Chapter 19
Moore
For as much as he couldn’t stand his ex-wife, her extended family welcomed Jordy back with open arms every time he was in town.
The Forsythe family had strong roots in Luview, Maine, almost as strong as the Bilbees or the Luviews themselves, and with a passel of uncles and cousins who ran Love You Handy Jobs, the handyman business in town, Jordy could always be kept busy with some sort of project.
Right now, Slicer Forsythe was building a trebuchet, and Jordy was enthralled.
This gave Moore an unprecedented night out while Jordy was in town. Every moment that he wasn’t working was always spent with Jordy, even if his son wasn’t his biggest fan. He’d always absorbed every drop of time with him as if it were his last, a parched father seeking what he could.
But now? Now he could relax, even if just a little. Jordy was older, wiser, and determined to come back to Luview and live here for the rest of high school.
That call with Cammie hadn’t been just a minor conflict. Warning shots had been fired. Moore’s lawyer, Grant Otterbein, called to tell him her lawyer had threatened a custody battle if he tried to keep Jordy longer than the agreed-upon visit, and he had explained the whole mess.
Grant’s succinct reply: “I’ll go into bulldog mode. And this time, we’ll win.”
That had been his final call before heading here to Bilbee’s, giving him a spring in his step and a sense that all was right with the world.
What more could he want? His son was about to come live with him. Wanted to live with him. He and Colleen were going to hang out with the gang at Bilbee’s, and soon–achingly soon–they would go public with their relationship.
Life was good.
So good, he couldn’t believe it.
“Moore!” Rider Bilbee greeted him as he walked in, approaching the bar. Head shaved clean, and wearing an eye patch, Rider could be mistaken for a man cosplaying a pirate, but you didn’t ever say that to him. “The usual?”
“Am I the first one here?”
“You are!” Even Rider seemed surprised by that. “But we held the table.”
“Thanks. I’ll take a dirty vodka martini and all the usual fried crap Colleen orders for us.”
“No beer?”
“I’m experimenting.”
“Edgy. I love it. Show us your wild side, man.”
“Not too wild. I have Jordy this week.”
As Rider began making his drink, he glanced up, the single eye disconcerting yet familiar at the same time. “Heard he might go to the new high school?”
“That’s what I’m hoping.”
“Would be nice to have him back. He’s a Mottin and a Forsythe, through and through.”
“His uncles and cousins are indoctrinating him over at their workshop.”
Rider snorted and groaned at the same time. “Oh, boy. Slicer?”
“And Trey.”
“Of all the families to combine. He gets the steady, calm Mottins and the, uh–”
“The Forsythes. You don’t need to say another word about them, Rider. I get it.”
“At least you didn’t have a kid with a Morgenstern,” Rider whispered, making Moore laugh.
“How is Lyle doing these days?” he asked. Luke and Lyle Morgenstern had a longstanding feud, which culminated in a huge blowup here at Bilbee’s a while ago, but Moore hadn’t seen Lyle in ages.
“Hell if I care,” was Rider’s tidy reply, one that echoed Moore’s own thoughts.
“Thanks,” he said as he took the drink out of Rider’s outstretched hand.
“Apps coming in platters to the table. How many of you tonight?”
“Six? Eight? Not sure.”
“We have some new spicy breaded shrimp.”
“Bring it on, man. Bring it on.”
“Living large?”
“Something like that.”
As Moore took his first sip of his martini, the front door opened and in walked a laughing foursome:
Luke, Kylie, Kell, and Rachel.
At the sight of them, a piece inside of him tightened and loosened at the same time, craving Colleen’s presence. This would be the first time that they’d ever hung out at Bilbee’s as something other than friends.
He wanted to be a couple. A couple like Rachel and Kell. Luke and Kylie. Sheila and Blake, when they came in.
Dean and Deanna.
His parents would never come to Bilbee’s for darts and hanging out. Too standoffish, they were more the type to attend a string quartet concert than trivia night at the local tavern. Sure, they’d come here for lunch, or one of Rider’s new pop-up bistro dinners, but not this.
Beer, booze, laughs, and killing time together.
“Want your peanut butter cheeseburger?” Rider called out to Moore as the gang descended on the large circular table set aside for them.
“Of course!”
““Peanut butter on a cheese burger? How can you eat that?” Kylie asked with a shudder. Her judgment always made him bristle.
“With my mouth.”
