Chapter 6 Alex
ALEX
"Leo, let's go, buddy," I called out as I opened the front door of my ex-wife's house.
"Hey, Mel, is he ready?"
She gave a big sigh. "He was, but then he could feel the tag in his shirt. I cut it out, but he said he could still feel it."
"That sounds about right."
Leo came bounding down the stairs in his favorite My Little Pony T-Shirt.
"Hey, bud, you ready for school?"
"Yep," he said as he plopped down on the stairs and slipped his shoes on.
I couldn't help but smile as he got up, went over, and gave Mel a big hug. "Bye, Mel," he said.
"Bye, baby. Your mama's picking you up today since I’m working the late shift."
"Yep, then you're staying at my house," I said as I guided him out the door.
We loaded into the car from our shared driveway.
Sharing a driveway with my ex-wife and her new wife could be awkward, but we had decided when we separated that we would be a village for Leo, and that's just what we'd done. I married Becca when they were young. Nineteen to be exact.
It was what everyone did in the church we grew up in. And then we got pregnant two months after we got married. Life had been a struggle, but then things started to change.
Once I was out of my father's house, I started to question how I grew up. I started to see the hypocrisy. I started to see the way women were treated. Once it started, it quickly crumbled.
Two years later, my wife told me she was a lesbian, and then two years after that, she married Mel. They lived in a small house, and I owned a duplex next door.
There had been lots of therapy and lots of work to deconstruct the beliefs we both grew up with, but we'd come out the other side. Now we had a good relationship, a wonderful community, and the best little boy to exist in the entire world.
“Seatbelt, bud,” I reminded him as we climbed into the car.
Leo clicked the buckle with a triumphant grin. “I did it before you said it!”
“You sure did.” I ruffled his hair.
He giggled, swinging his legs as I backed out of the driveway.
Our morning playlist kicked in, his current obsession was an interesting mash-up of showtunes and classic rock. As the opening chords of Impossible from Cinderella filled the car, he started humming along, off-key and proud.
“Are you ready for rehearsal tonight?” I asked.
He nodded so hard his headphones slipped. “I’m gonna be a mouse! But not a quiet mouse. A rock ’n’ roll mouse.”
“That’s the best kind,” I said, grinning.
He turned toward me, eyes wide. “You think it’s okay if I wear my tutu again?”
I glanced over at him, bright, unfiltered, completely himself, and my chest warmed. “Buddy, I think it’s perfect. You wear whatever makes you happy.”
“Sometimes people stare.”
I hesitated, but only for a breath. “Yeah. People stare because they wish they were brave enough to be you.”
He smiled, small and certain. “That’s what Mom says.”
“She’s right,” I said softly. “She usually is.”
We fell into easy silence, the kind that didn’t need filling.
When we pulled into the school drop-off line, Leo pressed his face to the window, narrating everything he saw: the kids, the crossing guard, a dog that looked like a toasted marshmallow.
That’s when I saw her.
A woman in the next car up, one hand resting on the steering wheel, the other reaching back to squeeze her daughter’s hand. I recognized her from rehearsal the night before. There was something about the curve of her smile, tired, tender, fierce.
She looked like she’d been through a storm and was still standing, still protecting everyone in her orbit.
I didn’t know much about her, but I wanted to.
Cars inched forward, and she drove off before I could even catch her license plate.
Leo started humming again, oblivious to the way my heart had just shifted gears entirely.
“Dad?” he asked. “You’re smiling weird.”
"Here we are," I said, waiting for him to get out, but he just looked at me. "What?"
He squinted before she shrugged and said goodbye and bounded out the door, bookbag dragging behind him.
After dropping him off, I made my way into work.
I pulled up to city hall and got my badge out of the glove box.
Working IT for the city, even one as small as Briar Glen, was a good job.
I only had to be in the office a few days a week, and it had good benefits.
It had been a blessing when we were getting Leo's diagnosis, but once we'd had that and had gotten him the right support, he was thriving.
Becca and Mel were thriving.
It's not that I wasn't thriving. I was fine, happy even most days, but sometimes it still felt like something was missing.
I love the community we'd built around us, from the Grimm Reapers to the Penguins, but sometimes I found myself wishing for a person.
My person. The person who was there when everything was quiet.
“Morning, Alex!”
Marcy from Records leaned over the counter with her usual bright smile, a stack of folders in one hand and a mug that said I’d rather be scrapbooking in the other.
“Morning, Marcy,” I said, balancing my coffee and laptop bag. “How’s the system treating you today?”
She groaned dramatically. “Like it woke up on the wrong side of the firewall.”
I chuckled. “That bad, huh?”
“I tried to print the new zoning forms, and it decided I needed fifty-seven copies of page one and none of page two.”
“That’s a bold choice,” I said, setting down my bag. “But I admire its confidence.”
She snorted. “Can you work your magic?”
“I prefer to call it competence, but sure,” I said, crouching to check the printer settings. “You’d be amazed how many problems in life come down to someone accidentally clicking collate.’”
“Don’t tell me that, it ruins the illusion that you’re a tech wizard.”
I grinned up at her. “Nah, I’m just the guy who talks nicely to cranky machines.”
A minute later, the printer whirred to life and spat out a perfect, single copy of page two.
Marcy clapped. “You did it again. Seriously, if IT ever runs for office, you’ve got my vote.”
“I’ll put that on my campaign poster,” I said, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “‘Alex Prince: Making Your Printers Behave Since 2018.’”
She laughed, shaking her head. “You’re too good for this place, Alex.”
“Nah,” I said, smiling. “I like it here. Machines I can fix. People . . . I’m still figuring out.”
Marcy’s grin softened. “You’re doing fine with both.”
Once I was settled in my office, my phone buzzed.
Becca - Just reminding you, the Reapers' spring picnic is Saturday. Are you coming?
I looked at my phone. Was I going? Yeah, I was. I wouldn't miss it. Leo loved it. But my thoughts drifted to the woman from rehearsal and the drop-off lane this morning. Maybe it was time I started to find something for myself.
Alex - Yep, I'll be there.
Becca - Do you mind if we switch nights for Leo? That way, you guys can leave early if he isn't feeling it.
Alex - Totally fine.
Becca - Thanks! You're the best!
I set my phone down and pulled up some tickets to get to work on. Still, the want of something more clung to me in a way it hadn't for a long time.