Resilience

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Resilience Page 19

by Tymber Dalton


  Chloe finally turned her attention to Colin. “Hello.” Six years old, she was small for her age and looked closer to four. She was starting to catch up developmentally, thanks to intensive therapy to overcome the effects of her teenaged birth mother’s drug use during her pregnancy. Karen and Bill had adopted Chloe when she was less than a month old.

  Andrew jumped in. “Sweetheart, this is Colin. He’s spending the weekend with me.”

  Chloe cocked her head in the adorable way she had when she was puzzling something out. “Are you gonna stay here a lot?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Are you gonna move in?”

  Andrew resisted the urge to jump in when he saw Colin smile. “I don’t know the answer to that yet, sweetie.”

  Chloe grinned. “If you move in, would I have two grandpas?”

  Karen and Bill barely disguised their laughter with coughing fits. Andrew was more focused on Colin and his answer.

  “I suppose you would,” Colin said as he glanced Andrew’s way.

  “You have to learn how to make cinnamon rolls.”

  “Andrew started teaching me that this morning.”

  She nodded, a grave look on her face. “Cinnamon rolls are important.”

  “I’ll remember that.”

  With that, Chloe headed to her bedroom to put her things away.

  Andrew smiled. “First barrier—passed.”

  * * * *

  At eleven thirty, Nevvie let out a huge yawn where she sat on the couch and was going through Tyler’s e-mail. Earlier, she’d thought about calling the guys, except Tommy had told her he was going to try to get Tyler to go out tonight to get his mind off Marcus. The last thing she wanted was him worrying needlessly about the kids or anything else.

  Thus…e-mail.

  Sometimes, it felt like the majority of what she did was go through Tyler’s e-mail, or post to his social media accounts as him, or do other administrivia related to promotion for his books.

  Still, e-mail was something to do to keep herself awake while awaiting her kids’ return from the party. Adam had already gone to bed.

  Aaaand there was another e-mail from Crystal, with a plethora of follow-up questions from their talks earlier in the day. Three phone conversations—and now this.

  Goddammit.

  Crystal was seriously starting to get on her nerves. Maybe she was good at her job where social media was concerned, but she needed some serious work on her people skills. It almost seemed like Crystal didn’t have a life outside of her screen, and she didn’t remember that others did. Crystal also seemed to assign an urgency to Tyler’s social media that Nevvie didn’t feel was warranted for an experienced author like Tyler.

  This can wait until tomorrow.

  She marked the e-mail as unread so she’d see it in the morning and moved on to the next.

  It actually shocked her when she heard Mikey’s truck in the driveway a moment later. Nevvie had figured, considering how close the Ironsides lived to them, that the kids would be rolling in right before midnight.

  Zoey was the first through the door. She didn’t even speak to Nevvie as she headed for the stairs.

  “Hey, how was the party?”

  “Stupid.” Zoey charged up the stairs.

  “Uh, good night, love you.”

  “Love you, too,” Zoey called back.

  Willow and Mikey made it through the front door. “I take it the object of Zoey’s attention didn’t feel a mutual spark?”

  Willow rolled her eyes so hard she could have scored a strike in two different lanes. “Now Cole is apparently an asshat, according to her. She didn’t want to talk about it.”

  Nevvie set her tablet aside. “Should I go talk to her?”

  Mikey snorted. “Only if you want to get into a fight with her. I don’t know what happened, but she’s the reason we’re home earlier than curfew. She asked for the keys from me so she could start the truck and sit in the AC. She got pissy with me when I told her no, and I figured rather than her being a butthead and embarrassing me in front of my friends that I needed to get her home.”

  “That’s weird.”

  “Well, I saw Cole snuggled up with Patty Chester right before we left. So Zoey’s probably mad he didn’t pay her much attention for most of the night despite her talking to him earlier. Patty’s a senior.”

  “Ah. Maybe I should leave it alone then.”

  “I would,” Willow said. “We tried to warn her he’s a jerk, but she didn’t want to listen. I think she’s more upset that we were right and she was wrong.”

