Chapter 24 #2
“I want to kiss you,” I say, “but I don’t know if I’m supposed to do that in front of Huxley or not.”
The breeze picks up her laugh and carries it across the yard. Lincoln looks up and catches my eye and just nods. I nod back, knowing he arranged for this after seeing me nearly having a breakdown this morning.
“Well, I’d like to kiss you,” she replies, “but I’m not sure if I’m even supposed to be here.”
“Why wouldn’t you be?”
Shrugging, she watches her son toss a ball back and forth with my brother. “Are we interrupting anything? Linc just showed up and basically dragged us over here ...”
“So you didn’t want to come?”
Her face twists to mine, her eyes soft. “Of course I did. But I don’t want to be a thorn in your side. And Huxley is here, and I don’t know—”
“I’m glad you’re here, and I’m glad he’s here too.”
“You are?”
“He’s part of the deal, right? I mean, I can’t take you and not take him, even if he doesn’t think I’m the coolest Landry brother,” I wink.
“No, he certainly comes along with the package.”
“And I happen to like your package,” I whisper, making her laugh as a ball is overthrown and rolls to the porch.
Lincoln and Huxley race to retrieve it, landing in front of us. They’re laughing, out of breath, and Linc leans on the railing. He has a shit-eating grin on his face, his Arrows hat pulled low over his eyes.
“So,” he says, not looking anywhere but at me.
“So,” I say back, trying to keep my face as blank as possible. This just amuses him more and I can’t help but let my lips part into a grin. “Nice job.”
“You’re very welcome,” he says, knowing exactly what I’m thanking him for. “I told Ali if you didn’t want to see her, I’d be more than happy to hang out with her.”
I start to respond with a big “Fuck you,” but remember Huxley is standing right there. “You’re pushing it, Linc.”
He bursts into laughter and looks down at his new friend. “Can your mom play baseball?”
“No,” Huxley groans. “I don’t get a lot of practice in because she and my grandma kinda stink. Sorry, Mom.”
Alison laughs beside me. “It’s okay. It’s true.”
“So, your dad or uncle or brother aren’t around?” Lincoln asks, making me cringe internally. I don’t want the kid to have to start talking about things I know aren’t easy for him or his mother.
“I don’t have a dad,” Huxley says, his words enunciated very carefully. “Or a brother or an uncle. I have a grandpa, but he works a lot. So it’s just me and my mom and my grandma.”
Hearing the words come out of his mouth twists at my heart. I can’t imagine my life without my father or my brothers or sisters. They’re a built-in network of support, even though half the time I want to kill them. But I’d rather have them annoying me than not have them at all.
My heart breaks for this kid, and as Linc forces a swallow and looks at me out of the corner of his eye, I know his does too.
“The next time you come out here, we’ll bring a glove for your mom and Barrett, and we’ll teach them to play. That way, when I have to go back to Tennessee, you’ll have someone to practice with.”
“When do you have to leave?” Huxley asks.
“In a few days. But I come back a lot to visit. Otherwise, my mom cries. You know how that goes,” Lincoln says, rolling his eyes for effect.
“Yeah,” Hux huffs, making us all laugh.
Lincoln takes off his cap, a purple hat with a golden A on it, and plops it on Huxley’s messy head. “I gotta get a drink. I’ll be right back.”
He disappears in the house and as I start to speak, Alison’s phone rings. She looks at the screen.
“It’s Luxor calling,” she says. “I need to get this and confirm my schedule for the next couple of weeks.”
I nod but realize how much I hate it that she’s catering jobs with assholes like me. She should be getting to stay home and take care of her kid and focus on school and whatever makes her happy.
Shaking those thoughts from my head, I look at Hux. We’re alone, the two of us, and I have no idea what to say to a child. I don’t watch cartoons. He doesn’t read papers. What could we possibly have in common?
As my brain scrambles for something to say, Huxley does me a favor: he takes charge.
“You like my mom, huh?”
Shocked, I try to compose myself. “I do,” I say, going for the truth. “She’s pretty special.”
He nods and ponders his next question. “How much do you like her?”
I can’t help but laugh. “Well, I like her a lot. She’s nice and smart and really pretty,” I wink, hoping he at least kind of likes girls at his age. I liked them as soon as I could see, so I’m hoping we have some bond there.
He rolls his eyes.
I wince.
“I think my mom likes you too.”
“Do you now?”
He nods, chewing on his bottom lip. “She’s a lot happier lately. She sings songs in the shower and while she cooks and doesn’t get so mad about the baseball cards all over my bed when I forget to put them up.”
“I’m glad she’s happy.”
“Me too.” He kicks at a rock. “You will be nice to her, right?” He looks at me with the most sincere little eyes I’ve ever seen.
I lift off the swing and kneel at the edge of the porch so we’re eye-to-eye. “I promise you I’ll be nice to her. And if you ever think otherwise, you can call me or come talk to me, and we’ll discuss it.”
“Really?”
“Really. She’s your mom, Huxley. I respect you wanting to protect her. That’s a very big job.”
He grins, just like Alison when she’s on the verge of being embarrassed. If I weren’t trying to solidify my position in their world, I’d laugh.
“My dad wasn’t very nice to her.” The pain in his voice is raw, so visceral that it slices me to the quick. “She cried a lot, and I don’t want her to cry, Mr. Landry.”
I reach out, hesitantly at first, and adjust Lincoln’s cap on his head. “I don’t want her to cry either. And I don’t want to make you worry, okay? I want to be her friend and make her keep singing while she cooks.”
The lines around his eyes start to fade and I almost see a smile.
“And Huxley? I want to be your friend too. I know I’m not as cool as Lincoln, but if you give me a chance, I know some fun stuff. And I can get passes to the water park all summer.”
“Really?” he asks, in total awe.
“Yup,” I say, never more appreciative of the little perks of my job. “And, like I said, if you ever have problems with anything, you call me. Man to man.”
“Man to man,” he repeats. “I will, Mr. Landry.”
“One more thing. Call me Barrett. Only people that want to fu— ,” I catch myself. “Only people that want something from me call me ‘Mr. Landry.’ Okay?”
“Okay,” he grins a wide, toothy grin.