Kell and Rachel moved over to the darts section, where Maisy Bilbee was sitting with a group of friends, her eyes tracking Kell as he passed. They were distant cousins, something like fourth cousins twice removed, but Maisy's crush on Kell was legendary.
Colleen appeared. "Place is quiet tonight, isn't it?" she said.
"Most of the Forsythes are back at their shop, hanging out with Jordy and a bunch of the kids doing the trebuchet."
"Great. That makes darts so much easier tonight."
Bluegrass music began to play softly over the music system in the old bar.
Bilbee's Tavern had been around since 1788, longer than the town itself had existed.
Colleen's ancestors had founded Luview, Maine, but the Bilbee family had been here long before.
While they'd all intermarried over the years, there was still a rivalry.
The Luviews embraced the tourist-town concept of love that dominated, while the Bilbees were curmudgeonly grumps, who tended to reject it.
It was no accident that the tavern's sign was a depiction of a large goat chewing on a red heart, and their slogan, If we don't have it, you shouldn't drink it.
"You ordered a falafel plate, right?" Rachel called out to Moore, who raised his hand, two fingers indicating how many he'd ordered. She smiled back as Kell wrapped his arms around her from behind and helped guide her through a throw that would at least land somewhere close to the target.
The sound of pool in the back room filtered into Moore's ears, the crack of balls being racked and cues against ivory a familiar sound. He looked at Colleen, wishing that he could mimic Kell and wrap his arms around her with such public confidence.
Instead, he took another sip of his dirty martini and dealt with her inquisition.
"No beer?" she asked, clearly surprised.
"I'm trying something different." Plucking the toothpick with olives on it out of his drink, he sucked lightly. One of her eyebrows went up.
“Seems to be a theme for me in life, too." She snuggled up to him, though it had to be a platonic move.
He felt her restraint as dueling parts of her fought for dominance.
"Can we tell Jordy tomorrow?" she asked, her voice so earnest, it cracked something open inside him.
"Yes,” he said, desperate to be done with living in two worlds. "Yes."
She sagged against him in relief and then put a foot of distance between them, looking up at him with soulful eyes.
"I can't play pool or darts with this wrist,” she noted, holding it up as if he didn't know which one had been broken.
She licked her lips, and he wanted to kiss them so badly, he nearly broke his own rule.
His phone buzzed in his pocket and he reached for it. A text from Jordy.
Can I spend the night here at Uncle Slicer’s? Reggie, Tori, and Nathan are staying and we want to have an overnight.
Moore reeled back in surprise. Jordy had never asked for a sleepover with his cousins before.
He held the phone out to Colleen, who had a similar reaction as she read the text.
"Wow." She said slowly. "Are you going to let him?"
"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I? He's never asked for this before."
"Maybe he never asked for it because he knew you wanted to spend every possible moment with him."
Moore had never considered that.
"He could have if he wanted to."
"You know that,” she replied, "but maybe he didn't. Maybe now that he knows he wants to move here and live here permanently, he feels a sense of freedom to ask for more. More that ties him to Luview."
"That's so paradoxical." Moore replied, taking a long sip of his drink. The implications of all of this were coming at him fast and furious.
It was simultaneously wonderful and overwhelming.
A new text appeared.
Dad?
No problem buddy. Have fun. What time should I get you in the morning?
Quickly, Jordy's response appeared.
I'll text you.
Do you need clothes?
I'm fine, Jordy wrote back. If I need pajamas, someone can lend me some. And Uncle Jake says they have extra toothbrushes for guests. I'll just use one of those.
"Is this normal?" He consulted with Colleen. "Do fifteen-year-olds just spend the night spontaneously at other people's houses?"
"Of course they do. You used to spend the night at our house all the time. You and Luke were thick as thieves."
"I know, but that was twenty years ago."
"Childhood hasn't changed that much, Moore."
"It has for me. I feel like I'm being handed a fifteen-year-old and expected to parent him without having the fifteen years of experience behind me."
"You're doing fine. Let him have fun. Let him be connected to his cousins. You're giving him a gift."
"I am?"
"Yes. The fact that he trusts you enough to even ask means that you're getting closer. He'll appreciate you even more tomorrow."
A sudden rush of desire ripped through him.
See you in the morning, kid. Have fun, he texted, then tucked the phone away in his pocket. Racing thoughts filled him. Did he need to ask Cammie about this?
No, damn it. No. He wasn't going to let her dictate every detail of how he parented.
And just like that, Moore had a free night. Jordy was here, but he wasn't spending every second in his orbit. Like a normal parent.
And then there was that desire.