The Single Dad and his Soul Mate

by Rebecca James

  After last year, when Santa had brought a ridiculous number of gifts for one little boy, I’d made my friends promise that I would take care of presents from Santa this year. That didn’t stop them from spoiling Coop with plenty of wrapped gifts, though, and I decided that, after Coop went to bed, I’d choose half of them to give to one of the shelters. There were so many, Cooper would never know the difference.

  For breakfast, I made everyone waffles with an array of toppings. Coop’s favorite was whipped cream, and as it was Christmas, I let him squirt as much as he wanted on his stack, although I cut him off after he poured a cup of mini chocolate chips over the top. Jessica and I stuck with fruit on our waffles, but Gloria had Coop laughing with the amount of chocolate syrup, maraschino cherries, and jellybeans of all things she heaped on her stack. Jess and I kept sharing disgusted looks, but Glo and Coop were having a great time eating their decadent meal. We stayed all day, playing games in front of a tall tree blinking with tiny colorful lights. But the weather was calling for snow and Cooper was getting tired and cranky, so eventually I packed us up for home. We parted from our friends with lots of hugs and Merry Christmases.

  Coop napped in the car only to wake up wanting popcorn and a movie as soon as I carried him through the door. I wasn’t too surprised when he conked out halfway through Elf, a fistful of popcorn clutched in his hand. I carried him to bed, and he didn’t wake when I washed his face and hands with a cloth. I tucked him in and stood smiling at his red and green pajamas and how he was snuggling his new teddy bear. In the living room, I stared for several minutes out the window at the snow falling before closing the blinds. My phone buzzed on the table with a text. I expected it to be Tyson; we’d been seeing each other a couple times a week but keeping our relationship squarely in the friend zone. Truth be told, I was pretty impressed he’d stuck with his word on that. Hanging out with him couldn’t entirely keep me from thinking of a certain Italian, but it helped.

  I froze when I saw the text was from Matteo. Two words.

  Merry Christmas.

  I gripped the phone. I shouldn’t text back. What would be the point? I would tell him Merry Christmas, and he would ask if we’d had a good one, and then, before I knew it, we’d be in a conversation, and then he’d be over here, and we’d fall in bed together and start the whole thing over again.

  I couldn’t do it. No. Never again.

  Quickly, before I could change my mind, I erased Matteo’s contact information from my phone.

  Crazy how such a small thing could hurt so much. It broke something in me. I cried for a long time, which I hadn’t done since the night I’d told Matteo to go. Head aching, I wondered for the millionth time why Matteo couldn’t just face his grandmother and tell her the truth. Sometimes I thought I understood, but then I told myself if the shoe were on the other foot, there was no way I could keep myself from him.

  Was he right about me? Did I truly not understand what it was like to have a strong familial bond? If I had someone in my life like that would I willingly hurt them to be with the man I loved?

  I sighed and blew my nose into a tissue, reminding myself yet again that when Matteo and I had been together, my growing resentment at having to hide what we were to each other had eventually begun to poison our relationship. It was why I’d decided to leave the first time and why I’d driven Matteo away a few weeks ago. I’d felt that same resentment cropping up in the last few days we’d spent together and knew things would only get worse. Matteo seemed to have no problem with seeing me on the sly, but that was not the kind of relationship I wanted. I’d been weak to give into the attraction he had over me. It wouldn’t happen again. I had Cooper to think about.

  Eyes sore and nose stuffy, I stared at the card propped on my nightstand. On the front, a reindeer wearing a colorful poncho danced on two legs under the words Feliz Navidad. Heather was living in Mexico. Inside the card, she’d written that she’d met a guy and made sure to tell me he didn’t want kids any more than she did. Obviously, she thought I might be worried she’d want Coop back, but she needn’t be—the first thing I’d done after my son was born was hire a lawyer and make sure my custody of him was airtight. She wished me and my son a Merry Christmas. She didn’t ask for a picture of Coop. She never did. I didn’t understand it but knew it was better that way.