  “Other than that, did you guys have a good time?”

  “Yeah,” Willow said. “Mikey’s friends aren’t totally lame.” She elbowed him in the side, making him laugh. The kids headed upstairs.

  Nevvie made sure the doors were locked and armed the alarm before she headed to bed. It was probably best she let Zoey work it out on her own. The twins were at that age where if they waited five minutes their moods would change. Especially Zoey. Even more mercurial than Willow like that, and with more than a little of the Kinsey attitude. Definitely Tommy’s daughter, where Willow was far more calm and laid back, like Tyler.

  She’ll snap out of it in a day or two and have a new crush to obsess over.

  * * * *

  Andrew thought dinner and the rest of the evening went well. At one point, while heading to the kitchen, where Colin and Karen were doing dishes, he caught the tail end of Karen hugging Colin, whispering something in his ear.

  As the two men settled in bed, Andrew had to ask. “What did Karen say to you earlier, love?”

  “When?”

  “The little whispered interlude in the kitchen.”

  “Oh, that.” Colin rolled onto his side, draping an arm over Andrew’s stomach. “She said she hoped I would be a permanent addition to the family.”

  Andrew’s eyes snapped open. “She did?”

  “Yeah. Said anyone who could make you smile as much as you had tonight was more than welcomed to stay.”

  The prickle of tears in his eyes caught Andrew by surprise. He blinked, trying to clear his vision. “And your thoughts?”

  “I’m hoping you won’t regret inviting me to sit next to y’all at the game last night.”

  “Never, love. Don’t ever think that.”

  A weary-sounding sigh escaped Colin. “Don’t be so quick to swear that. You haven’t had to deal with Susan’s meddling in my life yet.”

  “You are an adult. What is she going to do?”

  “She could try to make life miserable for you.”

  “With whom? Listen to me. While I am not a millionaire or anything close to it, I am comfortably well off. The house is paid for. I am a pensioner. I inherited a substantial bank account when Peggy died, not to mention her life insurance policy. My son and his spouses are wealthy in their own right and have long ago, many times, sworn to me not to worry about my twilight years because I shall be cared for. I doubt Publix will stop selling me groceries just because the homophobic woman tries to spread nonsense about me or whom I love.”

  “You haven’t met her,” Colin said.

  “Correction—she has not yet met me. Rest assured, I will make that woman rue the day she ever heard of me if she thinks she will bully me. If I’m not enough to scare her away, I’ll simply step aside and let Nevvie, Thomas, and Tyler take care of her for us. That is a battle she will regret initiating, if it gets that far.”

  Colin nestled closer, flesh pressed against flesh. “I wish I felt as certain as you sound.”

  He kissed the top of Colin’s head. “I shall take care of it all, love. All you need to do is trust me. I shan’t let you down.”

  But as Colin drifted to sleep in his arms, Andrew lay there, awake and wondering what kind of horrible woman Susan must be to treat her father the way she had. Under any other circumstances, he might have slowed the progress of his relationship with Colin due to doubting the man’s version of events.

  Except t
hat Andrew had already been through a nasty divorce to a shrew of a woman who it sounded like Susan was a soulmate to. Not to mention Emily and her nonsense, some of which he’d witnessed firsthand.

  That meant he bloody well could believe someone would be so vindictive and nasty. The only reason Delores didn’t follow through on her threats to out him to the school he taught for was that she knew if he was unemployed, he wouldn’t be able to pay child support.

  At least he’d proven the old axiom of living well being the best revenge. Delores was wasting away in a nursing home with no clue about her own name, much less his, while he enjoyed a good relationship with all three of his children, their spouses, and his grandchildren.

  If Susan thought she could scare him away from Colin, she would have one hell of a fight on her hands.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Tyler lay awake in bed as dawn crept up Sunday morning. He’d spent all night reading through Marcus’ files and had viewed maybe a quarter of them before joining Tommy in bed twenty minutes earlier. Yet he couldn’t sleep. His mind raced, sorting through what he’d read.

