TUESDAY THEteam had an away game. Ty couldn’t decide what was worse, the 13–2 loss, or the fact that he had to get on the bus with the kids afterward and go all the way back to the school instead of just getting in his truck to go home.
To make matters worse, there was nothing else to do in a small town on a Tuesday night, so the visitors’ section was decently full anyway. Ty couldn’t tell if he felt persecuted because he couldn’t save the team from themselves or because he couldn’t save Mrs. Sanford. Either way, his skin itched throughout the game. He couldn’t help but feel like everyone was looking at him.
On top of that, there was some kind of teenage soap opera happening in the infield. Pete and Paolo, the catcher, were okay; Paolo and Danny, the first baseman, were fine. Pete and Danny seemed to be giving each other the cold shoulder.
As the team traipsed back into the dugout after a brutal five-run infield, Ty muttered to Henry, “Do we ask them about it?”
Henry’s expression read Cynical Old Man. “Absolutely not. If we ask and they tell us, we might be obligated to mediate.”
Okay, well, Henry probably needed his pension, sohe’dhave to mediate, but Ty? “Icould ask,” he pointed out. “What’re they gonna do, fire me? This job doesn’t even pay for groceries.”
“But then you’ll know and have to keep it to yourself,” Henry pointed out, and that sounded awful, so Ty didn’t ask.
In the bus on the way home, he had Theo next to him, trying to do his math homework while half falling asleep against Ty’s shoulder. Ty was glad he was doing it now, because his nose told him Theo needed a bath tonight.
He shot Ollie a quick text when they got back to the school.On our way. Did you get dinner by any chance?
He got back a picture of an enormous pot of spaghetti.It’s not fancy but you won’t starve.
You’re my favorite, Ty sent back, and his stomach growled all the way home.
Ollie sent Theo off to shower as soon as he cleaned his plate. Then he puttered around the kitchen with Ty doing dishes, even though he’d cooked so it was definitely Ty’s turn.
“I can handle this,” Ty promised through a yawn.
“Uh-huh,” Ollie said good-naturedly. He elbowed Ty in the ribs. The hug on Monday must have broken the physical-touch dam, because the boundaries of personal space had been redrawn in the past few days. Ty wasn’t complaining. Human contact was important for mental and emotional health, and God knew he and Ollie could use all the serotonin supplements they could get. “Go sit down on the couch. You’re missing the Cubs game.”
OLLIE HADthought his parents would cave in a day or two. He knew how much they wanted to build a relationship with Theo, and he wanted that for them too, but not at the expense of Ollie being second-guessed over every decision he made about Theo’s well-being.
But by Thursday, he still didn’t have an apology, and he was starting to wonder if he’d lost objectivity.
Am I making too big a deal of this?he texted Cass on his lunch break.Be honest.
He didn’t get a reply until two hours later.Hell no. Stick to your guns. Do you know how many arguments we had about Mel being baptized?
Cass’s husband was Jewish. They’d agreed Mel could make her own decisions about religion when she was old enough. Ollie could imagine how that had gone over with their parents.And you still speak to them?
They get three strikes a year and if they use them all we don’t come for Christmas.
He whistled under his breath.I might have to try that one.
Good luck!
Ollie was going to need it—both with his parents and with the commute home, because construction season was upon them. At the rate they were going today, he’d barely make it home in time for Theo’s bedtime. To make matters worse, their usual truck was being serviced, and the seat in this one had spent its previous life as a medieval torture device. He already knew he’d have to take muscle relaxants to sleep tonight, which meant he could expect the nightmares to make an appearance. One day he hoped to be able to once again rest his mind and his body simultaneously.
But when he eventually did make it home, the scent in the kitchen almost made him forget how cranky he was.
He stopped in the living room, where Theo was curled up on the couch with his nose three inches from his book. Ollie kissed the top of his head and accepted a distracted reverse half hug in return, then carefully pulled the book farther away from Theo’s face so he didn’t end up with a headache.
Urged on by his stomach, he continued to the kitchen. “Okay, two questions: What are you making and when can I eat it?”
Ty scraped something warm and garlicky from the wok onto a serving dish. “Bulgogi beef, and it’s ready now.”
Ollie might cry. “Seriously?”
He smiled. “A little bird told me it was your favorite. Well, he actually said ‘buggy beef,’ but we got some context and sorted it out. I was going to make it Monday, only Monday ended up being a word I can’t say unless I want to contribute to Theo’s college fund.”
Ollie got down a trio of pasta bowls and opened the rice cooker. “At least cursing is more fun than selling a kidney.”
