Chapter 12 Nate
NATE
Kelly’s house was chaos.
A plastic tricycle lay on its side in the front yard. The garden beds were more weeds than flowers. A welcome mat near the front door read “Hope You Brought Wine,” and a pair of tiny rain boots sat beside it, one upright, one toppled over.
I liked it immediately.
Scott opened the door before I’d made it up the path, Isla propped on one hip, a dish towel slung over his shoulder. “Nate! Right on time. Come in.”
The inside matched the outside, with toys scattered across the living room and a basket of unfolded laundry on the couch.
And there was Jasper, lying on his stomach on the floor, his chin in his hands, watching a dinosaur cartoon.
Scott tilted his head. “Kel’s in the kitchen. I’ve just gotta change Isla. Be right back.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Kelly’s voice carried down the hall. “Is that my brother or the pizza guy? Because honestly, I’d be excited about either.”
“It’s me,” I replied, making my way to the kitchen.
“Damn. No pizza then.”
I found her at the stove, stirring something in a big pot, her hair pulled back in a messy bun. She looked over her shoulder and smiled. “Hey, you. Grab a beer and stay out of my way. This sauce is at a critical stage.”
“Wouldn’t dream of interfering.”
I pulled a bottle from the fridge and cracked it open, taking a long pull.
“Now go hang in the living room,” Kelly waved her spoon toward the hall. “Scott’ll be with Isla for a little bit and dinner’s not far off. Fair warning, Jasper’s deep into a dinosaur show in there. If you sit down, you will be told things.”
“I can handle it.”
“You say that now.”
Jasper looked up when I walked in, eyeing me warily as I lowered myself onto the couch.
I had no fucking clue what to say to him. How did you make conversation with a three-year-old who barely knew who you were?
Desperate for inspiration, I zeroed in on a pile of plastic dinosaurs on the carpet near my feet and reached for one. “Hey, so, uh, this guy looks a bit scary.”
“He’s a T-Rex.”
“Amazing.”
“He eats people.”
“Oh, not so amazing.” I grabbed another one. “And what about this one?”
He scooted a little closer. “That’s a steggy.”
“He doesn’t look too scary. What does he eat?”
“Leaves.”
“I see.”
Sliding his butt across the floor, he was almost at my feet, reaching for another dinosaur, holding it up for my inspection.
“I like that one. What does he—”
Suddenly, he shoved the plastic toy in my face and let out a loud “ROAR!”
I pretended to jump with fright, laying my hand over my heart. “You scared me!”
A giggle burst out of him, then he did it again, shoving the dinosaur at my knee this time with another roar.
I clutched my chest. “Oh no, he got me!”
The giggles turned into full-body laughter. He scrambled upright and reached for more dinosaurs, clearly intent on terrifying me to death one plastic reptile at a time.
“Dinner!” Kelly called from the kitchen.
Jasper froze mid-roar, looked at me, looked at his dinosaurs, and grabbed two fistfuls before heading for the dining room. I followed, biting back a smile.
At the table, Jasper insisted on sitting next to me. He also insisted on showing me his food, holding up a piece of fettucine on his fork for my strict inspection.
“This one looks like a snake,” he announced.
“Let’s see.” I leaned over to examine the pasta in question. “Yeah, that’s definitely a snake.”
“I’m gonna eat him.” He did, complete with aggressive chewing sound effects.
“Good job, bud.”
We survived the rest of the meal with minimal casualties, mostly just catching up on Scott’s new job and the general chaos of raising two tiny humans.
After dinner, Scott took Jasper off to get changed, while Kelly wrestled Isla out of the highchair. The baby was fussy, squirming and red-faced, working up to something that sounded like it was going to be loud.
“Here.” Kelly crossed to me, placing Isla into my arms before I could react. “Hold her for a sec. I need to grab her bottle.”
I froze.
She was so small. Warm and surprisingly heavy for something that tiny, with a scrunched-up face and fists that immediately grabbed at my shirt. I held her like she was made of glass, one hand under her head, the other supporting her body, my arms locked rigid.
“You can relax,” Kelly called from the fridge. “She won’t break.”
“You sure about that?”
“Mostly. Just hold her close to your chest.”
I loosened my grip and drew her in against me. She squirmed, letting out a disgruntled whimper, so I shifted her higher on my chest and laid my hand across her back the way I’d seen Kelly do it, patting her tiny back. After a few seconds the squirming eased.
She blinked up at me with big, dark eyes, her mouth working around a silent complaint. Then she grabbed a fistful of my shirt and pulled herself closer, tucking her face against my neck.
I adjusted my hold, shifting her weight slightly, and her eyes fluttered closed.
“Oh.” Kelly stopped beside me, bottle in hand, and her expression softened. “Well. Look at that.”
“She’s just tired,” I said.
“Mm hm.” Kelly’s mouth curved. “Sure. That’s what it is. I think you’ll be good for a few minutes while I go put some washing on.”
