by J. D. Ryan
“I keep telling you: I’m not looking for romance. I need to concentrate on raising Ebon.”
Val set down a plate with a little more force than necessary. “You don’t have to spend twenty-four hours a day being Dad, you know? Even the best parents have some down time.”
Kit double-checked to make sure the bedroom door was still closed, that the noise of Ebon’s video game would drown out whatever Kit and Val might say. “I have to be Mom and Dad both, in case you’ve forgotten, and it’s not as easy as you think it is.”
“Oh, Kit. I know it’s not easy, and you do a fantastic job at it. But you can’t keep this up until Ebon’s eighteen. You’re already working what amounts to three jobs. And you spend the rest of your time taking care of your son. When are you going to take care of yourself?”
“I just don’t have time for romance, Val.” Kit pulled the garlic toast from the oven. “If I can’t fit time for myself into my life, how am I supposed to fit another person into things? It won’t work.”
Val pulled the plates from the cupboard. “You just need to prioritize better. I can watch Ebon sometimes—let you spend some time by yourself. Or even with a boyfriend if you want. You might think about cutting back on the time you spend in the clubs. I’m sure you could earn more if you took a job with the orchestra or something.”
“We already talked about that. I’m not interested in that sort of music right now.”
“But you still practice that sort of music. I’ve heard you. And you teach it to your kids, too.”
Kit dished up the noodles. “I teach them all sorts of things, yes. And I have to play to keep my hands in practice. I wouldn’t even get that much in if the school didn’t let me use their piano for my lessons. I don’t think you know how tough it gets, making ends meet.”
Val rounded the table and threw her arm over his shoulder for a quick hug. “I do realize, you know? And I know why you don’t ask Dad for more money.”
“Don’t even go there.” Their father wanted no part in the life of a rock musician with a biracial son. He’d made it clear he would help Kit out only if Kit took a “respectable” job somewhere—maybe even with music as a sideline rather than a career. The only way he’d accepted Julliard was because Kit had gotten a scholarship. And Dad would expect Ebon to attend an elite boarding school somewhere out of his hair. He’d probably prefer it if Kit went back into the closet, too.
“Ebon, time to wash up for dinner.” Kit rapped sharply on the bedroom door.
“Let me get to a save spot.”
Kit set the bowl of sauce on the table beside the basket of garlic toast. “He’s going to take a good ten minutes. Go ahead and start eating.”
Val sat down and helped herself. “I really mean it about the ‘me’ time, Kit. You need some time to socialize with people your own age for a change.”
“I see plenty of people at the restaurant.” Kit rapped on the door once again. “Five minutes until I throw your dinner out.”
“I’m coming!” As this was accompanied by the lowered volume of the video game, Kit returned to the table to dish up his own meal and Ebon’s.
Val waved a slice of garlic toast in his direction. “Waiting on somebody at work isn’t the same as socializing and you know it. I know plenty of nurses who work overtime and still manage to have a social life. You could do it if you wanted to.”
“Maybe I don’t want to, then. Maybe I’m happy with the way things are.”
“You can’t be.” Val’s eyebrows lowered. “You have one day off every week, Kit, and don’t think I don’t know you spend most of that working on your music or cleaning up the apartment or—”
“I go out. I went to the park just this week, for your information.”
Her eyebrow rose. “For what—the length of time it took to drink a cup of coffee? I know you too well, Kit. You spent the rest of the day working, didn’t you?”
Kit said nothing, mostly because he couldn’t deny the accusation. He had gone to the school and put in a couple of hours of practice, then ran a few errands before meeting Ebon after school. And then they’d had to go buy groceries instead of doing anything fun. But he really didn’t want to argue in front of his son, and he heard the click of the bedroom door as Ebon finally came out for dinner.
“Did you wash your hands?” Kit asked.
Ebon heaved a melodramatic sigh and turned back for the bathroom.
“Seriously,” Val said in a lowered voice, “it wouldn’t hurt you to take some time on your day off and find some way to meet people. Mingle at the coffee shop for crying out loud, or visit the library more often.”
