20. Point Out The Obvious
POINT OUT THE OBVIOUS
“Are you back for the day now, Dad?” Ian asked when he walked in at ten thirty with a few bags of food.
“Yeah. I just had some errands to run.”
He hadn’t thought he’d be gone two and a half hours. He’d only told Ian he was running out for some things and would be back with food.
And of course that had been sent in a text because his son didn’t get up before ten on a Sunday if someone didn’t wake him up.
The fact that Ian’s hair was standing in every direction and driving Fletcher nuts said his kid probably woke up not that long ago.
His son needed a haircut in the worst way, but he wouldn’t be that parent to say it. He wouldn’t try to project his style onto a teen who was trying to find his own.
“Sweet, you got more flour. I was thinking of trying to make homemade bread today.”
“Again?” he asked.
Last weekend Ian tried to do it and it was more like a brick to break a window, or maybe his teeth. Rather than say a word, after a few crunches, he just put it down and let it go.
His son’s laughter was enough.
Sometimes in life, you just didn’t need to point out the obvious.
“Yeah. I’ve been watching videos. I overworked it last time. Can I cook dinner today too?”
“Shit yeah,” he said. “Anytime you want, it’s yours.”
“Thanks. I promise not to burn anything. The popcorn was awesome. Sorry about the burnt caramel.”
“Next time, run hot water into the pan when you’re done.”
Ian winced. “Did you get it out?”
“Nope. It’s in the trash.”
“Sorry,” Ian said, and put the food away with him. “I’m going to make an omelet. Want one?”
“I’m good. I had breakfast earlier. I’m going to hit the gym soon. Did you want to go down with me?”
“Sure,” Ian said. “If you don’t mind waiting.”
“I’ve got some work to do. Take your time.”
Ian walked by him to get the pan for his breakfast and stopped, then sniffed. “You smell like flowers.”
“What?”
Fuck.
Ian leaned closer. “I don’t know. Your hair or something smells like flowers. If you got new shampoo, just giving you a heads up. It’s like a chick.”
He laughed. “Thanks for the warning.”
Then moved towards his office rolling his eyes.
That would teach him to shower at Paris’s.
After breakfast, he’d helped her clean up, then took a quick shower so he didn’t come home smelling like sex. Or even smelling like it running to the store.
Of course she wanted to crawl in there with him.
And they absolutely had to work each other up again.
She was naked. And she was in front of him. There wasn’t a shot in hell he was saying no.
But he didn’t think his son would notice what he had. Or maybe he’d hoped it’d wear off.
He’d have to remember that for the future.
He picked his phone up: My kid said I smell like flowers, so thanks a lot.
He saw the bubbles on the screen. No one said you needed to shower before you left.
I guess I’d rather he said I shouldn’t use that shampoo again unless I wanted to come off like a chick rather than guessing what I was doing.
More bubbles on the screen. He was pretty sure a smile was filling his face while he waited. Tell me what you use. It won’t be a problem next time.
Dove. Men’s.
Now I know why your hair and body are so soft.
He growled. Nothing on me is soft.
Just the way I like it.
“Dad!”
He dropped his phone and turned. “What? Sorry, didn’t know you were there.”
“I said that Stefan wanted to know if he could go to the gym with us. If you’ll show him what you do?”
He smiled. “Sure. That’s fine. I’m still doing my thing, but you guys can follow along.”
“Thanks,” Ian said. “How come you’re smiling?”
“What?”
“You were smiling when you were texting.” Ian came into the room. “And you smelled like flowers. Are you dating someone? Did you like buy a girl flowers and bring them to her?”
He could honestly reply. “No. There were flowers in the store though.”
He didn’t know if what he and Paris had was dating or not.
Maybe they should have addressed that.
Or titles. Rules with that.
Shit.
He was so out of touch when it came to that part of life.
“Just checking,” Ian said. “You didn’t have to get so defensive. Maybe it’d be good if you were.”
Since this was really a thing in his life, it wouldn’t hurt to prod some.
“You’d be okay with that? If I dated someone.”
“Why wouldn’t I be? It might put you in a better mood sometimes.”
He squinted at his son. “I’m not in a bad mood.”
“Not usually. Though sometimes you are. I don’t know. Whatever. It’s your life. Go date someone. Mom sure the hell moved on.”
Which was what he didn’t want to be compared to. “Have you talked to her lately?”
“Nope. And it’s all good. I like it better that way. I’m just saying, I hope you aren’t not having a personal life because I live here. I don’t care. I don’t need a babysitter.”
“No, you’re right. You don’t. But I’ve got a lot of time to make up for.”
“You can’t make up time, Dad. You can only change future decisions. Didn’t you tell me that?”
“I did. And you’re right. What’s that smell?”
“Oh, shit. My omelet.”
Ian ran back to the kitchen. He hoped to hell the smoke alarms didn’t go off, but he heard the fan go on.
He picked his phone back up. I just got caught smiling.
A laughing emoji came up. Is that a problem? Or just an anomaly?
No to the first. Seems like a yes to the second.
Though it was nice to know his kid wanted him to get a life.
Insulting, but still nice.
Another laughing emoji came up and that was it.
Which was fine with him because he wasn’t one for lengthy text conversations. Nor flirting on the phone.
He did some work, then shut down his laptop, changed into workout gear the same time that Ian came out of his room.
Nope, the kid hadn’t showered yet, he didn’t even comb his hair, but was wrapping a bandana around his head.
With his sleeveless shirt and the start of some muscles, he supposed his son was feeling some confidence. Or maybe it was being next to his father that did it.
It was a nice feeling.
No, he couldn’t make up the time he lost. Never that.
But he could start new experiences. New times. New laughs.
“Ready?”
“Yeah. Do you think my arms will get as big as yours someday?”
“If you keep working hard they will. But don’t compare. Everyone just needs to be happy with what they’ve got and where they are.”
“I guess.”
“Is there someone you want to impress?” he asked. “You brought up dating earlier. We don’t talk about those things much.”
His son flushed and that told him exactly what might be going on.
He supposed it was better to be that than his kid getting bullied in school.
That had happened in the past, but seemed to stop at this new school.
“Nothing to talk about,” Ian said quickly. Too quickly. As if there was, but he was embarrassed.
His son didn’t have a job.
Didn’t really have money other than an allowance.
The kid did a lot of chores around the house. Was now cooking on top of it. Spending his money getting food that he didn’t need to so he could keep practicing.
“I got thinking that I’m going to give you a credit card.”
“Seriously?”
“With a limit. But you’re cooking more. You’re doing things around the house. If you really enjoy cooking and want to try new things, you shouldn’t be using your money on food.”
They left their condo. “Thanks, Dad.”
“No problem. And if you want to buy some chocolate... or flowers now and again, I’m not going to care.”
Ian flushed. “Thanks.”
And that one word lifted a lot of guilt that he’d been carrying for years.