Chapter 12
Twelve
Nash
“C-congratulations,” Corey says, his tone sounding anything but happy for me. I frown at him in confusion.
“What?” I ask, feeling disappointed that I’m going to have to defend myself to him when I’d thought I’d found something of a kindred spirit.
“Nothing, I just…”
“What?” I demand, voice a little harsher than I intended.
“I just thought you’d been divorced for a while. Rain mentioned… Never mind. Or is it not with your ex-wife? Shit, sorry that’s none of my business. I mean, it’s great news.”
I sit in stunned silence for a moment, and then I snort out a laugh.
“Are you laughing at me?” He’s scooted back again, putting more space between us. I noticed when he did it before, and I didn’t like it. I like it even less now.
“No, little rabbit,” I tease, closing the distance between us again so I can nudge his shoulder with mine. “You’ve just gone all wide-eyed and shocked again. I’m not having a baby with anyone.”
“But you said—”
“Is having a baby the only way to become a parent? Especially as a single man who could just as easily be in a relationship with a man as he could a woman?”
Corey jerks in surprise, whether at the realisation I’m bisexual, or the realisation of what I’m actually saying.
“Are you bi?”
“Yeah… why?”
“No, I just… I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. I mean, you mentioned your ex-wife, so I assumed. I’m sorry.”
“No need to apologise. Shelley and I were best friends growing up. She was the first person I told I was bisexual, actually. We even had a crush on the same guy once.” I don’t tell him the rest of that story; he doesn’t need to know how insular rural villages can be.
“But then, when we got together, I just never told anyone. I wasn’t hiding it, but I had a girlfriend, and then a wife, and then after we split up, I was focused on becoming a dad. ”
“Ah, so… Are you adopting?” he asks, his voice loud and high-pitched enough to startle a few of the seals back into the water in a panic. He grimaces. “Oops. Shall we go somewhere else to chat? I don’t want to be responsible for scaring off all the local wildlife.”
I chuckle.
“Sure. Come back to mine for a cuppa?”
He nods in agreement, and we pack up the blankets in silence, shaking the worst of the sand off before placing them inside the bin bag I brought with me to prevent taking half the beach back home with me in my backpack.
We walk to the truck in silence, and when we climb back inside, he turns to me and places his gloved hand on my arm.
“I’m sorry, Nash. You were trying to tell me something important, and I went all weird.”
“That’s OK,” I say, even though I have no idea what his reaction was about. “Yes, I’m adopting. I’ve been working on it for about a year and a half, and I’ve finally been approved.”
He smiles sweetly, his eyes soft.
“That’s incredible, Nash. Does your family know? Aidan and Rain haven’t mentioned anything.”
Guilt twinges in my gut, and I swallow back the now-familiar acid taste of it.
“No. I mean, Mum and Dad do, and so does Wren. I had to prove I had a strong support system, and they all had to be vetted, but my brothers don’t know yet. They think they were vetted for a research project I’m doing.”
“How come? You think they won’t approve or something?” His question is fair, and I’m not surprised that’s where his first thoughts go, especially given the hell he’s been through in his life.
“No, it’s not that,” I say, rubbing a hand down my face, then starting the engine and heading back in the direction of my house, the potholed lane requiring all my concentration and making it difficult to chat. Back on the main road, I continue.
“I just don’t want them to get their hopes up,” I say quietly, and even I can hear the shame lacing the concern in my tone.
“But you said you’ve been approved?”
“I have. But I didn’t want to tempt fate, you know?
I couldn’t tell them I was going to be a dad – that they were going to be uncles – if it was all going to fall apart at the last hurdle.
It’s different now that I’ve been approved, and I am planning on telling them, but…
” I pause, realisation of how soon this is all happening hitting me all at once.
“But what?” he asks gently, his hand returning to my arm from where he’d retreated.
“The adoption agency has a matching panel meeting in a few weeks, just before Christmas, and that’s when I’ll hopefully get matched to the right child.
Then it’s a really quick process of meeting them, helping with bedtime at their temporary home, then having them over to my house…
It’s going to be quick, and I just didn’t want them to be all excited about it if something went wrong.
They wouldn’t deal with it well.” Cole’s face pops into my mind immediately.