  They were…

  Excellent.

  It boggled Tyler’s mind that Marcus hadn’t tried to publish his fiction, although most of what Tyler had read was unfinished. Some of it barely started.

  In his sleep, Tommy had rolled over and draped his arm around Tyler’s waist, a comforting feeling even if his man was asleep.

  Tyler knew he was far from the first writer to experience self-doubt over their scribblings, but reading Marcus’ work had thrown him headlong into a deep morass of despondency over his own talent.

  Was he as good a writer as he thought he was?

  Why did he leave me all his writing with permission to use them as my own?

  Had it been a genuine gesture, or a mind fuck? One final sadistic tweak from beyond the grave?

  But that felt…wrong, somehow. Of course he wasn’t an expert on Marcus and his moods, but it genuinely felt like Marcus had been trying to atone.

  Worse, there was a small and growing part of him who wanted to use some of it, could see where he could seamlessly tack some of it in place within his own works in progress.

  I need sleep, is what I need.

  He felt exhausted, drained, not just physically but mentally and emotionally.

  He also felt exceedingly guilty that he wasn’t home with his family, and that they were taking second place to all of…this.

  Closing his eyes, he laid his hand over Tom’s and laced fingers with him, taking comfort from the warmth of his body and hoping his presence would lull him to sleep.

  * * * *

  Tom had awakened when he felt Ty come to bed not too long ago. He’d lived this drill before, although for so many wonderful years they’d had Nevvie in their lives and in their bed that he hadn’t had to be “alone” when Ty was working odd hours that took his complete focus.

  He’d forgotten the pang of loneliness that always accompanied one of Ty’s all-nighters.

  Except he couldn’t and wouldn’t complain. It was work. Just because Ty’s working hours were irregular didn’t make them any less valid. He’d spent years respecting Ty’s work time, because he earned damned good money at it. And it was an essential part of Ty’s personality, being a writer. It wasn’t just what he did—it was who he was as a person.

  Still, he got the feeling something felt…different now.

  Maybe it’s just this place has me jumpy.

  The whole situation sucked. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so bad had Marcus rid the apartment of his personal belongings, other than furniture and kitchen items, before biting the big one. Why would he leave…everything?

  Now that he was awake and his brain was spinning, his leg was starting to sound off, too. Not so bad he’d have to resort to a prescription pill, but enough that if he didn’t get some ibuprofen into him fairly soon, it would tune up in a loud way he wouldn’t be able to ignore.

  That would mean getting out of bed and possibly awakening Ty.

  Decisions, decisions…

  It was Sunday morning. Normally, that was designated family day. The three of them usually slept in, then once everyone was awake, they did something together. Or tried to, at least. Even if it was nothing more than scooping up Andrew and Chloe and going out for pizza or ice cream or something. Even Tyler would take the day off and spend it with them.

  Right now, Nevvie would still be sound asleep, so he couldn’t even text with her. Not without waking her up.

  Which was not only a dangerous thing to do before she’d had coffee, it wasn’t fair to her.

  Sigh.

  Tom waited as long as he could before slowly starting the process of extricating himself from Tyler and the bed without waking Ty. It took him several minutes, but he finally made it. Closing himself in the bathroom, he used it then took three ibuprofen and stared at himself in the mirror.

  Not exactly where he expected to be in his life at this age. In many ways it was far better, and that outweighed the few melancholy thoughts that sometimes tried to swamp him.

  Like how he wished his dad was alive to see their four kids. To meet Ty. Nevvie.

  Then again, Andrew might still have been alone for all those years, instead of the happy ones spent married to Tom’s mother.

  He never imagined himself burying one of his sisters, much less that she’d have turned on him like she did.

  Tom grabbed his cane and clothes and slowly hobbled out of the bedroom, quietly closing the door behind him. In the living room, he adjusted the thermostat up and pulled on his clothes.

  At home, he’d be running around in shorts and still sweating his balls off.

