Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
In the end, Myles decided to fly back to Calgary with the kids, instead of enduring the agonizing drive again.
He’d worry about getting his car back later.
He could use Natalie’s car for a while, and there was no shortage of people volunteering for the cross-country drive from Ontario to Alberta.
Lucky and Kreed both said they would, as soon as they could find time in their schedules.
Tris and Ozzy also offered, and Lucy’s younger brother Cameron also jumped at the chance.
It was Stephanie and Bob who eventually decided to do it, since they had the most flexible timeframe, which was fine with Myles.
He’d already interrupted Kreed and Lucky’s business more than he’d wanted to.
Cameron was too new a driver, and too distractable a person, for that responsibility, and Myles knew in his heart Ozzy didn’t want to leave Wyatt to his own devices any time soon.
On the day of departure, it was Steven who accompanied them to the airport so he could drive the car back to the B and B until his sister was ready to bring it to Calgary.
Myles noticed Steven being very demonstrative as they loaded the car, touching him often, standing close when they weren’t doing anything else, and once their cases were all loaded, he kept Myles’s hand in his.
“You okay?” Myles asked him.
“Just… going to miss you.” Steven pressed his forehead to Myles’s shoulder, breathing hard, then, when he straightened, glanced over it to his own house.
“You don’t have to come to the airport if you don’t—”
“Want to?” Steven’s laser focus came back to Myles’s face. “I want to be with you. Every last minute.” He swallowed hard. “My house isn’t going anywhere. You are.”
Myles dropped his hand so he could cup Steven’s face, taking charge, even if just for that moment. “I want you to know that if it gets too much, if you have to get back here, you can say that, and I won’t mind.”
“I’ll mind.”
“You have to listen to your heart, Steven. And if the house calls, don’t be afraid to answer.”
“My heart is with you. You get that, right?”
Myles smiled, unable to keep his sadness out of it. “I do. I also know it’s a bit torn between me and your house. Your shop. The life you love. This is a big deal. Don’t pretend it’s not.”
Steven nodded, his expression so uncertain, Myles couldn’t stand not kissing him a second longer.
They only parted when Jet made a show of loudly telling Shelly it was time to get in the car.
“Will you drive?” Myles asked, hoping that driving would help to keep Steven’s mind off his empty house. It would also be easier on his hip, but that was a side benefit.
Steven nodded and climbed behind the wheel, putting on an overly cheerful smile when he looked at Shelly in the mirror and asked what she wanted on the radio.
Both kids, thrilled at the prospect of a first-class flight, chatted about the adventure in the back seat.
For maybe the first time in his life, and thanks to Jet’s advice, Myles didn’t begrudge the money inherited from his father that he used to pay for it.
His hip would thank him for the extra leg room later.
“How is Jet taking this?” Steven asked as they walked, hand-in-hand, to a check-in kiosk.
“I can’t really tell if he’s taking it better than I thought he would, or if he’s just putting up a front for now and I’m going to pay for this later.”
“I would bet probably a bit of both.”
“How are you taking it?” Myles asked, lifting Steven’s hand to his lips to kiss his knuckles.
Steven shrugged. “I have formulated two weeks’ worth of leaving-the-house plans, and I am shamelessly using our friends to hold me to those plans. Nothing big. Breakfast at the Oaks where I can sit in the front window and see my house.”
“Make sure it doesn’t spontaneously crumble to the ground.”
“Exactly. I’m going to bring a few loads of books over to the Cabin so Ozzy’s shelves up in the study area don’t looks quite so desolate, too.” He winked. “I may have more than I strictly need.”
Myles grunted. “You think?”
“Also—” He stuck out his tongue at Myles, making him grin despite his swooping stomach and vibrating nerves. “—there will be thrift shopping with Steph for some decor for her new place, and driving Wyatt to the Y for his lifeguarding course.”
“You’ve got this all figured out.”
“Oh, I’m not going to kid myself that it will be easy. But I do have a bit of experience in taking baby steps to get used to the idea of change.”
“Baby steps,” Myles mused as he punched buttons and scanned passports for the flight check-in. “That might have been something to try before I upended everybody’s lives. Twice.”
“Don’t do that.” Steven took the tickets and receipts as the machine spit them out and Myles handed them to him. “You did the right thing coming here.”
“And I’m doing the right thing going back?”
“I’m sure that’s probably an impossible question to answer before you do it. And maybe even after it’s done. But you have legitimate reasons for doing it. Trust yourself.”
“God, Steven.” Myles huffed and grabbed up his carry-on. “I wish I could.”
“Then trust Jet.”