  Finally giving up on sleep, I pulled myself out of bed and took a shower. A couple of cups of strong coffee went a long way in reviving me. With Adam now working for me, I was able to spend more time doing things I’d always had to put off in the past, such as working on the website for Flynn’s Stones. Joey had told me that Adam had had a couple of mini seizures at work and had been distraught about it and almost quit, but Joey had managed to reassure him the customers had never noticed and everything was fine. Recently I’d increased Adam’s hours, although I never scheduled it so he was alone. I spent the morning on the computer, stopping to make Cooper breakfast and to read him a couple of his new books before pulling out his Legos and going back to my computer while he played on the floor nearby.

  When Coop was napping—something many of the guys in the Dad’s group told me I was lucky he was still doing at his age—a knock on the door jerked me out of my work. When I answered, I was surprised to find Tyson on the other side.

  “Hey,” I said.

  He smiled. “Hey, yourself. I stopped by to bring a little gift.”

  My mouth dropped open as he held out a package wrapped in Santa Claus paper.

  “It’s for Coop,” he clarified, and I relaxed a little.

  “Come in.”

  “You look cute,” Tyson said, and I blushed. I had on an old thrift store Hey Arnold T-shirt and a pair of cut-off jeans with red wool socks on my feet. “You do know it’s twenty degrees outside, right?”

  “I’m not outside,” I said, not failing to take note that years ago he would have outright told me to put on a sweater. I’d been noticing things like that since we’d started hanging out. He had changed. “Have a seat. Want a drink? Or something to eat? I was about to make myself a grilled cheese sandwich.”

  “That actually sounds kind of good.” Tyson followed me into the kitchen and sat at the table while I put the sandwiches together and fried them up.

  “You off today?” He wore jeans and a long-sleeved jersey on his big frame. He seemed to take up half the kitchen with his presence.

  “Yep. I worked Christmas Eve and Christmas.”

  “That sucks,” I said.

  “We’re trying to break a case.” He picked up one of the carrot sticks I’d put on the table and dipped it in ranch dressing.

  We were finishing up our sandwiches and arguing politics when Tyson looked past me and said, “Hi.”

  I turned to find my son peering around the doorway. Holding out my arm, I motioned for Coop to come to me. He hurried over like someone might snatch him on the way, and I wrapped my arm around him.

  “Cooper, this is my friend, Tyson.”

  “Hi,” Coop said before digging his forehead into my ribs. As yet, Tyson and I had only seen each other when Coop was at his play group or with Jess and Glo.

  “Hi,” Tyson said. “Last time I saw you, you were this big.” He held his hands to show the size of a large watermelon, which was probably accurate. Coop was small for his age.

  “Tyson brought you a Christmas present,” I said. “Wasn’t that nice of him?”

  Cooper nodded against my side, and I kissed his head.

  “He’s a little shy,” I said to Tyson.

  Coop climbed onto my lap and ate the rest of my sandwich and carrot sticks.

  “Go get your present. It’s on the table,” I told him when he’d finished. We could hear him tearing at the paper, then he came running back in carrying a toy motorcycle.

  “Oh, wow,” I said. “That’s so cool.” I looked at the toy, which was more of a model and a little above Coop’s age range.

  “I noticed all the pictures he draws of them,” Tyson said.
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br />   “Thank you,” Coop whispered to Tyson, who probably looked the size of a mountain to him, before sidling closer to me.

  “You’re welcome,” Tyson said. “I’m glad you like it.”

  “You need to be careful with this, buddy. It’s nice and might break.”

  We went into the living room, and Tyson and I took up our conversation again while Coop made motor noises and swooped his toy around the room, skimming it across the top of the chair then gliding it down to the floor, then up the leg of the table.

  I was pretty liberal in my thinking in general, and Tyson had some conservative ideas when it came to politics that I didn’t agree with. I was surprised when he didn’t get heated over our discussion. He used to be so overbearing. Again, I considered maybe therapy really had helped him.

