Kid, we literally just stopped crying.“A little bit, sometimes. But mostly it makes me really happy, because you deserve a dad who pays you lots of attention and spends time with you. Every kid should have people who love them like that, Theo. And it’s good for me to see that and to remember I should’ve had that too and it’s not my fault that I didn’t.”
After a moment of contemplation, Theo nodded. Then he said, with the kind of gravitas only an eight-year-old could manage, “Feelings are hard.”
Ty startled into a laugh. “You said it, kid.” He plopped the egg carton on the counter next to the stand mixer. “Now, pass the sugar.”
Chapter 11
OLLIE ENDEDhis shift on edge after Ty’s message about Mrs. Sanford, so he was primed for panic when he closed his locker and saw a new notification on his phone.
But this time Ty hadn’t just sent a text, he’d sent a picture: Theo passed out on the couch, head pillowed awkwardly on Ty’s knee. In the background, the TV showed a still fromMoneyball.
So just a heads-up but I don’t think we’re getting our homework done tonight.
Without thinking, Ollie touched the phone screen, as if he could move through it into Ty’s weird old-man living room and squeeze in at the other end of the couch with Theo’s feet in his lap.
God. He should be there. Someone had died, and his kid had almost seen it because Ollie had to work. And now it was—fuck, it was almost six. So much for a family-friendly company. Ollie’s ass, legs, and shoulders ached from too many hours in the driver’s seat of an armored truck. His heart ached for his kid. Obviously something had hit home for him today.
And that didn’t even touch the complicated tangle of things he felt that someone else was there making sure Theo got what he needed. Gratitude, yes. Envy, certainly. Guilt. Pride, a little, because Ollie had navigated that all by himself, making friends with someone with such a generous heart, someone Theo obviously loved and trusted already.
None of those explained the peculiar tug in his chest, the sensation almost like barbed wire wrapped around his heart. Ollie rubbed his sternum distractedly and put his phone away. He wasn’t going to ask Ty to explain whatever happened by text, and a phone call might wake Theo. They could figure things out in person.
When he got home, the television volume was on low and the smell of baked-from-frozen pizza filled the front room. Ollie left his boots by the door and his keys and wallet in the second bowl on the consoletable. Then he poked his head around the side of the couch. Theo was stretched out fully now, covered by the throw blanket from the games room.Moneyballwas still playing on low volume; Ty must’ve set it to play on repeat or something.
Ollie wandered into the kitchen, where Ty sat at the island, half hidden behind an enormous plate of chocolate chip cookies. A mug of hot chocolate steamed in front of him.
Ollie cleared his throat as he sat across from Ty. “So the pizza I smell, that’s dessert?”
Ty gave him an anemic smile and nudged the plate over a few inches. “Been that kinda day, I guess.”
Off a long exhale, Ollie said, “Yeah.” He paused. Picked up a cookie. Then, “I really hate my job.”
He punctuated the statement by biting down. The chocolate chips were still molten, and the chewy, buttery crumb soothed something deep inside him.
“Honestly?” Ty sipped his hot chocolate. “Same.”
Frowning, Ollie shoved the rest of the cookie into his mouth. After he swallowed, he said, “I thought you liked the kids.”
“I love the kids,” Ty clarified. “I’m just not built for sitting still, or grading things, or wrangling twenty-five eight-year-olds at a time. And I don’t want to be out of my real job for so long that I get rusty.”
Ollie glanced at the timer on the stove—still another three minutes on the pizza—and took another cookie. “Is that what happened today?”
Ty huffed and spun his now empty mug on the counter. “No. I think—there wasn’t anything anyone could’ve done for her, short of installing a pacemaker or putting her on blood thinners long before this. But I….”
Ollie waited him out.
A gusty exhale. “I caught myself wondering after if I’d done everything I could. I know—IknowI did. I only really wondered because Mrs. Sanford was such a…. She was not nice to me. And I resented that. But I still tried my best to save her.” He lifted one large shoulder in a halfhearted shrug. “It’s easier to deal with when you’re wearing a uniform.”
“I know somethingabout that.”
They exchanged meaningful glances and then, by unspoken agreement, dropped the subject when the timer dinged. Ty pulled out the pizzas and set them on the stovetop to cool.
“You never get deep dish,” Ollie commented. “I would’ve thought living in Chicago….”
Ty tossed an oven mitt at his head. “If you need a spoon to eat it, it’s not pizza.”
“True.” Ollie glanced at the kitchen door, which he’d propped open with the heavy pink rock salt slab Ty said was for cooking meat on. No movement from the living room. He sighed and opened the drawer for the pizza cutter. “So, not to jump from one difficult subject to another, but uh….”
“What happened with Theo this afternoon?” Ty finished as Ollie sliced the pizza.
