“Whywould I pay for porn when I can just get it for free?”
Theyouth of today really have no idea how good they have it. When I was his age, Iwas stealing my sisters’ Cosmo magazines.
“That’smy boy,” I clapped him on the shoulder, and headed toward the door. “I’mfucking tired and don’t wanna cook, so I’ll just order a pizza tonight, okay?You can get unpacked and whatever.”
Henodded. “Yeah, pizza’s good.”
“Damnright, it is. And it’s way better than that upstate pizza you’ve been sufferingwith,” I bobbed my head. “Oh, and by the way, I didn’t bring your drums downhere ‘cause I’d have to soundproof the room. If you really want to practice inhere, that’s fine, we can do that, but—”
Greysonshrugged. “Nah, it’s okay.”
“You’resure?” I tipped my chin to my chest, watching his reactions. “I don’t wanna—”
“No,”he shook his head, “I wanna be able to play with you.”
Theadmission was a Cupid’s arrow to my chest, and I fought my smile, not wantingto put him on the spot or make the moment awkward. It was a struggle, but Inodded and kept my lips from grinning.
“Okay,cool,” and I left to order the pizza and revel in being wanted. By my kid.
25
sebastian
“How have youboys been this week?” Momasked, bustling into the house with a tray of my dad’s famous barbeque ribs.“Things going well? Is he pissing you off yet, Greyson?”
Greysonshrugged. “It’s okay.”
Itwas Thursday. Tomorrow, we would be heading back to spend the night with Tabbybefore meeting with my sisters at Hershey Park on Saturday morning.
“Good,”she replied, pressing her hand to his back. “Are you hungry? You can grab someribs—”
“I’mgonna go playStreet Fighter,” he cut her off, and headed straight tothe basement.
Momlooked to me, both of us wincing when the door shut behind him. “So, I take itthings aren’t going so great?”
Ifolded my forearms against the counter and pursed my lips with consideration.How could I adequately describe the week we’d had in a way that she’dunderstand, without having witnessed it herself?
Thereseemed to be a pattern in this new life of mine. Greyson and I would spend timetogether, playing drums or video games, or watching movies. We’d laugh, have agreat time, and then there’d be a lull. A moment between movies, a quiet minutein the grocery store, a few fuzzy seconds while we waited for the next song to play,and his mood would dim. Instantly, he’d shut down, shut me out, and walk away. Ioften wouldn’t see him again until the next day.
“Thingsare fine until they’re not,” I mumbled, shrugging and tapping my fingertipsagainst the counter, before adding, “They’re more fine than not though.”
“Well,that’s good,” she encouraged, standing across from me. “Hon, you can’t expectfor things to be perfect in just a few weeks. Nothing ever is.”
“Iknow that.” I sucked in a frustrated gust of air, holding it before exhaling mydiscouragement. “I just wanted to have a better report for Tabby, I guess. Ididn’t want her to worry about him over here.”
“Haveyou been talking to her?”
Inodded, tracing the speckles in the stone. It’d been nearly two weeks since I’dseen her, and I hated how badly I missed her. How badly I felt dependent onher. “Yeah, we text all the time.”
“ThenI’m sure she already knows how he’s doing,” she assured me, and she was right.I gave Tabby updates on the regular. She knew about his flip-flopping, and she hadeven expected it. Still, it didn’t make me feel like any less of a failure atthis whole single parent thing, and I wondered if maybe I wasn’t cut out for itafter all.
“Ibet you’re excited to see her again, huh,” Mom teased, nudging her hand againstmine and grabbing my attention.
“Sure,”I shrugged, overselling my nonchalance. “It’ll be nice.”
“Nice,”she mocked with a tip of her head. “Can I remind you that I carried you in mybelly for forty-one weeks?”
“God,I don’t envy you,” I mumbled, shaking my head with a chuckle.