  “Mad’s got a modocycle,” Coop suddenly said during a lull in the conversation. He peeked at Tyson. “A real one.”

  “That’s cool.” Tyson smiled. “Who’s Mad?”

  “A friend of Daddy’s.”

  Tyson looked at me.

  I cleared my throat. “Matteo. He has a Harley.”

  “Mad wears a leather jacket,” Coop said.

  “Does he? He a big guy?”

  Coop nodded, then seemed to think about it. “Not as big as you.”

  He edged a little closer to Tyson with his toy before deciding he wasn’t quite that brave and veering off toward the hall where we could hear him making the motor noises all the way to his room.

  “You seeing this Matteo guy?” Tyson asked me after a beat of silence during which I struggled to recover from what had just happened. Just hearing Matteo’s name rattled me, and that was so unfair.

  “No,” I said.

  Tyson’s deep brown eyes were unreadable. “You sure? Maybe that’s why you don’t want to date me.”

  I shook my head. “It’s not why. I told you why, although I’ll admit you really seem to have changed. But I’m not looking for a relationship at the moment. Friends is enough—if you still want that.”

  Tyson visibly relaxed. “Yeah. I do.” He remained another hour, telling me about his partner at work and what a nitpicker he was, making me laugh, before leaving. I could tell he would rather have stayed, but I didn’t ask him to. I had things to do.

  I called Coop from his room and the two of us went downstairs to the shop. While we were there, I chose a few crystals and geodes to take up to the apartment that would help my troubled mind. Septarian for peace. Cut in a way that revealed the cracks of its insides, the geode reminded me of a tortoise shell. I already had citrine for happiness. I picked up some malachite—beautiful blue stones that would help me to release and transform. And pyrite, for power. I ran my finger over its silver exterior which almost looked as though it had been spray-painted to be a backdrop in some alien movie.

  I’d gotten interested in crystals, geodes, and other metaphysical matter when I was in junior high. Lonely and always weighed down with that feeling of being unwanted, I’d liked the idea of being connected with the earth and that the earth could give me energy, kind of like a superhero.

  Joey and Adam had left the shop in good order when they’d worked Christmas Eve morning, so after I looked at the books and checked inventory, Coop and I headed back upstairs. I’d open the shop tomorrow, but I planned to spend the rest of the day enjoying time with my son.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Matteo

  Nonna’s fever cleared up, and I was able to bring her home a few weeks before Christmas at which time it quickly became obvious that I’d need help taking care of her. Maria offered, but I’d put her off, not wanting to take advantage.

  After I took several days off work due to Nonna’s surgery, my boss had wound up telling me to forget about the two weeks’ notice I’d offered. At that point, I’d been in to see Cane a few times to go over my new duties, and although he’d assured me I didn’t have to rush, I needed the money and had wanted to start as soon as possible. I’d called the home health people, and they’d said Nonna’s insurance would cover them coming by once a day to assist with bathing and physical therapy, but that wasn’t enough. I’d needed a full-time nurse if I wanted to avoid having to put Nonna in a nursing home. So as much as I’d hated it, I’d ended up having to take Maria up on her offer to stay with Nonna when I or the home health people couldn’t be there, just until I could afford to hire a nurse.

  “She’s a wonderful girl,” Nonna had said to me at least once a day throughout the holidays. “And she’s been so good to me. I love her like a granddaughter.”

  Yes, I enjoyed being with Maria. But I was in love with Flynn.

  So what are you going to do, never be with anyone? a voice inside me asked. It didn’t make sense. I couldn’t be with Flynn—although he’d say I wouldn’t—but I wasn’t going to let myself be with anyone else either. If I was so dead set against having an openly gay relationship, what was I doing? No self-respecting man would consent to a closeted relationship with a man my age, which left me with young guys who wouldn’t stick around long. I didn’t want any man other than Flynn anyway. Again, what was I doing, then?

