Fucking genius, my kid.
The following Tuesday morning, my mother called to tell me she was coming down and wanted to see Scotty, if he was free after school. I told her she could take him to play therapy and get his dinner if she’d like, and she jumped at the chance.
“Thanks,” I said. “That will give me some time to go to the gym and maybe catch up with a friend.” I was getting much better about letting her help out and not feeling it was an indictment on my parenting.
“How nice. Jillian?” she asked nosily.
“No. A guy friend.”
She said nothing for a moment.
“Just a friend, Mom. I’m not gay.”
“OK, OK,” she said briskly. “You know I don’t care either way, I’m only interested in your life. I want you to be happy.”
I closed my eyes. “Yes, Mom. I know.”
When we hung up, I texted Sebastian. Can you grab a beer after work?
Sure. Time and place?
Jolly Pumpkin at 7 work for you?
See you there.
I’d asked Sebastian to meet me because I needed advice, and he was the closest guy friend I had these days. Plus he was married to Jillian’s sister and might have some insight as to what I could do to make things right.
He was there when I arrived, sitting with Natalie Nixon’s fiancé Miles at the bar, and I shook both their hands before sitting next to Sebastian.
“Hope you don’t mind my joining you,” Miles said. “I had to get out of the house. Working from home can be a little stifling.”
“I hear you. I did it for a while too.” I ordered a beer and took off my coat.
“So what’s new?” I asked Sebastian. “I haven’t talked to you for a couple weeks. Thanks again for putting me in touch with Skylar about the photo. It was perfect.”
“You’re welcome. I heard she loved it.”
“She did.”
“I’m glad. Jillian is a great girl.”
“She is, but I…” I sighed, running a hand over my beard. “I fucked up.”
Neither of them said anything while our beers were set in front of us. Once the bartender was gone, Sebastian asked, “How so?”
I gave them the bare bones of what happened, and it was amazing to me how much clarity came from telling someone else the story. As the words poured out, it was almost like being able to take a step back, see things from her point of view, or even an outsider’s, understand my fear and defensiveness better, and put them in perspective.
“Wow,” Sebastian said, taking a drink of beer. “So she said no to giving you more time? That doesn’t sound like her.”
“I think it was the way I asked. She wasn’t convinced I would use the time to work through anything. But I have—I just don’t know what to do now.” I closed my eyes and exhaled. “I need advice.”
Sebastian recoiled. “Oh Jesus. I’m the last person who should give relationship advice.”
“Why not? You and Skylar have a great relationship.”
“Yeah, but that’s because of her. I tried to sabotage it a thousand times before I realized how lucky I was that she understood me and accepted me, and that I had to stop trying to drive her away.”
“Why did you try to drive her away?” I asked.
“Fear. Plain and simple.”
“I did the same,” put in Miles. “I was such a dick to Natalie after I realized I had feelings for her. Just because that was easier than facing them and upending my life.”
I nodded, understanding. “That’s it exactly. And I’m so fucking tired of being afraid. I love her. I want her in my life. In Scotty’s life.”
“Then go get her,” said Sebastian.
“I don’t even know if she’ll have me. I might have missed my chance. She said she was done waiting.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, Skylar says that shit to me to sometimes too. It’s because they know we need to hear it in order to quit fucking around and get our shit together.”
“Agreed,” said Miles. “I actually know for a fact that Jillian’s fucking crazy about you. I shouldn’t say this, but she came over to the house last Saturday night and she was a mess.”
“Fuck.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “That’s the day we fought. She called me out on my bullshit and I was a stubborn asshole.”
“Yeah, she admitted she was harsh. She was all kinds of fucked up about it. But she loves you. And she wants you, trust me. Not on any terms though—she was clear about that. She wants the real thing.”
“She deserves it.” I grimaced. “So what do I do now?”
“Something that will show her you know you were wrong, you’re ready to give her what she wants, and you understand what’s important to her,” said Miles. “Then you have to figure out a fucking amazing way to do it. Impress her.”
“How do you know all this?” I shook my head. “You’re like an expert.”
He grinned and tipped back his glass again. “‘Cause I had to do it too.”
I thought about it for a minute as I took a few sips of my beer. “Her job is important to her, but I think family is the closest thing to her heart.”
“I think you’re right,” said Sebastian. “The Nixons are a tight bunch. But they’re great, too. You’ll love them.”
My insides warmed as I thought about the Nixons letting me and Scotty into their clan. It would be good for both of us. Suddenly it made even more sense, her feelings about being on the inside of my life. When you come from a close family like hers, you want that for yourself. “Any ideas for a fucking amazing way to impress her?”
Sebastian went silent.
“Actually,” Miles said, his eyes lighting up, “I do have an idea. I happen to know that the entire Nixon family will be at a party at Abelard Vineyards on Christmas Eve. And no one knows this, but something pretty fucking cool is going to take place. I think it would mean a lot to her that you were there that night.”
“Really?” Sebastian looked at Miles.
“Really.” Miles gave him a warning look. “But you can’t say a word. Natalie would fucking kill me.”
