Page 42 of The Outline


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“You want to know something, though?” Gage whispered conspiratorially.

“Of course.”

He bent in close to my face and spoke in a hushed voice. “Robbie said that Renn was…it was a bad word.” He tilted back to look at me, and I could only hope I was making the right decision when I nodded at him encouragingly to continue. “Robbie said…he said that Renn was full of shit…that the tooth fairy isn’t real.”

“He said that?”

“He likes to say bad words now. Since he started middle school. Renn took away his iPad for a week because he said the F-word three times when he was playing a video game.”

“Well, I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Middle school sometimes makes you want to try out using bad words. Sounds like Renn is handling Robbie.”

“Yeah.” He shuffled his feet.

“Hey, Gage, I’m really glad you came over to me, and that you like my tattoo flower, but I’d feel better if I brought you back to Archie, or someone in your family.” I certainly wasn’t looking for an excuse to walk around searching for Renn.

“Okay, come on then.” Gage led me to the bleachers on one end of the football field. Underneath them, there was a table housing the AV equipment used for the projectors.

There were four women clustered around the table, looking down. I surmised they were PTSA members because they had that look of wealthy LA moms—enough money to stay plumped, waxed, threaded, tanned, toned, and clothed in the latest—moving into their late thirties and early forties with axe-sharpening precision. One woman glanced up at me and smiled while the others kept gawking at something under the table.

“Do you need help?” The smiling woman asked me at the same moment she noticed my companion. “Gage?” I could tell she was trying to puzzle out who I was, since she clearly knew the little boy beside me, but her gaze was merely curious and not unkind.

“Hi, Lydia. This is Sadie. She’s someone Renn did a tattoo on.” Gage turned to me. “Lydia is Ryder and Benji’s mom. They’re our friends.”

“Sadie!”

I startled as the coven of moms parted from what they’d been staring at—Renn working underneath the table, evidently making some kind of repair. He’d been laying on his back and popped up, tugging down his event t-shirt over a pair of running shorts. Holding a screwdriver in one hand and a ring of duct tape in the other, he swiped an arm over his brow to wipe off the sheen of sweat. This motion emphasized the tight fit of the shirt across his chest and brought it up enough to reveal the low rise of his shorts, which hung loose and emphasized his perfect, round backside—admired not only by myself but also the other women.

Renn spoke quickly. “I’m so sorry I didn’t see you before your race or after. It’s just been one thing after another. During the men’s thirty-to-thirty-four-year-old slot, there was a problem with the timekeeping device. Right after we solved that, the whole AV system could have collapsed because some genius—and by genius, I mean me—put all the heavy equipment on this one stupid folding table, so one leg started to buckle, and all the stuff almost came crashing down, and no one could find the janitor to let us into the storage closet to get another table, so I have been struggling to hold the fool thing up and fix it for fifteen minutes, seeing if I could get it to balance, until Lydia remembered we had duct tape at the registration desk, and I was just now able to repair it, to at least get it through the event, but anyway…I’m sorry I missed your race.”

He was breathless from his frantic recitation, chest rising and falling.

“It’s fine, Renn. That sounds like…a lot.” Lydia and the other women started to crowd around us. “Well, I just wanted to bring Gage back, and my race is over, so I guess I can get out of your hair—”

“No—wait!” Renn reached out and grabbed my wrist. He slid his hand down to squeeze my fingertips before putting his arm at his side. One of the women, who had a confident “don’t fuck with me” posture to go with her shiny dark hair, noticed the intimacy of this gesture and squinted her eyes at us.

“How’d you do?” Renn asked me, uncaring of our onlookers.

“Oh. I came in third, so pretty good. 20:53.”

“You beat my time by almost eight minutes.” Renn laughed, and I was hyperaware of the women’s eyes on us. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to cheer your epic finish.”

“No worries. I was only alone a few minutes until this one found me.” I gestured back to Gage. “We had an excellent discussion about tooth fairy economics.”

At that, Renn smiled, and the ladies were done being spectators.

“Great job with the table, Renn,” Lydia said. “I’m sure it will hold.” She placed her palm on the edge and pushed down a bit, proving its integrity. “And I wouldn’t worry about the other stuff. There’s always nonsense that happens during these events. I remember chairing the school auction during Ryder and Robbie’s kindergarten year. What a nightmare. The auctioneer arrived an hour late, drunk off his ass. One of the dads had to fill in for him. Actually, I think it was Robbie’s—” Lydia put her hand to her mouth, looking stricken as she realized too late where her memory was taking her. “Shit, Renn, I’m sorry. I know you don’t like to talk about him.”

One of the other three women looked puzzled. The cool brunette leaned over to whisper in the confused woman’s ear, causing her to push her cat-eyed sunglasses against her nose and nod discreetly in understanding.

Renn squeezed his eyes shut, and his body froze. After a few beats, he rolled his neck and turned to me, reaching out to grasp my hand. “It’s alright, Lydia,” he ground out, blinking rapidly and swallowing hard, clearly fighting offbiggeremotions.

I hoped Renn could recover quicker than he had at the fundraiser when he’d walked away from Pete mentioning Thomas. Gripping my fingers, he didn’t appear to be contemplating an escape route, but he didn’t seem in full control yet either. It was wild how just the mention of his dad could cause this reaction. One of the women tentatively put her hand on his shoulder as the silence grew sharp.

Something poked my hip and I looked down to see Gage making his eyeballs big, willing me to help ease the tension.

I stuttered a moment before coming up with, “Uh…hey…Lydia, did you want to see the piece Renn is working on for me?” The last thing I wanted to do was display myself for these women, but I needed to draw their attention away so Renn could gather himself without their eyes on him.

Lydia shot me a look of gratitude as I pulled my hand out of Renn’s grip and twisted my leg so they could view the tattoo. Gage looked at me and smiled, tilting his head like a puppy.