Chapter 10
Will arrives right on time.
I open the door, and his eyes do a slow drag from my face down to my shoes and back up again, and when he opens his mouth, I already know what he’s going to say. I’ve already heard it from Addie.
“Don’t,” I tell him, leaving him to go back to the mirror where I’m attempting to do something to my hair. He follows me inside, but doesn’t go further than the doorway, staying to watch me in the mirror.
“That’s what you’re wearing,” he says, glaring at the polo I’ve paired with my favorite khakis.
“This is my good shirt.”
He tilts his head, studying the shirt like it’s something around the practice that needs fixing. “When did you get it?”
“I don’t know. A few years ago.”
“How few?” I start to respond before realizing it’s been more than a few years.
“Dad.” Addie appears at the top of the stairs, Emmett in tow. She looks at Will, and a silent conversation I don’t like happens there.
“Don’t start,” I tell her when she stops beside him, both of them staring at me like I’m an animal in the zoo. Thankfully, Emmett stays entirely out of it, and that’s why he’s my favorite.
“I look fine,” I say to both of them.
“You look like you’re going to a parent-teacher conference.”
“I am a parent.”
“You’re going on a date, Dad.”
I look down at my shirt. It’s a perfectly good shirt. Gray and professional and clean.
“The purple one,” Will contributes with a snap of his fingers. “You know, the purple button-up you wore to dinner the other week.”
I try not to react, keeping my eyes on myself in the mirror. I don’t read into the fact that he remembers what I was wearing. He’s trying to help me. “Okay,” I say, my voice coming out a bit too soft.
I change into the purple button-up, and I think they might be right. When I get back downstairs, Addie does an excited clap, bouncing on her heels. “Much better.”
I glare at her, but while I’m distracted by my daughter’s antics, I miss Will looking me up and down and letting out an exaggerated whistle. “Alright, now we’re talking. Looking good, Doc.”
“Don’t—”
“Just saying.” He shrugs, a smirk tugging at his lips. “I’d do you.”
“I—” I try to say something, but the words don’t come, and before I can, Addie lets out a shriek of laughter, covering her face with both hands. “Oh my god, Uncle Will!”
“What?” he says with a laugh, finding her reaction hilarious. I feel like I might melt right here.
“That’s so gross!”
Emmett loses his fight with the laughter he was holding in, while Addie hides her face in his shoulder, and all of a sudden, three people are laughing at the idea of us being something, but all I can think is—
I wanted him.
“You’re all disgusting,” I manage to say.
“Dad, are you blushing?” Addie asks, delighted by my misery.
I grab my jacket off the hook by the door, turning my back to all three of them while I pull it on so they can’t see my face anymore. “I’m leaving,” I announce. “Before I give you up for adoption.”
“Have fun,” Addie calls through her uncontrollable giggling.
“Good luck,” Will adds. “We won’t wait up.”
Behind me, I hear Will say something that makes Emmett laugh again, and I’m not sure I want to know what it is, so I pull the door shut behind me, breathing in the cool air.
I’d do you.
I rub my temples, like I can somehow scrub that sentence from my brain.
He was messing with me. That’s what Will does. It’s always what he’s done, and I’m going on a date with Karen. That’s what matters.
I’ve never been to the bar Karen chose. A new place with dim lighting and dark wood seating. Fancier than I would think Rosehill could handle, but there are a few people around, wearing nice dresses and suits.
Maybe I should have taken Addie’s advice and put a bit more effort into what I’m wearing.
I notice Karen as soon as she strolls through the glass doors, wearing a dark red dress that hugs her curves and lipstick to match. She really is a beautiful woman. “Nolan,” she says when she approaches, greeting me with a hug.
I can do this.
We settle onto barstools side by side, and I order a whiskey I don’t plan on drinking while she orders a red wine the same shade as her dress. She crosses her legs toward me, her heel an inch from my shin.
I admire her in this moment. She seems relaxed. Comfortable in a setting that’s anything but.
“To getting out of the house,” she says, lifting her glass toward mine.
“I’ll drink to that.”
She has a nice smile. Straight teeth. “I can’t remember the last time I sat at a bar with someone and had a drink. But I probably shouldn’t be admitting how sad my life is on a first date.”