  With the coffee going, he stared out the kitchen’s small window at the nearby park. Even with the grey, drizzly morning there were people out walking their dogs or jogging or biking. On the face of it, it could be any American city. He wondered if Jean-Claude had stared out this same window every morning and resented Tyler for his short tryst with Marcus.

  Marcus, if you really cared so much about Tyler, why didn’t you treat him better when you were alive?

  He wasn’t sure he bought the “young and stupid” cop-out the guy gave. Especially when paired with the extortion in Seattle, the threat to send Tom to jail for decking Marcus if Tyler didn’t go to Marcus’ room with him—alone—to talk. Especially after bidding on the auction with the express purpose of wanting to talk to Tyler despite knowing Tyler was poly and had children.

  In his own mind, Tom had supposed Marcus treated Tyler more like a sexual trophy than a partner. A well-known author, even back then, younger, and a total noob to sex with guys? Sure, that’d be an ego boost for someone like Marcus.

  Anyone with half a functional conscience would have put the brakes on things when they found out they were leaving the US and heading home.

  Yet…Marcus had left a considerable estate to Tyler—and him.

  That contradicted the view Tom had held of the man for all those years.

  The two factions warred within his brain.

  Then again, the guy’s dead. Does it really matter now?

  Except he knew it all mattered to Ty.

  Once he had enough coffee brewed to pour himself a mug, he did, and limped over to the couch to find a morning news broadcast on TV that would help take his mind off their current situation. Tyler would likely sleep until noon, if his past behavior was any indication of now.

  * * * *

  This.

  Fucking.

  Sucks.

  Nevvie clutched a pillow to her in the middle of their too-large bed, a bed that felt way too empty without either of her men to share it with her.

  She grabbed her phone from the bedside table. Not quite seven, and no texts from Tommy or Ty.

  She opted to send one to Tommy, hoping that Tyler was hard at work on his edits and not wanting to disturb him.

  Or delay him finishing them to get him home sooner.

  I
guess it’s too late for me to call backsies and order you two home huh?

  It surprised her when her phone rang seconds later.

  Tommy. She was missing them too bad to even give him any snark when she answered. “I miss you.”

  “Miss you, too, sugar. Are the kids that bad?”

  “No.” She pulled the pillow—Tommy’s pillow—tight against her. “I miss you both.”

  “We miss you, too.”

  “How’s he doing?”

  “Asleep right now. He was up working until daybreak.”

  “Oh.” Hope filled her. “That’s good, right? He’ll finish his edits sooner?”

  “I hope so, but I won’t rush him. You know how he gets.”

  “I know.” She sighed. “It still sucks.”

  “Not any less sucky on this end, baby girl. Oh, hell.”

  “What?”

  “Are you watching the news?”

  “No. I haven’t even had coffee yet. I’m still in bed. What?”

  “Turn on The Weather Channel.”

  Nevvie rolled the other direction and grabbed the remote for the bedroom TV. “What am I looking at—oh, shit.”

  Jim Cantore was excitedly discussing a train of tropical waves chugging westward across the Atlantic Ocean.

  Two of which were predicted to become hurricanes.

  “…and the entire eastern coast, from the Florida Keys to Maine, needs to keep an eye on these systems. There is an upper level system in the Midwest that will potentially help draw these systems in toward land. The problem is, it’s too soon to tell exactly where—”

  She hit the mute button, feeling a little sick to her stomach. “Boy, am I glad I insisted on roll-down shutters for this house.” They weren’t in a flood or tidal surge zone, so that wasn’t a worry.

  But wind could be an issue no matter how strong the houses were engineered.

  “Me, too, baby girl. Hopefully we’re concerned over nothing. Most of these storms don’t give us anything but a little rain and some breezy weather. But just in case, ask Adam to test start our whole-house genny, and Dad’s, before he heads back to school tonight. He knows how to do it. And have the boys shuffle the cars around in the garage so you can fit all the vehicles in.”

 

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