Chapter 6 #2
“It looks amazing,” Tyler said, and he meant it.
It was the kind of thing he’d make at home, and finding a meal like this out in the world sent such a visceral wave of relief through him he felt his eyes burn.
Being somewhere with people who had kids, who thought about what was convenient and nourishing, Tyler realized how much he’d missed this since leaving home.
“I set up a booster seat next to your spot,” Layla went on.
As Tyler grabbed a plate, he felt someone slide up beside him. “Here,” Jamie’s voice was quiet. “Hand me Rowan’s plate. You’ve got your hands full.”
Tyler caught Jamie’s fond, soft smile as he looked down at them. “Thank you,” he said, worried that he might actually start to cry.
Jamie followed Tyler’s instructions, listening to Rowan’s quiet request of “One more, please,” when it came to adding the slices of pear to his plate.
He carried the plate over to the table, placing it on the colorful plastic mat between two empty chairs.
When he came back to the kitchen, he offered Tyler another one of those hesitant, gentle smiles.
“You’re up next, Ty.” His eyes widened, so green in the bright kitchen, and a blush darkened his cheeks. “Sorry, I mean, Tyler.”
He watched Jamie closely as he served his plate. With Rowan tucked in his arms and the voices of a loud, loving family surrounding them, Tyler felt himself wonder, imagination adrift, if their lives were about to change for the better.
Dinner had been full of loud conversation and laughter. When the kids got restless, Layla got up and wandered into the open living room, pulling a plastic tote out to the center of the room. “Henri, want to help get the tracks set up?”
Mitch could barely wipe the three siblings’ hands and faces before they raced over to the box of wooden tracks, bridges, buildings, and trains. Rowan watched them carefully from his booster seat.
“Papa,” he whispered.
“Yeah, kiddo?”
“Can I go play with them?”
Tyler felt his heart melt. “Of course. I think they’d love to play with you.”
His son’s blue eyes looked up at him. “And you’ll be right here?”
“I’ll be right here,” Tyler echoed, planting a soft kiss on Rowan’s forehead.
He watched, emotions tangling in his chest, as Rowan walked hesitantly over to where the other kids were setting up an elaborate, interconnected track. Henri handed him a curved piece, and, with Bunny in one hand and the track in the other, the rest of the world seemed to fade away.
Leaning back in his chair, Tyler let out a relieved sigh.
“You okay?” Layla asked from across the table.
Tyler nodded, reaching up to run his hands through his hair. “This is his first time doing something like this. Playing with other kids in their house. It’s…it’s amazing.”
Her smile was kind. “We’ll have to do this more often, then.” She reached out to Mitch, who sat beside her, interlacing their fingers and sharing a smile.
Jamie shifted in the chair next to him, bracing his furry forearms on the table and leaning toward the other couple. “Is there dessert for the grownups?” He whispered.
Layla laughed, nodding toward the kitchen. “Top shelf of the pantry.”
A gleeful grin split across Jamie’s face, giving Tyler a glimpse of the missing molar near the back of his mouth. He turned to Tyler. “Want something sweet?”
Tyler shook his head, unable to hide his amusement.
Jamie returned a moment later with his cheeks bulging, that same innocent joy still making his green eyes dance.
“So,” Mitch said, leveling a look across the table. “You settled in with Dotty and Sandra?”
“Yeah. They’ve been great.”
“They’re the best,” Layla said, taking a sip of her white wine. “Even if they constantly badger Sully about giving them grandkids.” She shot Jamie an apologetic smile across the table. “I’m all for having kids if you want them, but getting nagged about it all the time really does get old.”
Tyler looked at Jamie in time to see him shrug, still chewing a mouthful of something.
“So this hockey thing,” Tyler started. “It’s a big deal here?”
Layla burst out laughing. Mitch buried his face in his hands. Jamie’s brows shot up.
“You’re my new favorite person,” Layla said, still laughing. “See, Sully? Not everyone in this town cares that you broke your hand starting a fight you had no chance of winning.”
“So, I take it you don’t follow professional hockey?” Mitch asked.
“Nah,” Tyler said. “I knew people who played back in Vermont, but I’ve never really been into sports.”
Mitch nodded in understanding. “Well, the team here is a pretty big deal. We won the Cup six years ago.”
