Chapter 39
Thirty-Nine
Sawyer
“No sun,” I say.
Ollie frowns and I give him a moment to process the Dad Joke.
“An eclipse means people can’t see the sun,” Lainey says, her brown eyes dancing with humor as they connect with mine for a beat. “So, when the joke says: Mom, can you tell me what a solar eclipse is? The joke is saying, No sun.”
More furrowed eyebrows.
Then they suddenly flatten out. “No sun. Like no son.” Ollie slaps a palm against his forehead. “I’m a son and there’s no sun in the sky.”
“Um,” I begin.
But Lanes just shakes her head, and I get what she’s not verbalizing.
Close enough.
And anyway, Ollie’s moved on from the joke and is bouncing around the room, looking ridiculously adorable in his pajamas—mostly because he’s strapped on his suspenders over the top of them and looks like he’s starring in some old western while rocking long johns and braces.
Molly’s containers dot the coffee table, the dog-crime-fighting show is paused on the TV, and Holly is perched on the couch beside Lainey, supervising her as she pecks away on her laptop.
It’s a night full of completely mundane, normal details.
And it’s fucking perfect.
Because it’s all I’ve ever wanted—a family of my own, a connection that’s not one-sided, a place where I belong, people who want me around as much as I want to be around them.
Lainey sets her computer aside and stands, brushing her fingers along my arm. “I’m going to make some popcorn. Do you want another beer?”
I start to straighten. “I can get it.”
She pushes me back down. “I’ll get it, handsome. Now, beer?”
“Sure, Pages. Thanks.”
She slips away and a few moments later, the scent of popcorn begins to fill the air. A few moments after that, she’s back with a beer.
“Thanks.”
“You’re welcome.” She kisses my temple, retrieves the popcorn, and then we spend the next little while eating it and watching dogs fight crime until eventually she says, “I’m going to plug in my computer so I can put Ollie to bed.”
“Aw, man!”
“You know it’s time, buster. Plus, you want to rest up so you can sing good tomorrow, right?”
An aggrieved sigh, but he nods. “Yeah.”
My lips twitch and I take a pull of beer.
“Can Saw-yur read to me tonight?”
I still.
So does Lainey.
“Honey,” she begins, slanting a look in my direction. “I’m sure Sawyer’s tired and—”
“I don’t mind.” I set my beer down, stroke my fingers along the back of her knee. “You go finish up what you need to and I’ll read some awesome books to an awesome kid.”
“I’m awesome!” Ollie says.
“You sure are,” I say, scooping him up and tossing him over my shoulder. His giggles ring out as I say, “Now let’s go pick out some awesome books.”
“’Kay!”
I lean down and kiss her.
“I’ll be quick,” she whispers.
“Take your time, Pages.”
Her face…well, I’ll remember the way she’s looking at me forever.
“Books!” Ollie cries.
“Books,” I cry back, rushing toward the stairs, his laughter filling the air.
“Wait!” Lainey calls and I look over my shoulder.
“Holly,” she says moving over to us, tucking the stuffed toy into the circle of Ollie’s arms.
“Books!” Ollie cries again.
“Books!” I cry a second time, this time pounding up the stairs, Ollie giggling the whole way.
“Brush your teeth first!” Lainey hollers.
“On it!” I detour to the bathroom and we spend the next few minutes doing just that.
Then we’re in his bedroom, negotiating the number of books (and the removal of suspenders).
“Lay down,” Ollie commands as he crawls under the blankets. “Mom always lays down when she reads to me.”
“Aye, aye, Captain Ollie.”
More giggles, but they’re softer now, the day catching up with him. “Are you still coming to my performance tomorrow?”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
“Does that mean yes?”
I chuckle. “Yes. It means I’ll be there.” I hold up the books he picked out. “Ready?”
A wide smile. “Ready ready.”
“Here goes,” I say, clearing my throat before I read about a little blue truck and its adventures, then a book about hopping on pop, then one final one about a moon saying goodnight.
He’s out before I get to the last page, but I finish it anyway.
And then find myself lying there, staring at a little boy who owns a good chunk of my heart.
His messy curls topple forward to drape over his forehead and I push them back, then press a kiss there.
“Goodnight, bud,” I whisper, carefully climbing to my feet and spending a few seconds fixing the blankets and tucking Ollie in.
I turn on the nightlight, turn off the overhead lights, and then quietly close his door.
My phone buzzes as I stride toward the stairs.
brI: See you tomorrow!
I still, mind racing…and then screeching to an abrupt halt.
Fuck!
The charity lunch.
Panic tears through me and I rush to scroll up through the texts, to the dates I gave her…one of which is tomorrow.
And that’s the one we both confirmed.
brI: The winners are super excited to meet you!
“Fuck,” I whisper. “Fuck.”
SAWYER: Remind me what time and where it’s at?
She sends the location and the time and the panic eases a little bit. The restaurant is only fifteen minutes from Ollie’s school.
Maybe I could ask Bri to move it?
No.
The auction winners are excited and they donated a fuck-ton of money to the shelter. Plus, I already dragged my feet on giving her the dates.
Bri’s counting on me to make this happen.
“Okay,” I say softly. “Okay, this is doable.” I’ll go to the lunch, keep Bri’s donors happy, and make sure I’m out of there in plenty of time. Then I’ll zip over and catch Ollie’s concert, which isn’t happening until three.
It’s totally doable.
Totally.