Chapter 20 #2
Myles grunted. Sometimes he forgot Natalie had been a huge part of her community, of their father’s company, before and especially after he’d died. When she enlisted someone’s help, even as a professional, she drew them into her orbit as a friend too.
Much like Lucky seemed to have a knack for doing, Natalie had made her world a safe place for Myles to recover. Without her at the centre, though, it had become less and less so for Myles. Her friends were not his friends, as it had turned out.
But here, he had the makings of a new family. And he had Steven. Going back to Calgary would be harder than admitting he’d needed help had been, because he knew the void he was going back to.
What if Priory’s place as an actual father eclipsed Myles’s place, a mere uncle? And one who had dragged Jet away from his life just so Myles wouldn’t feel so alone? Would Shelly then want her own real father too?
“Myles?”
“Leave it with me,” Myles said finally. “I have to think it over.”
“Fair enough. Though I wouldn’t leave it too long. From the sounds of things, Priory has left this a little late himself.”
“Perfect.” As if the looming start of the school year wasn’t enough of a ticking clock.
His first thought was to go to Steven, to ask his advice, to demand he tell Myles what he should do.
But that was an unfair burden to put on Steven.
And maybe, if he was being honest, he was afraid Steven would tell him to go back to Calgary.
Or maybe, what actually frightened him was that Steven would tell him that because he didn’t care if Myles stayed or not.
“Now you’re just being stupid,” he told himself.
And yet a part of him knew if Steven gave him the smallest encouragement, he might be tempted to chuck his entire life, and the kids’ lives, for the smallest chance of…
what? Could he really decide to stay with a man he’d known only for a couple of months?
Wouldn’t that just be using Steven as an excuse, much like he’d used Ozzy? Or alcohol, for that matter?
He scrubbed both palms along the sides of his scalp. “Jesus, I don’t know what I’m doing.”
He needed someone to talk to. Someone neutral. Uninvested.
Anytime you need me… Hadn’t that been what Ozzy had said? Any time he needed to talk?
Making up his mind, he rose and hurried down the back stairs. Less chance of being waylaid if he avoided as many people as he could.
He held back in the doorway to the small bedroom at the Cabin where he found Ozzy kneeling to nail quarter-round along the baseboards.
Ozzy worked in silence.
“Come on,” Myles said finally. “I know you know I’m here.”
“You’ll tell me why you’re here eventually,” Ozzy said without skipping a beat. “Hand me that little piece on the sawhorse, will you, please?”
Myles gave him the short bit of wood, which he proceeded to nail gun in place. “What do you think?” he asked.
“About?”
“Steven and me.” He started. That had not been what he’d come to ask advice about.
Ozzy sat back on his heels, but remained facing the wall. “What does it matter what I think?”
“It matters because you’ve always seen me more clearly than I see myself.”
“I’m not getting between the two of you, Myles.”
“I’m not asking you to.”
Ozzy looked over his shoulder at him. “Then exactly what are you asking?”
“I don’t know.”
Ozzy grunted, took out his tape measure and measured the length of the wall between his last piece of quarter-round and the edge of the wall under the window. He rhymed off the measurement and tossed the tape to Myles, who cut the piece for him.
They worked in silence like that, getting halfway around the room before either of them spoke.
“You don’t need my permission to move on from us,” Ozzy said.
Myles curled a lip but breathed through his annoyance. It wouldn’t be helpful to default to old patterns that had no place between them anymore. “I know that.”
“Then what do you want me to tell you?”
Myles took the time to carefully measure and cut another bit of trim before he spoke. “How did you know you were ready?”
“To move on from us?”
“For Tris. How did you know it was… I don’t know. Safe?”
Like Myles had, Ozzy took the time to complete his task and nail the bit of wood in place before answering. “Probably the same way you knew you were ready to face your sister. To look after her.”
“Didn’t matter if I was ready. She needed me. I need Steven more than he needs me.”
Ozzy put his nail gun down and rested both his hands on his thighs. He bowed his head to stare at the floor rather than look at Myles. “Pretty sure you want me to tell you something you already know I’m not going to tell you.”
Knees suddenly weak, Myles all but collapsed onto the windowsill. “If I stay here, what if I lean on him too much? We can’t be good for each other if he’s just a crutch. If I go back, I have no one. I don’t know if I can do this with no one.”
“Don’t go back,” Ozzy said flatly as he climbed to his feet.
He leaned on the wall next to the window, facing Myles.
“You are not built to do life alone. You never were. And you always wanted to show us—me, mostly—that you didn’t need us.
But you kept coming back, kept defending us, because you’re built for family.
