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“Grr!” Noah growls at him, attempting to bite his nose.
Just then Callan runs inside after them, cackling with his super soaker in his hand and sprays Brantley’s back.
Someday, Brantley’s going to make a great dad. “Daddy!” Callan yells when he sees me and drops his gun on the kitchen floor running over to me. And then he sees my bag on the floor, and his stare holds mine. “Where are you going?”
I don’t want to tell him, but he’s here and questioning. He’s too smart for his own good.
I look at Brantley, who gives me a sympathetic smile. I swallow, my voice cracking when I say, “Come in here, buddy.” I move into the family room off the kitchen and then pat the spot next to me on the couch. “I need to talk to you.”
He shakes his head, knowing what I’m going to say. “I wanted you guys to fix your issues.”
I brush his hair from his face. “I tried, buddy, but sometimes you can’t fix it.”
“You didn’t try hard enough. It’s what you tell me. You do what you have to do to make it work, no matter what.”
I want to tell him he’s right, because he is. I should have tried harder but so should she.
Tears roll down his innocent face. “I don’t want you to move away.”
Jesus Christ, it’s like a goddamn sledgehammer has hit my chest. “I’ll still be around,” I tell him, my chin shaking as I lean in to kiss his forehead. “I’m never going to leave you. I just won’t be living here with you, and I’ll be at your game on Saturday.”
Callan stands, tears coming stronger now and I try to stop him, but he pushes past me and runs upstairs.
Goddamn it.
I look at Brantley who’s holding Noah. He sets him down, a frown set on his lips.
Standing, I take Noah from him. He slaps my cheek. “Hi, Daddy.”
“Hey, bud.” I kiss his cheek, and he frowns.
He pushes my face away and wiggles out of my arms. “No kisses.”
Noah’s young enough he won’t understand most of this, but there will be a time when he does.
He runs upstairs.
“Need a place to stay?” Brantley asks.
I nod. I’ve got nothing to say.
You can’t believe that, right?
Well, it’s true.
THE NEXT FEWdays pass in a blur, and before I know it, it’s Saturday morning.
Do you see that guy standing twenty feet from his soon-to-be ex-wife?
He’s fucking miserable. He’s barely slept, barely ate and this just in, homeless. Well, I’m sleeping on Brantley’s couch, but it sucks. I’ve always known he’s a bit strange, but the dude eats his cereal separate from his milk. Like he takes a bite of dry cereal and then takes a drink of milk.
He claims it keeps the cereal in the bottom of the bowl from getting stale.
Callan’s team is well into the second inning, I mean, quarter, or period… I don’t fucking know what it is, just that there are a bunch of kids kicking around a ball.
I’m not paying much attention to my surroundings, other than watching one of my son’s play soccer and the other one trying to befriend a lizard next to him.
That’s when I notice Nathalie standing next to me watching Brantley play with her little devil child.