Chapter 4
Chapter Four
“Mommy! A monster!”
Pete went running before he was even awake, heading for someone’s bedroom. He didn’t even know whose until he made it in and found Eric sobbing.
“There’s no monsters.”
“Want MOMMY!”
So did he. Maybe he’d call his, but not right now.
“I’m right here.”
“YOU’RE NOT MOMMY.” Eric was going to wake the entire house and all the neighbors at this rate.
His heart was breaking. “I know, sweetheart. I’m Pete. Let’s go down to the kitchen and have some milk.”
Bay met them in the hallway. “I heard the shouting. Is he okay?”
“Nightmare.”
“Go get Daddy?” Eric begged Bay. “Please?”
Bay crouched down to Eric’s level. “I’m sorry, Eric. I can’t do that—he’s gone.”
“I wanna go too!”
“Eric, please,” Pete begged. “Come downstairs.”
Don’t wake the others up.
Bay shook his head. “No, you have a long wonderful life ahead of you. Let’s go downstairs, yeah? We can talk about it some more.”
“I wanna go see Daddy! Call him, Petey! Call him and tell him for me!”
Pete’s heart couldn’t break any more.
Bay met his eyes and shrugged, clearly unsure what to do, how to fix this.
“You want a snack, Eric?” Bay suggested as they went down the stairs, clearly hoping to distract.
The little boy shook his head, and Pete went to the recliner, opened his arms. “Want to rock a minute?”
“I want Daddy,” Eric said, sniffling, his thumb sneaking up into his mouth.
“Well, I’m here.”
Eric climbed up in his lap, and he sighed and started rocking, completely heartbroken.
“Jesus,” Bay muttered under his breath. “If Tony wasn’t already gone, I’d kill him myself for this.”
“Too soon.” He managed to wink at Bay.
“Those kids deserve better than me,” Bay muttered.
Pete glanced up at him. “That doesn’t matter. We’re who they have, so we’re going to do our best.”
“That was not a slam against you at all. The fact that they have you is a saving grace.”
“I know. This is hard.” And he was scared to death.
Bay nodded, sighed, and settled at one end of the couch. “Would hot milk or something help? Is that actually a thing?”
“Believe it or not, all the kids love it. All of them. I would rather have cocoa.”
“Should I get some for him?” Bay asked, nodding at Eric.
He glanced down, but Eric was nearly asleep again, sucking his thumb. They’d managed to get him to stop doing that two years ago, and it broke his heart to see him going back to it.
He just shook his head.
“Okay. I guess I’ll go back to bed?”
“I…” He nodded, but he really, really wanted company. He wanted to know he wasn’t alone here.
“I don’t have to…” Bay hadn’t gotten up yet.
“I could use a little company, if you’re not desperate to get back to bed.” He could use a friend.
“I’m awake. I can stay up with you.” Bay shrugged. “I’m just not used to feeling so… useless? I know it’s not me the kids want or will turn to when they’re upset. Or for anything, really.”
“Not yet. It won’t take long. They’re very open, as a rule.” And hopefully, they would bounce back from this, too.
“Yeah? I hope so. We’re all stuck with each other now.”
“Yes.”
Bay stared at him. “So, you… do you have a romantic partner? Someone waiting for you?”
“No. No, I haven’t had time for relationships—romantic or otherwise.” He’d been taking care of a family, being a vital part of something that worked.
Bay nodded. “Now that I understand. When you’re focused on your work, other things tend to fall by the wayside.”
“They do, and I love being part of a family.” He’d loved it.
“The kids obviously love you. The provision didn’t need to be made in the will—I totally would have kept you on anyway. It’s clear you belong.”
“I—I do. I love them. They’re my family. I know it’s strange, maybe, but I wasn’t Tony’s employee. I was family.”
“I can see that. I can’t imagine Tony and Cindy believing you were just a ‘servant’. They were great people.”
“They were. They were my best friends.” He began to cry, and he was afraid this time, he wouldn’t be able to stop.
He thought he heard Bay mutter fuck, but then the man came over and gave him awkward pats and a bit of a hug around Eric.
“I’m sorry. I’m all right.” God, he was so embarrassed.
“You’re grieving,” Bay said. “You want me to take Eric back to bed?”
“Please.” He wanted to sink into the ground.
Bay picked Eric up, who whimpered a little and clung onto him like a limpet.
“Shh… you’re okay.”
Pete managed to make it until Bay disappeared before he lost it, crying hard.
At some point, Bay returned, arms wrapping around him.
“I’m sorry…” he whispered, still crying and holding on.