Myles nodded as they resumed the walk through the airport.
Ahead of them, Jet and Shelly meandered along, chatting.
Or rather, Shelly was chatting, Jet was nodding and answering her questions and looking resigned.
He had a backpack slung over his shoulder and Shelly’s hand in his.
She hauled her pink suitcase along behind her, looking utterly adorable—and slightly eye-watering—in neon green leggings, a pink dance tutu, rubber boots and a sparkling orange hoodie, a complete contrast to Jet’s all-black outfit and multi-buckled boots.
“How are they even possible?” Myles murmured.
Steven kissed his knuckles this time and smiled his crooked smile. “Same way we are. Pure luck and unbelievable good fortune.”
“We.” Myles stopped and turned to him. “What happens to that when we’re half the country apart?”
“I don’t know. But I’m in love, and I’m not giving that up because of a silly little thing like geography.”
Myles closed his eyes and tried not to let the creeping sense of futility take over.
“We will figure this out, Myles.” Steven took his duffel and dropped it on the floor, then took his other hand in his, too.
“I can’t see it.”
Steven leaned his forehead against Myles. “I can’t see the sun at night, either, but I trust it’s there.”
“You are so positive about this.”
“You’ll see,” Steven reassured him. “Promise.”
Myles couldn’t linger over goodbye, for fear he’d decide not to go at all, so they kissed quickly at the security gate, and Myles joined the queue with the kids while Steven, maybe sensing his fragile resolve, walked away without looking back.
As they neared the front of the line, Myle’s pocket buzzed and he fished out his phone.
STEVEN: Trust us. I love you.
MYLES: <3 Love you, too.
The flight and taxi back to the house passed in a pained blur for Myles. More leg room only went so far, and while a four-and-a-half-hour flight was not an eight-day drive, it was still a trial for its own reasons.
The three of them were still standing in the drive, staring at the house, long after the taxi driver had filled out his log and driven away.
“We can’t stay out here forever,” Myles said.
Shelly leaned on his good leg and wrapped an arm around his knee. “Can we go back to the nice house now, Uncle My-my?”
“Shells, we live here,” Jet said, stroking her hair.
“Do we have to?” She peered up at Jet, then Myles, who very much wanted to tell her that no, they did not have to live here.
“Come inside,” Jet told her, crouching to pick her up. “Let’s go see your room. You remember the pink blanket on your bed?”
“I like the green one on my bed at Mr. Lucky’s house better.” Her voice became more pinched and shrill as she spoke.
Jet shot a look at Myles.
“Take her inside. I’ll get the bags.”
“Leave them,” Jet snapped. “I’ll come back.”
“I can—”
“Uncle Myles.”
“Jet.”
Jet closed his eyes, soot-black shadow on the lids reminding Myles who he was dealing with, but the moment passed, and Jet looked at him again. “Without the yelling, right?”
“Right.”
“So leave the bags. You’re in pain. I’ll come get them in a sec. Come inside and help Shells get reacquainted with old grumpy pants.” He indicated the house with a nod of his head in that direction.
“That what we’re calling him, then?”
“Unless he tells us otherwise. He’s going to act like a jerk, no reason I shouldn’t treat him like he’s a jerk.”
“Maybe if we’re nice to him—”
“Him first.”
That seemed a little too nuanced for house-to-human relations, but Myles let it go.
He was in pain, and wanted nothing more than to sit down, and maybe call Steven.
Just hearing his voice would go a long way.
Towards what, though? Easing a newly forming addiction?
Sighing, he followed Jet on the trudge up the walk to the front door.
The door did not voluntarily open to admit them. In fact, Jet’s key momentarily stuck in the lock, and Myles was tempted to tell the building to stop throwing a hissy fit.
Once inside, the welcoming vibe of returning home after a long time away did not materialize. Myles might once have said there was a cold, dead aura about the place, but now he recognized sulking when he felt it in the air all around him.
Shelly climbed up on the extra-wide reading chair and pulled the blanket off the back over her head.
“Do you think Grandpa’s assholery infected the place while he was building it?” Jet asked.
“Maybe he just misses your mom. Like the rest of us.”
If the house had any thoughts on that assessment, it didn’t bother to try and communicate them.
“I’ll go get our stuff. Make sure he lets me back in.”
While he waited for Jet to get back, Myles texted Steven that they’d made it home.
STEVEN: Glad you got there okay. How’s the house?
MYLES: Sulking.
STEVEN: Be patient.
MYLES: How’s your house?
STEVEN: Fantastic. Didn’t fall down or anything. Let you know more after a few days of my plan, though.