“I won’t.”
“Christmas Eve, huh?” An idea was taking shape in my brain. “I think I could be there.”
“Good.” Miles raised his beer. “Cheers, brothers.”
Twenty-Eight
Levi
Christmas Eve was five days away, but there was no way I could wait that long before contacting Jillian. One, I missed her too fucking much, and patience where she’s concerned had never been a virtue of mine; and two, I didn’t want her to suffer anymore. If she was half as miserable as I was, she was barely getting through a day.
I called her the day after I met Sebastian and Miles at the bar. It went to voicemail.
“Hey, beautiful. I miss you so much, and I hope you’re doing OK. I know I have not behaved well and don’t deserve another chance, but if you can meet me this week for coffee or a drink or dinner—anything—I’d love to see you. Let me know.”
I pressed end, feeling like I hadn’t said the right things to convince her, but what could I do? I wasn’t a poet, I had no singing voice, no magic words—I was just an imperfect guy hoping the perfect girl would love him.
She called me back after work that night.
“Hi,” she said when I answered. “I got your message.”
“Hey.” The sound of her voice made my heart beat faster. “I’m so glad you called.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“I wouldn’t have blamed you.” I set a plate of (cold) chicken, frozen peas, a warm—not hot—dinner roll, and a slice of cantaloupe on the island for Scotty. “Come and eat,” I called to him where he was playing on the family room rug.
“Oh, are you having dinner?” she said. “Just call me later.”
“No! I mean, yes, of course I will, if you want, but have you thought about my invitation?”
“I’m…still thinking.”
My spirits flagged
a little. “I understand. Anything I can say to persuade you to say yes? I’ll say it.”
“I don’t know. I miss you, and I want to see you, but…what’s different this time, Levi?”
“Everything,” I promised. It suddenly occurred to me that my invitation on her voicemail hadn’t made that clear. I’d just invited her out like I used to. “In fact, I want to amend my earlier offer. Instead of coffee or a drink, why don’t you come over for dinner Friday night?”
“To your house?”
“Yes. I want to introduce you to Scotty.”
She sighed. “Levi, you know I’d love that, but I’m not doing it if this is just what you think I want to hear.”
“It’s not,” I said. “In fact, it’s not for you at all, it’s for me. You know how selfish I am.” I heard her laugh, and it made me smile.
“OK, then…OK. I’ll come over Friday.”
“Great. I’ve been talking about you a little.”
“You have?”
I smiled even bigger at the shock in her voice. “Yeah. He looked a little worried when I said you were a doctor—he doesn’t love checkups—so don’t wear the white coat.”
She laughed. “I’ll be sure to leave that behind. Can I bring anything?”
“Nope. Just your company.”
“What time?”
“Is six OK?”
“Yes, I’ll come right from work.”
“Perfect. Can’t wait to see you.”
“Same. I miss you. And I can’t wait to meet Scotty.”
We hung up, and I felt better than I had in a month. I could do this. I looked over at Scotty, who was carefully scooping his frozen peas onto his yellow spoon, a few spilling off the plate, and felt a rush of love for him, too. Neither of us were perfect, but we tried.
Sometimes that’s all you can do.
I called my mother that night too. As I’d suspected, it didn’t go over well that I wouldn’t be at their house on Christmas Eve until I hinted at something bigger than just the holiday.
“I understand that you have to make things up to her, but why does it have to be on Christmas Eve? That’s for family.”
“That’s the point, Mom.”
“But those people aren’t your family.”
“But I’m hoping they will be.”
She gasped. “What? What does that mean?”
“It means that I’m serious about her, and I have to show her that I want her to be in my life, and I want to be in hers.”
“Well, what about Scotty? Why don’t you bring him here to spend the night with us while you go to her party, and then you can come up here afterward to sleep and you both wake up here on Christmas morning. Just like it used to be!” she said brightly, as if she’d found the perfect solution.
“No, Mom. I don’t want what used to be. I want to make new traditions. I want to be with Scotty and Jillian on Christmas Eve, and wake up with Scotty in our house.”
She sighed, a big, dramatic Mom Sigh. “Fine,” she said. “I understand. You’ll still come for brunch Christmas Day though, right?”
“We’ll be there. Would it be OK to bring Jillian?”
“Of course!” She perked right up. “We’d love to have her!”
“Good. We’ll see you then.”
In the days leading up to Friday, I spoke about Jillian to Scotty. He listened, I think, but whenever he’d ask about her, he’d refer to her as Ellie, no matter how many times I reminded him her name was Jillian. It was sort of sweet, and very Scotty, so after a while I gave up correcting him and figured it would work itself out on its own—or maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe he’d call her Ellie for the rest of her life. Somehow, I knew she’d be OK with that, because it meant Scotty recognized that we loved each other.
As long as he didn’t start calling me Carl.
Twenty-Nine
Jillian
I hadn’t been this nervous since my board exams. Walking up the front steps of Levi’s house, my knees knocked, my hands shook, and my stomach flip-flopped like a fish out of water. At the front door, I took a second to stand still, breathing slowly and deeply. On the count of three, I knocked.
