42. Deacon
DEACON
“Whoop!”
“There’s no way,” I groan as Briggs does a little dance and shuffle as he collects the horseshoes from the pit.
“I thought you said you were good at this,” he says with a smugness that only a preteen can pull off, and honestly, I kind of love it.
“Apparently I’m rustier than I thought.”
“Better for me. I can’t play with Uncle Hank. He never loses and Dad is worse than you.”
“Which one?” I ask before I can stop myself, but Briggs just smiles.
“Tanner is Dad and Otto is My Otto unless I’m with him and Mom. Then I usually call him Dad too.” He throws his first horseshoe and giggles. “If you marry Dad—not Otto,”—he looks at me from the corner of his eye before continuing—“then I’ll have three dads.”
“That would be something,” I reply, trying like hell to keep my voice carefully neutral as I throw my first shoe and watch it overshoot the pit. “What do you think about it?”
“It’s cool.” He nods and makes his next throw, the damn thing wrapping around the stake while Briggs pumps his fist like he’s some horseshoe shark. “Dad’s happy. Mom’s happy that Dad’s happy. And Otto is happy that everyone is happy.”
I chuff out a laugh but I don’t think he’s too far off. Otto Thayer does everything big—especially when it comes to loving his family.
“Your family seems pretty cool.”
“And weird,” he huffs as I take my turn and watch the horseshoe land in the pit but not close enough to the stake to earn me any points.
“Everyone is weird,” I tell him as he makes another great throw that convinces me I’ll never win a round, let alone a whole game.
“Did you see your family today?”
“My brother, his girlfriend, and my niece, yes.”
“Where are your parents?” The question is delivered so casually it takes a few seconds for me to formulate a response.
“They died.”
“So, it’s just you and your brother?” he asks and I nod. His expression is thoughtful. “Is he nice?”
“He’s sort of like your Uncle Sorren—definitely nice, but most people think he’s grumpy.”
This gets a full-blown smile out of Briggs as we each take our turns and I continue to have my ass handed to me by a kid I could easily bench press.
“Do you miss your parents?”
“I do. They were really great.” Briggs doesn’t look up, instead studying the horseshoes in his hand. “Do you miss your mom and dad being together?”
Shaking his head, he chuckles and meets my gaze. “No, it feels like it’s always been this way. Our family is big and awesome now. It just makes me sad sometimes.”
“What makes you sad?” I’m careful not to look around the yard, this conversation feeling like maybe it was meant for someone else and honored that this little boy has chosen me in this moment.
“Mom thinks I’m sad I don’t get to see my grandma and grandpa.”
“Your dad’s parents?”
“Yeah. I’m not sad I don’t see them. I just don’t want them to be mean to Dad.” He looks nervous when he adds, “I’m not supposed to know.”
“Family is complicated sometimes.”
“But family is supposed to take care of each other, right?” This time his eyes are full of unshed tears, his bottom lip quivering as he tries to maintain his composure.
Dropping to one knee, I set my horseshoes on the ground and place my hands on his shoulders. “Yes. Family is supposed to take care of each other, but that doesn’t mean it’s not messy sometimes too.”
“Why am I supposed to love them if they don’t love Dad?”
The question is so earnest, and I know in my heart that Briggs has been carrying this around for a long time—like he grew up fast when no one was watching.
“I’m not your parents, but I don’t think you have to love anyone you don’t want to. You have to be polite maybe, but you’re a smart kid and I can see this is hurting you. But it’s a burden you don’t have to carry alone, all right?”
“Okay.” It’s barely a whisper but there’s hope in his eyes where the guilt had been.
“I think you need to be honest with your mom and your dad. Sometimes adults think they’re helping a relationship by putting their own feelings aside.”
“I don’t want them to be mad at me.”
“They won’t be. I promise. You just need to tell them.”
“Will you help me?”
Swallowing the immediate lump in my throat, I dip my head. “Yeah.” The clank of the horseshoes as he drops them is the only warning I have before Briggs launches himself at me. Lanky arms wrap around my chest, his body so small in his oversized sweatshirt as I hold him.
He’s only a kid.
“I didn’t know the party was out here!” Otto calls, his voice loud, but I can hear the unspoken question hidden by his normal antics.
Briggs pulls back and wipes his face on his sleeve as he looks from me to Otto, and I hold steady because I promised him I would.
“I don’t love Grandma and Grandpa because they’re mean to Dad and that’s not what family does.” He holds his breath, undoubtedly waiting for the backlash, but Otto just nods.
“All right, Big Rigg. We can talk to your mom and dad this weekend and figure out what needs to happen, all right?” Walking across the grass, he tilts Briggs’s face up. “Thank you for telling me. I know that’s hard to say out loud.”
Briggs nods as Otto pulls him in for a hug, his eyes meeting mine as he mouths finally, and some of the tension in my shoulders ebbs as I stand to my full height.
“Is Mom gonna be mad?”
“No, Big Rigg. She’ll understand.”
“Can Deacon come?”
Otto’s mouth curves up on one side. “Yeah, Deacon can come too.” He ruffles Briggs’s hair until the kid pushes Otto’s hand away with a laugh. “Why don’t you go inside and grab a snack? We’ll be inside in a minute.”
“I’ll make sure to practice for next time,” I call after him but he just laughs, his shoes scuffing across the deck before he disappears into the house.
“You got a minute?” Otto asks as silence settles around us, and I hold back my sigh because I just want to see Tanner and ensure with my hands and my mouth that he’s okay.
But I don’t say any of that.
“Sure.”
I’ve got all the time in the world.