  Waiting until Nonna dies, my mind supplied, guilt washing over me yet again. I told myself I wasn’t. There was no guarantee Flynn would still be around at that point anyway. Hell, he hadn’t even replied to my Merry Christmas text.

  “What are you doing for New Year’s Eve?” Maria interrupted my troubled thoughts. It was a few days after Christmas, and I’d just finished my second week at my new job and had gotten home to find Maria had cooked an enormous meal of pork chops, mashed potatoes, asparagus, and apple pie. Nonna immediately made an excuse about wanting to eat dinner in her room, leaving the two of us in an uncomfortably domestic scene.

  “Just a quiet night here,” I said casually. “This smells wonderful.”

  “Dig in. I made enough for an army. I’m used to cooking for all my sisters and brothers. I have eight.”

  My eyes widened. “Wow. Typical Catholic family, I guess.” I wondered if my parents would have had more children if my mother hadn’t passed away and what that might have been like. I decided nothing could be better than having my club brothers with me.

  I took a bite of potatoes and had to close my eyes to fully process how good they were.

  “I was going to go out with friends, but plans changed and now it looks like I don’t have anything to do. I can stay with Isabella if you want to go out,” Maria said.

  Cane had asked all the guys to a fancy party at Lux, the gay club in Manhattan that Cane and Tony belonged to. I didn’t feel right leaving Maria babysitting Nonna to do that, though, and was content to stay at home.

  “That’s okay,” I said. “I’ll just watch the ball drop on TV.” As the next few seconds ticked by in silence, I couldn’t stop myself from adding, “You can keep me company if you want.”

  Maria’s eyes lit up. “That sounds like fun. I’ll bring something good to eat.”

  So, that was decided.

  ****

  Maria brought homemade French onion dip, chips, hot wings with various dunking sauces, caramel corn, and chocolate chip cookies. And she made margaritas.

  “I’m going to gain fifty pounds,” I said, looking over it all after I’d helped her carry it in from her car. “I’ve already had to start working out early in the morning.” Cane had a gym in his building, and I’d begun leaving an hour early so I could run and lift weights, which worked out well with the home health lady, who usually arrived at six a.m.

  “How do you stay so slim?” I asked Maria, then could have kicked myself for mentioning her body when I was trying hard not to give her the wrong impression.

  “You’re sweet,” she said, color rising in her cheeks. “I have an elliptical machine at home I try to use at least three times a week.” In the yoga pants and clinging sweater that fell off her shoulder, I could definitely tell. Maybe I should try to fix her up with someone. Tease, maybe. Was Trace gay? Hell, even when
I thought I knew my club brothers’ preferences, I was usually proved wrong in the end. Still, maybe it was worth a try.

  “You know, I have a friend you might like,” I said. “His name’s Jared.”

  Maria looked at me questioningly. “Why do you think I’ll like him?”

  I scrambled for a reason. “I don’t know. You kind of have similar personalities. I think he’s from a big family too.” I wasn’t sure about that last part.

  I’d been standing at the window watching the snow, and when I turned around, Maria was so close we were almost touching. A few inches shorter than I was, even with the heeled boots she had on, she looked up into my face.

  “Why are you trying so hard, Matteo?”

  I blinked. “What do you mean?”

  “You seem very adamant about not wanting there to be anything between us, and I just don’t understand why. That date we went on was sort of awkward, but since then I feel we’ve developed a friendship. Don’t you?”

  “Well, sure.”

  “But you aren’t attracted to me at all? Not even a little bit?” She stepped closer.

  “It’s not that, Maria. It’s really not. I just don’t want to hurt you.”

  She laid her hand on my arm. “How are you going to hurt me?”

  I blew out a breath. “I-I…”

  She kissed me, and I went with it but didn’t do anything to push things toward a passionate level. When she pulled back, I said, “That was nice.”

  “Just nice?” she asked, a smile forming on her lips. “You know, I might be a nice Catholic girl,” she took my hands and placed them on her hips, “but I’m not that nice.”