Levi pulled the door open, and I barely had a chance to look at him before he grabbed me and pulled me to his chest, hugging me so tight I could hardly breathe.
“It’s so good to see you,” he said in my ear. “I missed you so much.”
“I missed you too.” I wrapped my arms around his waist and breathed him in. This felt so good. Was he really ready to move forward, get past his fears? God, I hoped so. I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but all I needed to hear was that he was willing to try.
“You’re freezing,” he said, rubbing his hands up and down my back.
“It is pretty cold. I think we’re going to get some snow too. But I’m fine.”
He released me, kissing me hard on the lips before taking my hand. “Come on in. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
My heart hammered in my chest as he walked me from the front entrance through a small formal dining room into a family room that was open to the kitchen. For a guy’s house, it was decorated nicely—art on the walls, beautiful finishes like granite counters and polished wood floors, fabrics and paint colors that complemented each other in warm neutrals. I don’t know why it surprised me, since he was an architect and had an eye for design, but he was always referring to himself as such a caveman. What kind of caveman has throw pillows on the couch and candles on the dining room table?
“Hey, Scotty. Come here.” Levi held on to my hand as Scotty got off the floor where he’d been playing and came over to us.
My heart ached, and I squeezed Levi’s hand. He was so sweet. Huge, dark eyes like his dad’s, the same thick, tousled brown hair, those adorable ears that stuck out a little. He didn’t quite meet my eyes, but that was OK.
“Hello,” he said, holding out his hand.
“Hello.” I dropped Levi’s hand and took his son’s, leaning down. “I’m Jillian. Nice to meet you, Scotty.”
“Nice to meet you, Scotty,” he repeated.
Levi and I exchanged a smile. “I hear you like baseball. I do too.”
“Babe Ruth hit sixty home runs in 1927,” he told me, twirling his hand in his hair.
“Wow,” I said. “That’s impressive. Is he your favorite player?”
“Who do you like on the Tigers, Scotty?” Levi prompted. “Who do we want to go see hit a home run at Comerica Park?”
“Miguel Cabrera has 408 career home runs,” Scotty said.
“I like Martinez,” I told him.
“J.D. Martinez. Eighty-five career home runs, thirty-eight last season.”
“You know your stuff.” I smiled at him. “Very impressive.”
“What do you say, Scotty?” Levi asked.
“What do you say, Scotty?” he repeated.
“You say thank you.” Levi’s voice was firm but kind.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I met Levi’s eyes and saw they were shining.
“Can I get you something to drink, Jillian?”
“Whatever you’re having.”
“Can I have my iPad?” Scotty asked hopefully.
“Sure, buddy.” Levi ruffled his hair. “Go check off swim therapy on your chart and then grab it.”
Levi poured some wine for us, and I sat at the island while he prepared dinner. Watching him move easily in his kitchen, managing several tasks at once, turned me on so much I had to cross my legs. Put those thoughts away, I told myself. That is not why you’re here, and it’s not happening tonight. But part of me understood why Levi always wanted to meet out or at my house—when we only got to see each other once a week, we wanted to do more than look.
But this was a different kind of night.
It was the kind of night that made me feel good in other ways—I felt a part of something. I felt the love between Levi and his son. I felt the effort Levi was making to show me there was a place for me in his
life, a place for the love we shared. And I felt even more respect and admiration for him as a father, understood better the weight that being Scotty’s only parent placed on him, as well as the joy it brought him.
When dinner was over, I insisted on helping with the dishes, and when they were loaded and the food put away, Levi told Scotty he could have some extra playtime while he showed me the house.
My heart beat faster at the thought of being alone with him, even though I knew we couldn’t have sex.
Which was why I got the wind knocked out of me when Levi shut his bedroom door behind us and caged me against it, crushing his lips to mine.
I gave up on breathing and kissed him back, my body straining against his.
“I fucking want you so badly right now,” he whispered. “You have no idea.”
“Uh, yes I do,” I said as he wedged one thigh between my legs. “Believe me.”
“I’m sorry we have to wait.”
“It’s OK, really.”
“God, Jillian.” He shook his head, his eyes serious. “Tell me we’re OK. Tell me I didn’t fuck this up. I’m so sorry.”
“We’re OK,” I said. “This is what I wanted. To know what it was like to be here with you.”
He let my arms drop and gathered me against him. “I love you here with me. With us. I thought being a good father meant I had to deny this part of myself, but it wasn’t true. I had to accept it, without fear or reservation. I want Scotty to see what love looks like, all kinds of love.”
I locked my hands behind his back. “Scotty is so sweet.”
“He is. He’s also having a very good day. A good week, actually. It does get harder than this.”
I slapped him lightly on the butt. “Such a pessimist.”
“I’m serious. You need to know that.”
“I know. I’m teasing you. And it’s OK—we all have good days and bad. Nothing and no one is perfect.”
Happy Crazy Love Boxed Set Page 67