“I understand more than you know,” I say, and that’s the truth. Even before Jess left, we hadn’t been out just the two of us in years.
“How old are yours?” she asks, putting her hand on my arm, resting against the bar. I try to feel something from her touch, but all I feel is a hand on my skin.
“Seventeen and six,” I say, taking a drink from my whiskey. “Tyler is ten now, correct? He’s a nice kid.”
“He really is,” she says, softening at the mention of her son. “He’s been having a hard time of it though, making friends, fitting in with kids who’ve known each other forever.”
“It takes time,” I say, gently, relaxing into the conversation. This, I can talk about. “Rosehill can feel closed off, but soon enough, it’ll be like you’ve been here forever.”
She purses her lips. “Were you born here?”
“Born and raised. Never saw any reason to leave.”
“I always wanted that. Somewhere that felt like home. We moved around a lot when I was still with my ex and—” she shakes her head. “It’s very different now.”
“What brought you to Rosehill?”
She shrugs her shoulders, making her hair bounce. “I don’t know. Something about it seemed peaceful.” She laughs at herself a little. “That sounds crazy.”
“No, it doesn’t.” She’s not wrong. Rosehill is peaceful for some. But I think about Will, struggling to find work. Being judged wherever he goes. The way you’re treated here if you don’t fit the mold.
I never thought bad about my town. I was proud to be from Rosehill. But right now? I don’t know if I’d pick it.
There’s a lull in conversation when the bartender refills her glass, but it picks back up easily.
She asks about the practice, and I ask about being a hairdresser.
She tells me about her sister who lives an hour away.
I make the mistake of bringing up my in-laws, and I can tell that doesn’t sit well, but I move past it, asking if her son plans on playing basketball this year.
She never asks about Jess.
I wouldn’t know what to say if she did.
I’m not much of a drinker. I never have been. And that’s clear by the mostly full cup of whiskey still sitting in front of me. Karen doesn’t share that quality.
On her third glass of wine, her posture loosens up even more than it already was, and her laugh comes more easily. She leans toward me when she talks, putting her prominent cleavage on display. My eyes dart down on instinct, I am only human, but when they meet hers again, she seems pleased.
Like that was the goal.
I never thought this would be my life, sitting at a bar with a woman approaching tipsy, getting to know each other. But I think about what my life would look like if this became something. She’s nice, and she’s funny, and she’s beautiful.
She has a son a few years older than Ollie.
There are no butterflies. But I’m forty five years old with two kids and a wife who left me. I’m not sure I believe in butterflies anymore.
Maybe that’s not what I should be looking for.
Maybe what I should be looking for is this. A good woman who laughs at my jokes even though I’m not funny. A woman I can build a life with. Maybe the rest of it will come later.
By the time I check my watch, it’s nearly eight. I’m surprised to feel a twinge of disappointment that the evening is ending.
“I have to get back,” I say, cutting her off mid-story about a client who hated their hair even though she gave them exactly what they wanted.
She waves her hand like she completely understands, and I’m sure she does.
I pay the bill and lead her out of the bar, her heels clicking loudly on the hardwood floor.
“I had a really nice time,” she says, stopping in front of my car.
There’s a question on her face, wondering if I’m going to kiss her, but I’m not sure I’m ready for that. So I put my hands in my pockets, taking a step back. “We should do it again sometime.”
“I’d like that,” she says, matching my retreat with a wave. “Text me.”
For the first time in weeks, I feel okay with things. I had a nice time, and I’m going to text her. I barely thought about Will.
Everything is back on track, and whatever those strange feelings were, it doesn’t matter now.
They’re gone.
The house is dark when I get home. No TV or toys, playing music. Dark. Empty.
“Ollie?” I shout, something’s wrong blaring over and over in my head before I’ve even looked. “Will?”
No one answers.
I check the kitchen and the living room. I take the stairs two at a time to find Ollie’s bedroom light off and the room empty. I pull my phone out of my pocket on the way back downstairs, dialing Will’s number. It rings and rings, and it goes to voicemail.
I hang up and call again.
“I’m sorry, but the person you have called is unavailable.”
I’m freaking out at this point, my heart pounding and my breathing out of control, my skin prickling with fear because my son isn’t here and I let Will watch him. I let a man who spent the last seven years in prison watch my six year old son and—
“Where are you?” I say into the phone, my hands trembling at my ear. “Call me back right now.”