She set the bottle on the table and left me sitting there with a sleeping baby on my chest. Something stirred inside me, something I didn’t have a name for.
Jasper trotted back in, peering at Isla, then at me, then at Isla again.
“Baby sleeping,” he whispered, loud enough to wake half the street.
“Yeah. She is.”
He clumsily patted Isla’s foot, then let out a massive yawn.
Scott appeared in the doorway. “Come on, Jas. Bedtime. Say goodnight to Uncle Nate.”
“Night, Uncle Nate.”
“Good night, buddy.”
Jasper padded over to be scooped up, his head instantly dropping onto his dad’s shoulder. As they turned down the hall, he lifted one small hand to wave.
I waved back, catching his sleepy grin just before he faded out completely.
A few minutes later, Kelly returned and expertly eased Isla from my chest. The baby barely stirred against her mother’s shoulder.
“I’ll put her down,” Kelly said softly. “Grab another beer. The back porch is nice right now, if you want some air.”
“Sounds good.”
The porch was small. Two chairs, a citronella candle that had burned down to a stub, and a view of the backyard that was mostly grass and a swing set. I settled into one of the chairs with a fresh beer and let the quiet settle around me.
I tipped my head back and closed my eyes.
Moments later, the screen door creaked. Kelly dropped into the chair beside me, her own beer in hand. She tucked her feet under her and took a long sip, staring out at the yard.
The silence felt loaded, making me restless.
“Thanks for coming tonight.” She said it simply, but there was something underneath. A carefulness.
“Thanks for having me.”
She picked at the label on her bottle. Peeled a strip, smoothed it back down.
“I’m glad you’re back, Nate.” She paused. The label strip came off again. “I know that probably sounds weird, since we haven’t exactly been... I mean, we’ve talked, but it’s not the same as...”
She trailed off, clearly frustrated with herself. Dragging in air, she tried again.
“I should have tried harder, while you were away, is all I’m trying to say. I kept telling myself I’d call more, visit when you were stateside, and then I just... didn’t. And I’m sorry about that.”
The apology caught me off guard. “Kel, you don’t have to...”
“Yeah, I do.” She flicked me a glance, her gaze uncertain, like she was expecting me to be mad.
I wasn’t.
“It goes both ways,” I said. “I wasn’t exactly picking up the phone either.”
She nodded slowly, accepting that. Another silence. The crickets filled it.
Then, quieter: “Can I tell you something?”
Something in her tone had my guard shooting right up. “Yeah, okay.”
She kept her eyes on the yard, on the swing set, on the safe middle distance.
“We don’t let Mom and Dad babysit.”
The urge to stand, to move, to get the hell away from wherever this conversation was heading surged through me so hard my feet shifted on the porch boards. But Kelly was already talking again, and something in the fragile way she held herself kept me in that chair.
“It’s not Mom, really. She’s... she is what she is.” She took a long sip of beer and set the bottle down carefully on the arm of her chair. “Checked out. Oblivious on purpose. But Dad...” Her throat moved. “It’s Jasper. The way Dad is with him.”
My hand tightened around my bottle.
“With Isla, he’s nothing. Barely looks at her, which, fine.
He’s never been fussed on girls. But Jasper.
..” She pulled her knees up, wrapping her arms around them, making herself small.
“He’s three, Nate. He’s loud and messy and he doesn’t sit still, and every time Dad’s around him, I can see it.
That look. The one where he’s... measuring.
Cataloguing every little thing Jasper does wrong. ”
The evening sounds faded. There was nothing but my sister’s voice and the blood pounding in my ears.
“Last Thanksgiving, Jasper knocked over a glass of water at the table. It was clearly an accident. But Dad grabbed his arm.” Her voice went thin. “Not hard, like he didn’t leave a mark or anything. But it was the way he did it. And, um, the look on his face… You know the one.”
I sure fucking did.
She swallowed heavily before continuing. “Scott didn’t see, and of course Mom pretended not to. But I saw.”
The beer bottle in my hand threatened to shatter under my crushing grip. I forced my fingers to relax and set the glass down on the arm of the chair, very carefully.
“So that was it. I told Scott that night, and we agreed. No more. I don’t care if it causes a rift, I don’t care if Mom guilt-trips me about it forever.
” Her chin lifted, and for a second, the uncertainty was gone, replaced by something fierce and absolute.
“He’s not getting near my kids like that. Not ever.”
The yard blurred at the edges. I blinked it clear.
The fierceness drained from her face as quickly as it had come, leaving her looking exposed and unsure.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know if you want to hear this. I don’t even know if I should be telling you. It’s just... you’re the only person who’d understand why it scares me so much.”
Because I’d been Jasper. Loud and messy and constantly in motion. Except there’d been no one to step in front of me the way Kelly was stepping in front of her son.
“You did the right thing.” My voice came out rough, scraped raw.
Her eyes filled. She pressed her lips together hard and nodded, once.
I reached over and took her hand. She gripped it tight, her fingers cold from the beer bottle, and we sat like that for a long time, watching the last light fade from the sky.