Chapter 10
COOPER
“Got back late last night,” Dad said, startling me so that I banged my shoulder on the raised hood of the little lime green Mazda I was working on this morning and dropped the wrench in my hand.
I knew I couldn’t have gotten back in unnoticed after being out so long, but the fact that no one had mentioned it at breakfast had lured me into a false sense of security that at least it wasn’t going to be a topic for discussion.
“Sorry for leaving you to put Benji to bed,” I said, rubbing at my shoulder and crouching down to grab the wrench from where it’d rolled a few inches under the car.
“We volunteered,” Dad responded. I didn’t have to look at him to hear the shrug in his voice. “Nice night?”
Heat prickled up the back of my neck, rising to the tips of my ears. When I was younger, I’d grown my hair out to hide the way they went bright red when I was embarrassed. These days, it was easier to keep it short, so my only hope was that it was too dark in the shop for Dad to see it.
“Uh…”
“You’ve been humming to yourself since you got in this morning,” Dad continued.
Oh. Had I?
Dad hummed a few bars of a song I immediately recognized.
“Spandau Ballet?” he said, brow raised.
Yeah. That was it. I could see how I’d gotten from Felix to there, which made it a little damning.
“It’s a nice morning.” I looked back at the car as, tapping my wrench against the coolant tank. Which Dad would know didn’t count as working on it.
If my ears actually caught fire, I wouldn’t be all that surprised right now.
Dad snorted. “Coop, I may be old, but I’m not stupid. Or blind, yet.”
I risked a glance at him. It wasn’t as though my dad didn’t know I was gay, and it wasn’t as though he’d ever given any indication that made him love me any less—or that he thought much about it at all, really—but I couldn’t help the squirming feeling in the pit of my stomach, as though I’d been caught doing something wrong.
It wasn’t because Felix was a man. It was because Felix was anyone at all. I didn’t—
“Benji went to bed just fine,” Dad continued.
“He was exhausted from the excitement and dropped right off halfway through a story I was telling him about ballet-dancing cowboys who rode dinosaurs, which is a shame, because I think I really had a good one going there. He didn’t even ask me any questions about it. ”
My lips twitched. I’d always loved Dad’s bedtime stories.
“It’s okay that you did something for yourself,” Dad said, voice gentle.
The knot in the pit of my stomach released so suddenly I was glad I had a grip on the Mazda’s front bumper. I hadn’t quite realized that was what was bothering me, but now that Dad had said it aloud—and told me it was okay—I could see why I’d been so reluctant to have it mentioned.
I turned to look at him, drawing a breath that felt like the first one that’d filled my lungs all morning.
“I had a nice night,” I admitted. Nice didn’t begin to cover it. I’d walked home after midnight, grinning like an idiot up at the sky and laughing to myself.
It’d been a long time since I’d felt like that. As though my chest was full of warm cotton wool, as though I could’ve reached out and plucked one of the stars out of the sky and tucked it in my pocket.
I couldn’t have said what it was about Felix, but something about him was magnetic. Not just that, but when I was around him, I felt… content. Settled.
It was a strange feeling, especially with someone I’d only known a handful of days. All the same, there was no point pretending I didn’t feel it.
It was a crush, I figured. Nothing more complicated than that. Now that I wasn’t fifteen anymore, crushes were fun. That was all.
Dad broke into a warm smile, his crow’s feet deepening. “Good. You deserved it.”
Did I?
“Coop,” Dad added, voice suddenly sterner.
“Let me say that again so it sinks in. You deserved it. More than that, you need it. You’ve been there for Benji every minute he’s needed you, and that’s a good thing.
You’re a good boy for that. But he can’t be the only thing in your life forever.
He’ll grow up, and then you won’t have anything. ”
“I’ve got this.” I waved my wrench around the shop. “More than enough to keep anyone busy.”
“This is work,” Dad said. “Not life.”
I wasn’t sure how to respond to that.
Thankfully, the sound of the door squealing open saved me from having to think up a response.
“Coop!” Benji called out, coming at me in a blur of limbs and hurling himself at my legs, throwing his arms around them.
The smile I gave him was automatic and wide enough to make my face pull. He was my life. I didn’t regret that. I loved him so much.
He was enough.
“Hey, buddy,” I said, ruffling his hair as Mom came around the corner of the Mazda, holding a promising box in her hands.