Don’t let your asshole, and might I remind you, dead, father take that from you.
You deserve to have everything you want.
It sucks that you lost your mother and your sister.
But you have those kids, and you have all of us, despite how hard you tried to trash all those relationships. ”
“Oz, I never tried—”
Ozzy held up both hands. “Sorry. Reflex. I know you weren’t doing it on purpose any more than I was. I’m sorry.”
“Forget it.” Myles stood and handed him back the tape measure as he headed for the door. “I’ll figure it out.”
Ozzy stopped him at the door. “If you need him, maybe you have to look at that. Ask yourself why. Because you’re right. If he’s a crutch, then he’s just another addiction, and that isn’t good for either of you.”
Myles closed his eyes against the truth, but it was still there in the dark and misery of his own heart. “You never could just tell me what I wanted to hear, could you, Oz?”
A hand on his arm startled him, and he opened his eyes to find Tris standing in front of him looking both sad and sympathetic. “That’s not who he is,” Tris said. He smiled a soft smile. “Annoying, isn’t it?”
Myles knew his own smile was more of a grimace. “Better you than me, my friend.”
Both Tris’s bleached eyebrows went up. “Yes. Yes it is, thank you very much. I’ll take it.”
Myles grunted, but Tris didn’t move out of his way. “What?”
“As annoying as he is, he’s also right, you know.”
“About?”
“Not going back. Why would you when your whole family is here?”
“Because the kids’ lives are there.”
Tris tugged his arm and brought him back to the window where he pointed outside. In the shared yards of the Cabin and the Oaks, Jet and Wyatt were kicking a soccer ball back and forth while Shelly chased MJ around the yard, trying to get the dog to give up his tennis ball.
The peals of her laughter carried through the glass right into Myles’s darkness, leaving a little of her light behind.
“Nat said he hasn’t kicked a soccer ball in literally years,” Myles said.
“So don’t ignore that he’s doing it now,” Tris suggested. “And maybe figure out what it means.”
Myles scowled at him, but it was about as fake an expression as he’d ever managed. “You two are made for each other,” he muttered as he watched his kids.
Which of course only made Tris grin and agree with him.
They watched the kids and animals, joined after a few minutes by Scratch, who, despite his ability to knock a grown-ass man to the ground, was decidedly gentle around Shelly, and agile enough to never come close to knocking her down.
“Oh, thank God,” Tris muttered.
“What?”
“Rod’s here.”
“Which means?”
“A, that he’s staying on track and taking this seriously still, which is reassuringly unlike me at his age, and b, that I don’t have to rush back to the kitchen.”
“I thought you loved that job.”
“Oh, I do. But the truth is, Kreed is a teacher, not a co-worker, when it comes to his kitchen. We are much less compatible now that I don’t need his guidance, and that’s fine. It’s time for me to move on. He’ll be much happier with Rod under his wing than me underfoot.”
“You have your own resident to cook for now, too.”
“Truth told, I’m perfectly happy to start out small. Just me, Ozzy, and Wyatt to start with is plenty. We’ll have a house full soon enough, sadly.”
“Sadly?”
“Sad that there will be so many kids needing our help.”
“But happily, you’ll be there to offer it.”
“Yes. That’s true.”
They watched a few more minutes, until Wyatt and Jet tired of the soccer ball and flopped into the grass to gaze at the clouds scuttling overhead. They chatted as they lay there, passing Jet’s phone back and forth, and eventually, Jet pulled out earbuds and handed one to Wyatt.
“Whatever else is going on with those two,” Tris said, “it’s something they became friends so fast. Not all kids in Jet’s shoes would be so open.”
“Natalie did a good job with him. With both of them.”
“And you will too. Trust that.”
Myles sighed. “I’m trying to.”
“Am I overstepping to ask what you plan to do about his father?”
“You know about that?”
“Don’t be pissed at Ozzy. He tells me everything. You tell him, you’re telling me. At least where our friends are concerned. It’s how we roll.”
“Hey.” Ozzy appeared behind them, a hand on Tris’s shoulder, a quick kiss dropped on his hair. “Play time’s over. Wyatt!” He knocked on the glass of the open window. “Need a hand in here, buddy.”
Wyatt handed Jet his earbud back and got up. It looked like Jet was going to follow him, so Myles pulled himself together.
“First,” he said to Tris, “I’m going to go talk to him. After that?” He shrugged. “Who the hell knows.”
“You’ve got this,” Tris said, and Ozzy patted his shoulder as Myles left them.
“Hey, Jet.”
“I’m going to help—”
“I need to talk to you, please.”