“What makes you think they wouldn’t handle it? Don’t you think if something went wrong, they would want to be there to support you?” He sounds so much like Shelley at that moment, I laugh. “What?” he asks, a bemused expression lining his features.
“Nothing, you just sounded so much like my ex-wife then.”
“She’s clearly very clever and sensible,” he sniffs.
“She is, and she’ll love you,” I say, knowing it in my bones. Shelley will want to be his best friend, I have no doubt, especially if he tells her how clever and sensible he thinks she is.
“You didn’t answer my question,” he says, just as we pull into the village, and I take the small lane around the other side of the village green to pull into my driveway. Corey looks up at my house through his window and gapes. “This is your house?” he asks, incredulous.
“Yes?” I say, not sounding sure in my answer.
“It’s gorgeous,” he gushes as he climbs out of the truck to get a better look. “I saw it when we were feeding the ducks yesterday and thought as much, but I didn’t realise it was yours.”
“Yeah, I love it. I always wanted to live here, even when I was a kid. Come on in, let’s have a cup of tea, and I promise I’ll answer all your questions.”
It takes about fifteen minutes for both of us to freshen up when we get inside.
I use the bathroom and have a quick wash before offering Corey the same.
I light the log burner in the living room while the kettle boils, and then, returning to the kitchen, I place mugs, a small milk jug, and the sugar bowl on a tray along with a packet of biscuits.
I carry it through and place it on the coffee table, then go back again to pour a little of the almost-boiling water from the kettle into the teapot to warm the pot.
I swill the water around, then pour it away and place three teabags into the pot.
If Mum were here, she’d be moaning about using teabags in the pot instead of leaves, but who has time for the faff of tea leaves?
And teabags brew much better in the pot than in a cup – they need space to steep properly.
It’s science, and I am nothing if not a scientist.
When the kettle finally boils, I pour the water into the pot, place the lid on top, and take it through to the living room, the bobble on the novelty crochet tea-cosy wobbling from side to side with every step.
I find Corey curled up on the sofa in front of the fire, legs folded up underneath him, and one of the chunky knitted blankets from the basket beside him over his knees.
He’s still wearing my cardigan, and the sight of him looking cosy and relaxed on my sofa, my clothes keeping him warm, makes me inexplicably happy.
“I’ll be mother,” he says a few minutes later when the tea is ready to pour. He pours my cup and adds just a splash of milk. “I’m assuming you like your tea as dull as you like your coffee?” he teases.
I scrunch my nose at him as I take the cup.
“The fact you are right about my tea has no bearing on your opinions on what constitutes good coffee.”
We laugh, and I enjoy the peaceful energy he brings with him into my home. I’ve been happy here, but once Shelley’s and my marital home had been sold, and I moved in here, I felt a little bit like I was rattling around for a while. Corey brings a warmth with him that feels like it belongs here.
I don’t linger too much on that train of thought – I can’t.
“So, enough avoiding the question,” he challenges, and I nod. “What makes you think your brothers wouldn’t be able to handle it if, God forbid, something went wrong with the adoption? I mean, is that likely?”
“No, it’s not likely. Now that I’ve been approved, it should be fairly straightforward, but,” I dither a moment, trying to get my reasoning straight in my own mind.
The longer this has gone on, the less reasonable my rationale has felt, and now, trying to verbalise it to an objective person, it seems even more ridiculous.
“It doesn’t make a lot of sense when I’m looking back on the decision not to tell them now, especially when my parents and Wren all know.
But my brothers… Look, Cole, for example, is brash and speaks without thinking sometimes, and can come across as inappropriate, and lewd, and all those things, but anyone who knows him knows it’s all a front.
He’s sensitive – probably the most sensitive of all of us – and if he got attached to the idea of being an uncle, he’d be all in.
He’d be buying gifts left, right, and centre, and it would break his heart if it didn’t happen.
Once he has something in his mind, he finds it really hard to change course.
Part of that is his ADHD, but part of it is just him.
He has a huge heart, and he wears it on his sleeve once you get beneath the facade.
“Archer is a different kettle of fish. He’s a bit harder than Cole; he’s less emotional, but he’s just as big of a softy when it comes to kids and animals.
And Aid? Well…” I trail off, unsure how much Rain has shared with Corey about Aidan’s anxiety disorder.
I don’t want to just put that out there if my brother might not be happy with me for sharing it with someone he barely knows.