“I had a very nice chat with an adult just the other day, actually.”
“Really?” Val leaned forward, barely missing her plate of spaghetti with her elbows.
Kit grinned. “I ran into one of Ebon’s Scout leaders at the park.”
“Brat! That doesn’t count. You spent the time talking about your kid.”
“Not all of the time.” It had been a nice conversation, hadn’t it? If Max Hill were gay, Kit would have said they’d hit it off, all that talk about music—and yes, the joys of teaching and parenting. Too bad Kit would just have to stick to daydreams.
“You know, one of my friends at the hospital has a brother who’s a Scout leader. Maybe you’ll run into him at one of the events or something.”
“Maybe it’s Mr. Lopez or Mr. Hill,” Kit said with another grin. “It’s a small world.”
“Smaller than you know. Her name’s Sophia Hill and her brother’s name is Max.”
Ebon scampered across and dropped into his chair. “That’s Mr. Hill. He’s p cool for an old guy.”
Max couldn’t be more than a couple of years older than Kit, if that. “Thanks a lot, kid. Way to make your old dad feel good.”
Ebon mumbled something around a mouthful of spaghetti.
“And you know better than to talk with your mouth full.”
He swallowed hard. Kit could practically see the lump of pasta travel down his throat. “I said sorry, Dad. I guess you’re not really all that old. Not compared to Mrs. Kennedy.”
Val laughed. “That’s the truth. She must be ready to retire.”
“Past it, I think,” Kit agreed. “She says she loves teaching too much to quit.”
“And you ran into Max Hill at the park.” Val had a suspicious twinkle in her eye that Kit didn’t like.
“You saw Mr. Hill, Dad? Did he say anything about our field trip?”
“I think he mentioned something about a trip to the museum. Sounds like fun.”
Val’s cheek dimpled. “You know he’s gay, right?”
“Who?”
She reached across the table to slap his arm. “Max Hill, you doofus. You ought to ask him out.”
“You never give up, do you?” But Kit’s mind was racing. Max Hill, gay? The hottie currently starring in Kit’s fantasy love-life actually swung the same way Kit did? Maybe God was good after all.
“What have you got to lose? All he can say is no thanks.”
Ebon made a face. “You’re going to go out with Mr. Hill? You’re not going to kiss, are you? That’s gross.”
“For your information, young man,” Val said, swatting Ebon’s arm in turn, “grown-ups like kissing. You’ll figure it out once you’re older.”
“You guys always say that. I’m already seven and I still think that stuff’s gross.”
“And I’m not going out with anybody,” Kit said, grabbing another slice of bread. “I don’t have time for that sort of thing.”
“You know, that’s exactly what Sophia says about her brother. He doesn’t have time for a social life. The two of you are so alike.”
They really did seem to have a lot in common—well, except for that unfortunate hatred for Kit’s brand of music. Of course, Max had said it didn’t bother him when his nephew listened to AC/DC. Maybe Kit ought to try to run into the man again some afternoon, now he knew where Max usually ate lunch
. How much trouble could that be, after all? It’s not as if they’d be dating—just having the odd conversation in the park once a week or so.
What could go wrong?
Chapter 6: Thai for Two
Kit resisted the temptation to check his phone again. It couldn’t be more than five minutes since the last time he’d looked. Either Max Hill would show up at the park with his bag lunch or he wouldn’t. It wasn’t as if it was going to kill Kit either way, right? He’d set out for the park a little early, after all. He didn’t want to be wandering around like he was hunting Max or something. No, it’d be just another accidental meeting.
Kit had chosen his usual bench, figuring if Max was interested, he’d look there first. Big if, but he had seemed to enjoy their conversation. Maybe he’d want another nice chat in a scenic location over a bag lunch in his office. Kit sipped his coffee and tried to look as if he wasn’t scanning the area. The noon sun slanted through the trees, dotting the grass and pathways with leaf patterns. The duck pond sparkled in the light, and the small flock of ducks squawked and fought over the bread crumbs a passing couple had tossed into the water.
