Both kids were dragging their feet by the time they got to the car, and it didn’t surprise Rowan to see them both slumped over and sleeping before they reached the highway.
He couldn’t blame them. They weren’t the only tired ones. Rowan slumped in his seat and let the ride pass in silence except for the low hum of Jordy’s music.
When Jordy pulled up to his building, Rowan took his cue.
“Thanks for today,” he said, feeling suddenly like he was following a first-date script.
Jordy hummed. “Thanks for indulging my kid and giving me adult conversation.” Well, maybe not quite a date stereotype.
“My pleasure.” Rowan tipped his safari hat. “See you Sunday at the library.”
Jordy nodded and waved goodbye as Rowan got out of the car. He didn’t let himself feel warm and fuzzy when he noticed that Jordy didn’t drive away until after Rowan got inside.
Sighing, Rowan closed the door and leaned against it. For a brief moment, he allowed himself the fantasy of the day finishing in a different way. Of following Jordy home and getting to know him better. Then he shook himself and stepped away from the door. It was a pointless fantasy, not least because Rowan was taking a break from men and romance.
It was time for food. He scrounged up leftovers and put them in the microwave, and as he stood waiting, he spotted the letter, still unopened, on the kitchen table.
Curiosity got the better of him, and he opened it. When the microwave beeped a minute later, he didn’t hear.
… the final date of your contract has been confirmed….
Rowan chewed his thumb and stared at the date stamped on the page. August 27.
Bollocks. He’d been hoping for better news—an update on his application for a more permanent position. He’d been lucky Pamela’s maternity leave had started within weeks of Cindy’s ending, so he’d gone from one mat leave to another. But he didn’t think his luck could hold out for a third, which was why he’d been sending applications for more permanent contracts.
The microwave beeped aggressively, reminding him of his dinner. He tossed the letter onto the table and turned back to his food. As he ate his curry, he contemplated what to do next. The longer it took him to find something stable, the longer he had to stay in this flat. He knew Gem would rescue him if he asked, but that wasn’t what he wanted. What he needed. Rowan didn’t just need the stability of something long-term, a home to call his own. He also needed to prove to himself that he could do it without relying on others. He wanted to be independent of the bullshit of his parents’ lives, and he couldn’t do that if he let Gem—or anyone—take their place, financially speaking.
Plate empty, Rowan opened the dishwasher to unload the morning’s clean dishes—
And cursed when water gushed out over the floor.
“Fuck!” What in the world? The bottom of the dishwasher held standing water three inches deep. Well, less now that some had flowed out. Rowan groaned. He’d called the landlord weeks ago about how slowly it seemed to drain. The slumlord said he’d take care of it.
Rowan had put that out of his mind, but apparently he should have harped. What a mess. It wasn’t only clean water either; there were bits of food in it. Disgusting.
He didn’t have the wherewithal to deal with this tonight. It required the services of a professional, and he could take thecost of the repair out of next month’s rent. He snapped a bunch of pictures and texted them to his landlord, then whipped out Google to find a plumber.
IT HAPPENEDevery year, and yet every year it took Jordy by surprise when July gave way to August and he realized his days at home with Kaira were coming to a close.
It had been a good summer. They’d had two weeks in Minnesota right after school let out, another week on a beach in Aruba, and still plenty of time for library group and the zoo with Clem… and now Jordy needed to start training in earnest, because in a few weeks, camp would start, and then the preseason. And Kaira would start first grade.
God, that made him feel old. Old and—something. Wistful? Before he knew it, Kaira would be all grown up, leaving the house to go to college or travel the world with her friends or both. Jordy wanted that for her.
Hedidn’twant to think about where that’d leave him in twelve years—in a big house with no Kaira to fill it.
“You’ve got a frowny face this morning,” Janice commented when she popped her head into the kitchen. “Coffee?”
“Time machine?” Jordy countered.
Janice chuckled and slid him a mug. “Bit outside my area of expertise, I’m afraid.”
“Doesn’t hurt to ask.”
She put her hand over his on the counter. “It happens. Kids grow. Believe me, I know.” She gently plucked the fridge magnet he’d been staring at out of his fingers. The photograph showed him and Kaira two years ago, on her fourth birthday. She was laughing hysterically, her baby-fat cheeks smeared with chocolate ice cream, as Jordy attempted to put her hair into a ponytail to keep it out of the mess.
He took a sip of coffee. It helped a bit. Janice refused to use a conventional coffee maker or even a French press; she had a little pour-over kit. Jordy was ruined forever.
“So. Speaking of the flow of time.”
