
“She’d do that?”
Clearly the wheels were turning. “Sure, if you asked her. If you want to just send pictures of the kids without too much detail, Mama could do that. We have a PO Box in Huntington Beach.”
“I’d really like that. I miss her. Even just knowing she’s okay?—”
“Let me see what I can do.” I rubbed my hand up and down his arm, trying to create some friction. “You’re tired.”
As if on cue, he yawned. “Yeah, I kind of am.” He fidgeted.
Pressing his ass against my groin. How many nights had I left here verging on blue balls? We only ever just kissed. His hand never strayed below the waist and so mine didn’t either. He had to be the one to make the first move.
Although, if he kept rubbing against me, my cock was going to become interested. It had been earlier, like always, but when Rob ended the kisses, it’d become clear to me he was ready to talk. So I’d ignored my hard-on and had instead focused on what I could do for him. Whatever he needed from me. Which was, apparently, talking.
“Why don’t I get you into bed?” I hugged him tight. “You need a good night’s sleep.”
“Will you stay?” He didn’t meet my gaze.
Gently, I tipped his chin up so our eyes locked. “What are you asking?”
His eyes widened. “Oh no. Not that. Like…”
Since I was afraid he might say not ever, I offered a smile. “Whatever works, Rob.”
“Maybe…cuddle?”
We cuddled frequently, so I assumed I knew what he wanted. I loved when I embraced him tightly. “In your bed?”
“Yeah.”
“That I can do.”
I hadn’t envisioned sleeping in my jeans that night, but, as I held Rob tight—and he drifted off to sleep—I had zero regrets.