It was one of the cardboard ones she’d bought in bulk years ago that came out when she baked something and was planning to gift it to someone—so this box wasn’t for me or Dad, but there was always extra.
The scent of baked goods wafting from it made my mouth water and my stomach remind me that finishing Benji’s cereal and orange juice before dropping him off at school wasn’t exactly the breakfast of champions. “Behaving yourself?”
“I got a sticker!” Benji enthused, holding the collar of his little plaid shirt out for inspection. On it was a little round sticker with a cartoon lion and the words you should be proud written around it in glittery letters.
“Oh yeah?” I asked, setting down my wrench to pick him up and set him on my hip. He was getting heavy, but I’d be giving piggybacks for a few years yet. One advantage of being tall enough to scrape some doorways—I’d always be able to lift Benji, if he wanted me to.
A flush of heat rose to my ears again as I thought about picking people up.
Felix had told me in the shower that it was really hot that I could do it, so I’d done it again while he got his hand around both of us.
We’d gone slower the second time, moving together in a lot less of a hurry, kissing and kissing and kissing and only parting to breathe.
I could not be thinking about that with Benji in my arms and both of my parents looking at me. I shoved the thought aside, banishing the remembered feel of Felix’s skin under my hands, or how blue his eyes had been in the cool light of the bathroom.
“What’d you do for that?” I asked after a distracted beat, turning my attention to Benji’s adorable little beaming face.
“Read a whole book by myself,” Benji said. “If we read one every week this month, we get a prize.”
I broke into a smile as wide as the one he was giving me.
The Benji of a few months ago had not been getting stickers in school—he hadn’t been going to school, most days.
Most days, I’d sat on the floor beside his bed, either reading quietly to him while he curled up under the covers, or sitting in silence. So he knew I was there.
He was… healing, I guessed. Moving on.
I swallowed past a lump in my throat.
“If you get a prize, we’re going for ice cream,” I promised.
Honestly, I was a little excited about the seasonal reopening of the ice cream parlor that’d moved into town in my absence.
Everyone said it was amazing, like nothing they’d ever had before.
I hadn’t had the chance to go before they closed for the winter, but apparently the big reveal of the new menu on opening night was an event not to be missed.
I’d thought about taking Benji to it, but I got the impression—based on opening night not starting until 8pm on a Friday—that it was more of an adult event. So we’d just have to wait.
Benji laughed, resting his head against my chest. “I’m gonna,” he said, with determination most adults would have been proud of.
I believed him. He was a good kid, and he could do anything he set his mind to. Even with all the crap he’d been through. He really should have been proud. Maybe he’d let me frame the sticker for him, if I could rescue it before the shirt went to the laundry.
I hugged him closer and turned to Mom. “Who did what to earn that?” I asked, nodding to the box.
Mom’s eyes sparkled as she smiled, lifting the lid on the box to reveal two of her famous miniature key lime pies, finished with a zigzag of white chocolate over the tops. She only broke this recipe out for really special occasions.
“These are for you.”
My attention snapped from the perfect little pies to her face. What?
My confusion must’ve shown on my face, because Mom laughed, dropping the lid back in place. “I thought you deserved something nice. I thought maybe you’d want to take these for a walk. Perhaps in the direction of the dance studio?”
Benji wriggled to get down. There was no ballet class for him today, and distantly I was aware of Dad offering to show him something cool as he ran off, abandoning me without hesitation.
I was too busy processing what Mom was saying to really register that.
“I… I don’t…”
Mom scoffed, thrusting the box of pastries toward me. “Cooper Richards, I did not spend all morning baking these for you to pretend you don’t want to head down there.”
I took the box automatically, holding it protectively against my chest.
I was covered in motor oil and I’d spent a lot of time sweating under cars today. Would Felix even want to see me?
“We’ve got a lot of work to do,” I said, looking around the shop.
“All the more reason to take a break, so you can come back to it refreshed and more efficient.” She shooed me towards the door she’d come in through. “Go. Bring coffee. Enjoy yourself. It’s good for you.”
“But—”
“No buts,” Mom interrupted. “Unless you can tell me honestly you don’t want to see a certain someone? After spending so long with him last night and coming home whistling?”
Whistling and humming.
Last night had been better for me than I’d even realized.