Kit spotted a familiar tall figure striding toward the lake and his heart thudded wildly. It was Max, and Kit’s body let him know it was definitely interested in the man. His heartbeat thumped like a bass rhythm and he felt a slow heat building in his groin. His mouth went dry, and he gulped more coffee and pretended he’d been watching the ducks squabble.
“Have you had lunch?” Max asked as he drew closer. “Because I’m tired of sandwiches. Want to try out the new Thai place on the next block?”
“So long as it’s not crazy expensive,” Kit replied. “I can afford a meal out every once in a while.”
He dropped his empty cup into the trash and joined Max on the pathway.
“According to office chit-chat,” Max said, leading the way, “this place is not only inexpensive, but it’s got good food.”
“My kind of place.”
They strolled over one block to the restaurant, a little hole-in-the-wall with “Thai-Phoon” painted on the front window in sea-green. Max and Kit shared a groan and a smile as they went inside. At least the smells that greeted them were encouraging—spicy and meaty, making Kit’s mouth water in anticipation.
They waited a few minutes for a table to be cleared. “Told you the place was popular,” Max said.
Thai-Phoon was clean, at least, and cheerfully decorated. Oriental masks and fans dotted the wall, and an assortment of ceramic animals were ranged along the take-out counter. Once they’d been seated, Max and Kit ordered drinks—tea for each of them, and Kit studied his companion as Max glanced through the menu.
Up close, Max Hill was certainly every bit as delicious as he’d looked from afar. Big brown eyes framed with lashes that must make his sisters envious. Those bee-kissed lips and the rugged jawline beneath them. A muscular chest beneath that button-down white shirt. There was just something about a well-muscled man in a suit. No, Kit was definitely interested. That much was obvious. What was not so obvious was whether he or Kit had time in their busy lives for romance.
However, the fact was, the man had made a move. Whether that move was a romantic one or simply a desire for adult conversation remained to be seen.
Once they’d ordered, Max turned to Kit with an expectant gleam in his eye. “So, tell me how single-parenthood is treating you.”
Kit spent a few minutes explaining their lives, how he and Ebon made it through the days and made ends meet at the end of the pay-week. Max didn’t seem to be bored. In fact, he leaned forward, resting his strong chin on one hand.
“Ebon’s quite a kid,” he said at last. “I wouldn’t mind having one like him myself. Well, if I swung that way, you know.”
So everything was out in the open. Kit swallowed through a suddenly dry throat. Was the ball in his court now? “Er…I’m glad you don’t? Swing that way.”
Max’s white teeth flashed in a grin. “I have to admit I’m glad you don’t swing that way any more myself.”
“It was just the once, actually. Thought I’d see what all the straight boys were raving about. Stupid college prank that turned around and bit me in the ass.”
“Is she still in the picture?”
“Dumped Ebon like a load of dirty laundry and good riddance to her.” Kit still felt the anger at her casual abandonment, though. Ebon deserved more than Kit could give him. Sometimes he thought about tracking her down and making her pay child support.
“She got the short end of the stick,” Max said with a nod. “That’s a great kid. His mother’s missing out on everything, not being in his life. But he’s got a good dad watching his back for him.”
“Be easier if I had a partner, you know?” Kit didn’t know where that bit of truth came from. Surely not the thing to say on your first might-be-a-date.
“Who’s got time for that, though? You work how many jobs on top of being a full-time father?”
“Just two. Waiting tables and music lessons.” Kit crossed his fingers and kept Radioactive out of the conversation. The less said about heavy metal, the better. At least for now.
“‘Just two,’ he says.” Max shook his head. “Three when you count parenthood. And don’t forget all those jobs you do for the school, probably without getting paid a cent for it.”
“Sometimes they let me eat in the lunchroom.”
Max had a delightful laugh, deep and melodic like a French horn or a well-played tuba. Kit wanted to hear that laugh more often. Max didn’t act like the sort of man who laughed nearly enough. Then again, if Kit were being truthful, when was the last time he’d really let go with a belly laugh of his own?
