Chapter 12 #2
“Yes, of course. I have all the safety equipment. And bikes, come spring. Like Gideon, I live on a dead-end street. I want to teach the kids the rules of the road. That feels essential to me.”
“Because you’re a good dad.” He reached out to grasp my hand.
I didn’t pull back.
“Go easier on yourself. Be the best parent you can be.”
My phone buzzed with an incoming text. I checked the screen and read the urgent message. I rose. “Have to go.”
“Do you want me to wrap your sandwich and bring it to your office?”
I grabbed one of his French fries, dunked it in ketchup, then shoved it into my mouth. I shook my head. “Thanks anyway.” And then I was off.
The triple bypass surgery was successful, and the young guy was going to make it. I saved the stern lecture about his eating habits for another day as his wife was in a panic and needing to see him.
Their three young children were at home with grandparents.
Not just bad eating habits, though. The guy had a genetic predisposition to the accumulation of plaque in his arteries. He had a long road to recovery ahead of him, and major lifestyle changes if he was going to remain healthy.
I was exhausted when I hit the house. As I sat at the table, eating a tuna sub sandwich, my phone buzzed.
Did the patient take a turn? Do I need to go back? Did I screw up the surgery?
Nope. A picture of Melodie, Trevor, and Gideon lying in the snow making snow angels.
Logically, Archer was taking the picture.
My first worry was for Gideon’s back. Yet he said physiotherapy was really helping. Some miracle worker in town.
My second thought was this photo was taken during the day. Did Archer not have to work? This time of year, I drove to work in the dark and often that same darkness had fallen before I started my journey home.
I need to get out more with the kids during the day. So hopefully sledding would be a possibility.
My third thought—which was really more of an impulse—was to text Quinton.
—Want to come sledding on Saturday? If there’s still snow? —
As soon as I hit Send, I regretted the action. Inviting him here? To meet the kids? He’d just be a friend of Papa’s, but what if they mentioned Quinton to Gideon? They would, of course. And sure, we were platonic now—but we hadn’t been in the not-so-distant past.
Two weeks. You were with him carnally two weeks ago.
You want that again.
Like, right now.
I adjusted myself. Well, that wasn’t going to happen. I rose from the table, grabbed a plastic container, and put the second half of the sub in there. For lunch tomorrow. Or dinner tomorrow night, if I forgot to grab it on the way out—which I often forgot to do.
My phone buzzed.
Cautiously, I read.
—Sounds perfect. I’m working the night shift and so totally can see you three. What time? —
I couldn’t figure out how to answer that. You initiated this. Pull up your big boy pants and give him a response.
—Two? Then stay for dinner? —
He responded immediately.
—I’ll bring home-baked cookies. —
I stood there, watching the screen go dark. Then I continued to stare. I should probably let Gideon know. That’s the adult thing to do. After all, I’d want to know. So I sent a text.
—Remember Quinton? He’s coming to see me Saturday. While the kids are here. He’s bringing cookies. I hope that’s okay. —
I shouldn’t have needed to ask his permission. But the men had obviously formed some kind of friendship. Plus, Gideon and Archer needed to know I knew Quinton. To ensure their discretion.
Or at least I hoped.
My phone rang. Well okay, then. “Hey, Gideon.”
“I didn’t realize you knew Quinton.” No hint of how he was feeling. A long time ago, I would’ve known. Today? Complete mystery to me.
“Long story. We work together at the hospital. He mentioned you attended his party.”
A pause. Then, “Did he know who we were on Saturday?”
“Is there a right way to answer that?”
He blew out a breath. “I would’ve been…more cautious.”
“You can be yourself, Gideon. You don’t need to censor yourself on my account. I mean, unless you’re telling everyone what a jackass I am.” Please don’t be doing that.
“Jesus, Leo. I thought you knew me better than that.”
Shame heated my cheeks. Of course I knew him better than that. He’d been honest with Archer—but truly just in the privacy of their home. And, l could be certain he’d been honest with his therapist. “I do. Just…we went through a rough time. I should’ve been more compassionate—”
“Water under the bridge. Or whatever that expression is. Your stance led me to find a way to live with the chronic pain. Allowed me the courage to…Archer…”
Clearly, he was floundering.
“To fall in love again.”
A long silence.
“Yeah, that.”
“I’m happy for you, Gideon.”
“So you’ve said.”
“And it’s true.”
He let out a sigh. “Yeah. Thank you.” He chuckled. “You and Quinton, eh?”
“We’re just friends.” Said as quickly as I could.
“He’s a good guy, Leo. Throws great parties, but also seems really nice. You could do worse.”
“I’m not looking.”
“I wasn’t either. Love—” He swallowed. “Sometimes you don’t have any say in the matter. I choose to try to live without regrets. It’s not always easy, though.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I’m not asking for contrition, Leo. We both made choices. We both have to live with the consequences. As long as neither of us is bitter—and neither says anything negative to the children—then I think we’ll do okay. We were once best friends. I hope one day we’ll be that again.”
I wanted to tell him that we were still friends. But a shit ton of crap had happened. I was only just learning to trust him again. Clearly, he was still sorting out his complicated feelings for me. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure. Say hi to Quinton for us. And thank you for letting me know. You didn’t have to…I appreciate that you did.”
“Goodnight, Gideon.”
“Goodnight, Leo.”
He cut the line.
I stood motionless for a very, very long time.