“Shh. You don’t have to say anything. I get it.”
Bay was so kind, and he needed someone to care for him, so badly.
Bay shifted, sitting on the arm of the chair and let him just let it all out.
Finally he sagged, suddenly exhausted, ready to fall asleep, right there. Bay remained quiet, simply holding him and letting him do what he needed to do. Maybe he could sleep. Just for a bit.
Just until his heart stopped hurting.
He had no clue how long he’d actually slept, but the next thing he knew, he was blinking awake to the sun beginning to come up through the window, Bay awkwardly wrapped around him, still mostly on the arm of the big chair.
Jesus, he was stiff enough from sleeping in the chair, Bay was gonna be hurting when he woke up.
“Oh, honey. You’re going to be aching.” He shifted, trying to give Bay more space.
Bay jerked, head coming up. “Huh? What?” He looked around, clearly a little confused and still sleep-addled.
“We fell asleep in the chair,” he explained.
“Oh, right. Damn.” Bay stood and winced, started rolling his head on his neck. “I do not recommend it.”
“Here, let me rub a minute.” He knew enough about massage to help.
“I won’t say no. Where do you want me?”
“Just sit.” He stood and walked around the back of the recliner.
Bay plonked down and dropped his head down onto his chest. He groaned the minute Pete touched his shoulders.
“Oh, you’re so tight. Poor man.” He got into massaging, straight away, digging his thumbs into the tight muscles.
Bay groaned again. “Damn, you’re good at that.”
“I took a couple of massage therapy courses in college.” He liked making people feel better.
“A man of many talents. I must say, I’m glad you have this one.”
“Thank you. I appreciate you being so kind.” He’d needed that last night.
Bay shrugged. “We’re all hurting, right? And you’ve had to be strong for the kids ever since it happened.”
“Yes. They deserve it.”
“Yeah.” Bay sighed. “Everything about this is hard. No matter where you turn.”
“Yes.” He didn’t have any other answer but that.
“Except this,” Bay noted. “This is not hard. At least not on my end. Thank you.”
They were going to have to be friends, he thought. They had years together. “You’re very welcome.”
“I’ll pay you not to stop,” Bay told him.
“This isn’t part of the job,” he teased. “This is person to person.”
“Then I’ll beg you not to stop. My entire back is aching.”
“I imagine. You held me all night.” And it was probably not the smartest thing ever.
“Next time, it would make more sense to do it lying down.”
“Yes.” Wait. Whoa. That was… Oops.
Bay didn’t seem to find anything wrong with it, though, simply groaning again as Pete found a tight knot.
Maybe Bay was just… being kind…
That seemed to make more sense.
He kept working Bay’s muscles, not saying another word, just concentrating on working that knot. When it finally loosened up, Bay muttered, “Oh, fuck.”
“There we go.” He was making a swear jar.
“Damn. I think that’s been hurting me since I got the news. You’re a miracle worker.”
“I just took some classes, but I’m super glad it helped.” He needed to start breakfast, get the kids up and moving for the day.
“It really did. Thank you. I’ve never taken lessons, but I could give it a try if you have some kinks you need worked out,” Bay offered.
“I—could I have a hug? Is that weird to ask for? It’s probably weird, isn’t it?”
Bay stood and opened his arms. “Who cares if it’s weird? You’ve been the only adult here for a days. I get it.”
Pete needed the hug more than he needed to be macho, so he pushed in, soaking up the comfort of another person, just trembling with the effort of holding himself together.
Bay’s arms wrapped around him, bringing him in against a strong body. Bay’s hold tightened, the hug strong, sure.
Finally, Pete relaxed, and he leaned hard. “Thank you.”
Bay grunted something that might have been “You’re welcome,” and just kept holding onto him, giving him the human connection that he so desperately needed.
So he stood there, breathing in and out, and time seemed to stop—maybe he fell asleep, because the next thing he knew, Belle was calling his name.
“Petey! What’s for breakfast?”
“No rest for the wicked, eh?” Bay gave him a wink. “I’m going to get a housekeeper and a cook. I know we have food coming, but it would be easier for both of us with the help.”
“Oh…” Wouldn’t that be amazing? Just a little help. “We can do that?”
“I’m very good at what I do. Money is no object, so we can do whatever the fu-dge we want.”
“Oh, very good.” He started chuckling.
“Petey! What’s for breakfast?” That was Eric.
“French toast?”
“You can make french toast?” Bay asked, looking impressed. “That’s get-it-at-a-restaurant food!”
“Pete makes yummy frenchie toast!” Belle said, making him chuckle.