“Ah, elementary school lunches,” Max said, wiping his eyes. “Right up there with mom’s home cooking.”
“Well, if your mom cooks as well as mine does, it’s true.”
Kit decided to make getting Max Hill to laugh his new hobby. “I’ll bet you sing in your church choir,” he said impulsively.
“Mom and my three sisters are always trying to get me to go. I usually have too much paperwork from the office, you know?”
“I do know. My sister’s always after me to loosen up and go out on the town. Says I don’t have a life.”
“Same here.” Max leaned forward once more, those big eyes serious. “Does your sister try to hook you up the way mine always do?”
“Oh, yeah. All the damn time. I keep telling her I can find my own man, once I have time for one.”
“Exactly what I tell my family.”
Their meal arrived, smelling heavenly. Kit dug in with gusto. His curry was perfectly seasoned, the chicken tender and spicy. From the look on Max’s face, his fried rice was just as good. They ate in silence for a few minutes, appreciating the flavor of the foods.
“You know what we ought to do?” Max finally asked, stabbing his fork in Kit’s direction as though it were a baton and himself a music director. “We ought to tell our nosy sisters we’re seeing each other, is what we ought to do. Neither of us has enough free time to shake a stick at. It’ll serve them right if we start spending what little we have with each other instead of listening to them complain about our love lives.”
Kit’s heart let out a sudden thump like a bass drum kicked by a novice. Kit had been imagining Max taking charge, and here he was already, planning a campaign for the two of them. The fact that it would be a fake romance didn’t matter—they’d be spending time together, which was what Kit wanted anyhow. Well, whatever time they had free that is.
“I think we ought to go for it,” he said after his heartbeat calmed a little. “They deserve it. My sister’ll see that I really don’t have as much free time as she thinks I’ve got.”
“And my sisters and mother will wish they’d never suggested I see someone once they realize it means they won’t be seeing much of me at all.”
“Maybe all of them will learn to mind their own business for once.” Kit couldn’t help but gri
n at his companion. “So, how are we going to work this then?”
“Simple. You’re free Tuesdays until school’s out. I’ll just shuffle my schedule a bit, take a half day Tuesdays and work from home Saturday afternoons. Instead of eating with our families, we can eat together at one of our places.”
“You know that’s going to include Ebon, right? Dinner, I mean.”
“Oh sure. I babysit my nieces and nephews all the time anyhow. My apartment’s kid-proof.” Max’s right eyebrow rose. “And I’ve got a Playstation 4.”
“Holy crap, you do? I might be spending some serious time at your place—with or without Ebon.”
“Oh, you are on, dude. One on one next Tuesday.”
Chapter 7: Video Games
“I’ve been cheated!” Max tossed the video controller on the coffee table in disgust. “I can’t believe I taught you this game just an hour ago.”
Kit shrugged, though he felt a little glow of achievement at beating the man. He wasn’t what you’d call a jock, but the tennis game had just seemed to come naturally and he’d found himself pretty good at it. Max didn’t have many adult-type games lying around, not with all those nieces and nephews in and out of his apartment, but what he had looked like a lot of fun. They’d met for an early lunch at the local taco stand, then come straight to Max’s apartment.
Either Max was one of those stereotypical gay men with decorating in their genes, or his sisters had helped him with the apartment. Everything matched, from the faded leather sofa to the geometric pattern in the rug that picked up the red of Max’s drapes. He even had a dining room table and chairs, and from what Kit could see through the half-open door, a king-sized bed with sheets that matched the sofa. Kit’s apartment was decorated a la Goodwill.
“What can I say?” Kit quipped, putting his controller back into the charging station. “I’m a natural.”
There was absolutely nothing romantic about playing video games, but Kit was acutely aware of Max’s presence on the sofa beside him. The muscular body radiated a heat that seemed to scorch Kit’s side. He wanted to move away. He wanted to move closer. He wondered if Max might possibly be feeling the same thing he was.