I don’t wait for him to call me back. I’m in the car, reversing out of the driveway before I even know where I’m going. But I can’t do nothing. I have to look for them. Maybe they’re at Joyce and Frank’s. Or maybe—
Will loves the kids. He’s never given me any reason to believe he would hurt him, to justify what I’m feeling, this panic clawing at my lungs until I can’t breathe.
Except that I don’t actually know him.
He’s been back a few weeks. I don’t know what he’s been through. I don’t know what he’s capable of, and I left my child with him to go on a date I didn’t even want to go on and—
There they are.
Two figures, one man, one kid’s little legs pumping up and down on the swing, coming into view in the dim daylight as I turn into the small parking lot of the neighborhood playground.
Will is off to the side, watching him while Ollie pushes higher and higher, and relief hits me so hard I feel like I’ve been knocked on my ass.
That lasts all of five seconds before it’s replaced with blind rage.
Will hears me coming, turning at the sound of my footsteps, the smile on his face falling when he sees the expression on mine. “Hey, man,” he starts.
“What the hell,” I say, cutting him off, and I’ve never shouted at anyone. It’s not in my nature. Except right now, it is. “I told you to stay at the house!”
Will’s eyes move to Ollie, who’s still swinging in his own little world. “He wanted to go to the park. I figured—”
“I told you to stay at the house,” I repeat, stopping in front of him, my hands balled into fists.
“Dude, what’s your problem?” he asks, his voice taking on an edge to match mine. “He’s been cooped up in the house all day, and he wanted to swing. It’s two minutes away—”
“You didn’t answer your phone.”
“I left it in my jacket, I must not have heard it.” He gestures to his jacket resting across the park bench, and it makes sense. He didn’t mean to scare me. But my anger doesn’t care about what he meant to do.
“I called you three times! I got home, and my son was gone—”
“He’s right there.” He points at Ollie. “He’s been right here the whole time. Two minutes from your house. I’m not an idiot—”
I scoff at his words. “Are you sure about that? Because I asked you to do one thing and you couldn’t even do that!”
His expression changes at my words, going from angry to something else entirely. Almost hurt. Before he takes a step back, shaking his head. “I should have known you’d do this. Act like I can’t be trusted with—” He looks away, clenching his jaw. “He’s my nephew, Nolan. For god’s sake.”
“I know he is, but that doesn’t—”
“Do you?” he challenges, a crack in his voice.
“Because you act like it’s a matter of time before I do something.
I already can’t get a job because of who I am.
Can’t walk into a room without people backing up, staring at me like I’m a freak.
And now I can’t even take my nephew to the park without you showing up like—” He cuts himself off, pressing his lips together.
“Like what?” I challenge, stepping into his space, and I know I should stop, but I can’t. I can’t stop when I grab his shirt. “Don’t act like I don’t know your history, Will. I was there. And I can’t trust you after what you’ve done.”
“I was there too, you know,” he says, going quiet. “I would never hurt him. I would never hurt either of them. You know that.”
I do know that.
I do.
We’re close, and my anger is fading at the defeated look in his eyes, and now, I’m all too aware of the feeling of his chest against my knuckles, and his breath fanning my face. I should really let go of his shirt.
I take a step closer.
“I know,” I say, my voice coming out rough.
“Then why?”
“I was scared.” The words come out before I can stop them. “I came home, and you weren’t there, and I was scared.” I meet his eyes. “I don’t know what I’m doing most of the time.”
Will opens his mouth to say something, and I know that because my eyes dart down to his lips, chapped from the fall air. When he licks them, I get the strangest feeling of jealousy. That I’ve never wanted to taste something so bad.
And then I am.
My lips are crashing into his, pulling him closer by the fabric of his shirt still twisted in my hand—
“Daddy!” Ollie’s voice cuts into the silence.
I pull back at the sound, and I only get a split second to look at Will, who’s standing there with eyes wider than I’ve ever seen, his hands paused mid-air, before Ollie is running toward me at full speed. “You’re back!”
I catch him, hugging him back with all of my strength, but over his shoulder, I meet Will’s gaze, where he’s still watching me with an expression I’ve never seen before.