“The cup?”
Jamie let out a sound like a wounded animal. “He doesn’t know what the Cup is!”
“What?” Tyler started laughing too, unable to help himself when Layla’s bright, loud laughs filled the air around them.
“The Cup is the trophy in hockey. It’s the ultimate prize for the best team in the professional league.” Mitch explained. “Wait, but now I’m confused. Why did you make a snowman wearing one of his jerseys, then?”
Tyler frowned, thinking back to the night he’d first met Jamie. He remembered the brightly-colored sports jersey they’d put on the snowman. Oh no. “That was yours?” He turned to Jamie.
Jamie’s cheeks were pink. “Yep. That’s me. Sullivan, number three, worst captain in Muskies history.”
Mitch and Layla both jumped in to protest, reassuring Jamie that he was just adjusting, that his play wasn’t that bad. Tyler barely listened to them, instead watching Jamie’s face.
He could almost see the burden of responsibility heavy on his broad, slumped shoulders. If the pained pinch of his blonde brows and the soft frown on his face were any indication of what the man was thinking, it looked like this weighed on him.
Maybe the anger Tyler had so quickly brushed off as a drunk stranger losing control was actually pain and disappointment directed at himself.
“What’s the deal with the fish?” Tyler asked, wanting to steer the conversation away from Jamie’s obvious discomfort.
“We’re going to let Sully take this one,” Mitch said, grinning across the table.
Tyler looked to Jamie for an explanation. He rolled his eyes, letting out a loud sigh. “It took me about three years of being on the team before I could pronounce the full name.” He pulled out his phone, scooting closer to Tyler’s chair. “Here, check this out.”
A hard thigh pressed against his leg for a second, only to quickly retreat. Tyler sat there, in a bit of a daze, as Jamie’s body heat warmed his left side. His breaths were shallow in his chest, every part of him hyperaware of the man sitting next to him.
Physical intimacy had always been easy for Tyler, a way to form connections with other humans. Before Rowan, he had regularly found himself in the arms of strangers–dancing during concerts, or sharing kisses or touches without a second thought.
Now, with Jamie beside him, he was hesitant. Nervous, even.
He looked down at Jamie’s phone. There was a picture of a man holding a fish that had to be at least four feet long. “Holy shit,” Tyler whispered.
Jamie let out a soft, gentle laugh that had absolutely no place coming from a man Jamie’s size. “Muskie is short for muskellunge. It’s the largest member of the pike family, found in freshwater lakes in the Northern U.S.”
Tyler couldn’t help the grin that spread. “That is a mouthful.”
Jamie’s smile grew. It was an overly large smile, one nobody in their right mind would classify as attractive. But on this man, on his particular face, Tyler thought it was beautiful.
Jamie’s eyes lifted at that moment, catching Tyler’s stare. It was a quiet moment, nothing remarkable about it except for the way Tyler’s entire body stilled, waiting, anticipating something.
He couldn’t breathe.
There was nothing but green and moss and that fucking mustache. Nothing but god I think I want something, someone just for me, for the first time since becoming a father.
“You guys should come check out a game sometime.” Mitch’s voice rang out, too loud across the table. Tyler glanced over, catching the pleased smiles on his and Layla’s faces.
He felt Jamie shift beside him, felt the slide of his arm across his back as he scooted his chair away. The room felt colder now, and Tyler had to suppress a shiver.
“I, um.” Jamie cleared his throat. “I’d be happy to get you some tickets.”
“You don’t have to,” Tyler rushed to say. He didn’t want Jamie doing things out of obligation.
“We get tickets for family and friends all the time,” Jamie said, and there was a glimpse of that smile again. “Think about it?”
Tyler opened his mouth to respond.
“Papa!” Rowan jogged over to the table. “Potty?”
“Down the hall on the left,” Layla said, pointing.
Tyler ushered Rowan down the hall, helping him use the step stool conveniently positioned by the toilet. As they washed his tiny hands, Rowan looked up at him. “These kids are good at playing.”
Tyler smiled at his son. “I’m so glad to hear it, bud.”
“Are you having fun, Papa?”
“I am,” he replied, and he realized, meeting his son’s trusting, brave, blue eyes in the mirror, that it was the truth.