“I’ll get it started as soon as I check on the babies, okay?”
“French toast at home. How cool is that?” Bay turned to Belle. “You want to show me how to set the table?”
Belle blinked at Bay, then smiled. “Okay. Sure. We need plates. They’re in here. Merida needs the purple plastic one…”
Pete went to check on the babies, finding little Flynn awake, wet, and wanting attention.
Merida was awake, talking away to herself and a sunbeam in her own language.
“Good morning, my beauties. How are you this morning?”
Even in his sorrow, they were lights.
Merida climbed up in her crib and and cried out, “Petey!”
Flynn just gurgled at him.
“Hello, sweetheart! You hungry, pretty girl?”
“Foods!” She wrapped her hands around his neck, holding on as he picked her up.
“Fff!” Flynn cried out.
“I’ve got you both! Don’t worry. No one starves in this house.”
He carried them downstairs to find that Bay and Belle had managed to set the table for all of them, special plates and all.
Merida waved at Bay, offered him a smile.
Bay looked surprised but smiled and waved back at her. “Good morning.”
“Mornin’!” She laughed, that little girl so happy just to be.
Bay chuckled. “Are you hungry? Apparently we’re having french toast.”
“Yay!” That was Eric.
He put Flynn in his highchair with a handful of Cheerios and a cut-up banana, then he got out the eggs and the milk.
“Can I do anything to help?” Bay asked. “Keeping in mind that I don’t cook.”
“Can you pour four milks? One in a bottle, one in a sippy cup, two in regular cups.”
“Sure.” Bay got to work, pouring milk out and putting the cups and bottle on the table.
Pete set to making breakfast—soaking the bread, heating the pan. He’d started actually cooking the toast when he realized Bay was standing nearby, leaning against the counter and simply watching him.
“How many pieces do you think you’d like?”
“Two sounds about right. Have we got maple syrup and butter? I can put them out while you’re cooking.”
“We do. That would be great, but—” He lowered his voice. “Keep them over here or we’ll have a syrup explosion.”
One of Bay’s eyebrows went up. “Explosion?” he asked, just as quietly.
“Uh… tsunami?” he tried.
Bay’s quirked eyebrow turned into a frown. “What?”
“You remember how yummy and pure sugar maple syrup was when you were a kid? How easy it was to pour out the whole can?” Surely Bay hadn’t been the perfect child.
“Um… oh!” Bay looked over at the kids, nodded. “Why didn’t you just say it got messy?”
He tilted his head. “Because we don’t want anyone’s feeling hurt.”
“Huh. Okay. I guess that makes sense.” Bay found the butter in it’s container on the counter and looked through the pantry, coming back to set the maple syrup bottle down next to the butter. “So do you apply it here for everyone, then?”
“That’s the safest answer, yes.” And he always defaulted to the safest answer.
“Okay. I guess I should bring the plates back then.” Bay went over to the table and gathered all the plates but Flynn’s and brought them over. “I assumed Flynn was good with what he had.”
“Absolutely. It’s excellent to have Belle help you, though. She’s a little lost.”
“It made my life easier, and I can keep having her help, too. Hey, Belle, when Pete’s finished cooking the pancakes, can you remind me who gets which plate again, please?”
“Uh-huh, but Uncle, Petey’s making french toasts.” She blinked at him, wide-eyed.
“Oh, that’s right. Thank you for reminding me.”
She giggled softly. “I’ll help you with the plates.”
“Cool. The only thing I remember is Merida gets the purple plate.”
“That’s because she is the little girl and she might throw her plate.”
“Huh. I had assumed it was because purple was her favorite color.” Bay tapped the plate. “What do you know, it’s plastic.”
She nodded, the expression knowing. “It is!”
“Cool. How long ’til those are ready, Manny Pete?” Bay asked him, stomach growling as if on cue.
“First ones are coming off! Second ones are five minutes behind.”
“Kids first, I’m assuming. Do any of them need to be cut for them?” Look at Bay, picking up on what the kids might need.
“Yes, please,” Belle piped up. “And I like lots of maple syrup.”
“Me too!” Eric cried.
“You guys don’t like french toast, do you?” Bay teased.
“Yes!” Belle laughed, and Flynn tossed a piece of banana in the air.
Bay smiled, and between that and the way his hair was all over the place, he looked younger, reminded him more of Tony.
It hurt because Tony had literally been his best friend—had been for years. All of his adult life. He didn’t know what to think about that, so he focused on french toast.
He focused on feeding kids, loving kids, cleaning and teaching, just managing the basics. Any extra things could happen later.