Page 5

CHAPTER FIVE

T he boys were up early as usual on Sunday morning—no sleeping in despite how busy a day they’d had the day before—and Bryan fed them cereal, then they walked over to the Farmer’s Market. He loved the market. All the different stalls, from food to goods like soap and yarn, flowers. The boys were always fascinated by everything, full of questions. They were early enough today that it wasn’t busy yet and the vendors were happy to explain things to them. And feed them samples. He wasn’t going to have to feed them lunch at this rate.

“What’s that?” Dylan asked, pointing at a round, white vegetable—at least Bryan assumed it was a vegetable—with a few stalks coming out of it.

He knew it wasn’t fennel, celery root, or cauliflower. While those were all white, they weren’t smooth like this one was. “I don’t know,” he admitted, looking to the farmer for the answer.

“That there is kohlrabi. It’s a little like an apple and a little like a radish.”

Dylan wrinkled his nose, and he shook his head. “I don’t like radish.”

“Ah, but this isn’t sharp like a radish,” the guy told them. “Would you like to try a bite?”

“I would, please.” Bryan was curious, even if the boys weren’t.

Micah made a face and closed his mouth, keeping his lips tight. Bryan didn’t laugh at him, but it was adorably cute and he wanted to. There was a lot that Micah liked, but he was at the stage of being suspicious of anything he hadn’t tried before.

Dylan looked unsure, but he finally nodded his head and held out his hand when the farmer cut a couple of pieces off the kohlrabi. He handed them over, and Bryan and Dylan tasted it. It was kind of like an apple and radish had a baby, but it wasn’t a lot like either of apples or radishes. Definitely not sharp like a radish, or nearly as sweet as an apple.

“They’re great in salads, or as snacks just like you’re having now.”

“I can see that. Can you cook them?”

“You can, but they lose a lot of the flavor if you do. Raw’s the best way.”

“Good to know. We’ll take one.” Bryan was planning on making a salad anyway, so he’d chop some of the kohlrabi up and add it in. He loved the name of the vegetable, unlike anything he’d ever heard of.

He also picked up broccoli, carrots, corn, and two kinds of lettuce, along with strawberries, pears, and apples. Then he grabbed a free-range chicken from one of the stalls with meat available. He didn’t know exactly what he was making for supper tonight, but he knew it would involve chicken and broccoli so Dev’s girls would be happy. The beef farmer had hamburger on special, so he grabbed some of that for tomorrow. If he made a macaroni and beef casserole, there would be leftovers for a couple nights and it was one of his boys’ favorites. He also stopped to get a dozen eggs from the egg guy.

In the end, he’d spent more on a few days’ food than he usually spent in a week, but it was all good quality, and he could afford it. He’d just been scrimping and trying to make ends meet for long enough that it had become habit, and his budget belt was very tight. He imagined he was going to use the chicken leftovers to make soup, and he was going to stretch that ground beef to several meals, maybe even more, to make up for the spending.

The boys both had backpacks, and he put the strawberries and pears in Dylan’s, while the apples went into Micah’s. The rest of the food went into his own backpack.

He held his hands out to them. “Okay, let’s get our treasures home.”

“Look, there’s a chocolate stall.” Dylan pointed.

“So there is.” He didn’t think they needed any chocolate; yesterday had been a full-on treats day with slushies and candy and ice cream.

“Please, Daddy, can we have some?” Dylan asked, and his little brother took up the call.

“Please, Daddy. Please, Daddy. Please.”

He was half considering it when he saw the price of just one little truffle. It looked like he was going to get to be the bad guy. “Not today, our bags are full.”

“I carry more!” Micah told him, but he shook his head.

“Maybe the next time we come.”

“Yay!” they celebrated together.

“I said maybe next time.”

“Does that mean no?” Dylan asked.

“It means that we’re not getting any today, but there’s a possibility we will get some next time we come to the market. Okay?”

Even at just six years old, Dylan could make a sigh sound world-weary. “Okay, Daddy.” Still, he slipped his hand back into Bryan’s and didn’t keep bugging him to get them chocolate.

Bryan wasn’t averse to them having chocolate, but they didn’t need to spend three dollar and fifty cents for a small bite. No matter how good the chocolate was. Besides, it wasn’t like the boys were that discerning, and they’d be just as happy with the cheap chocolate you could get in the grocery store.

It was a lovely day, and the walk home was nice, Dylan and Micah talking about all the animals they’d seen at the zoo the day before. He loved hearing them being animated and happy.

“Can we stop at the park, Daddy?”

He pondered that for a moment. It wasn’t too warm yet and the chicken and ground meat would be okay not refrigerated for a short while. “Okay. For fifteen minutes. When I say it’s time to go, it’s time to go. Deal?”

“Deal!” The boys left him their backpacks and ran to the play structure in the middle of the park.

He checked his watch for the time, picked up the backpacks and followed along after them. They were pretty good about not complaining when he said it was time to go, but if he’d told them how long they had ahead of time and made them agree to the ‘deal,’ they were very good about adhering to it.

There were a few other kids there, some of them with both parents, and it gave him a little pang, being there on his own, as he always was. That wasn’t going to change any time soon, though. He didn’t know when he’d be ready to trust someone again, but that certainly wasn’t today.

He had a friend now, though. Someone who had been through the same experience as he had, and that made their friendship special. And if he yearned for Dev to be more than a friend, well, he could live with that, too.

He opened up his browser on his phone and looked up chicken recipes while the boys played.

Bryan roasted the chicken instead of doing a casserole, and made a cheese sauce for the broccoli, which was the only way his boys liked the ‘trees’. He made a big salad, and a strawberry shortcake for dessert. The berries were so good, juicy and bursting with flavor. He also had made some biscuits with the Bisquick mix; he hoped he could be forgiven for using a ready-mix package to help with supper, but he just wasn’t good at making biscuits, rolls would have taken too long, and he’d forgotten to get anything like that when they’d been out.

He had the shortcake in the fridge along with the salad, and the chicken was nearly done, the broccoli ready to be turned on as soon as it was, when the doorbell rang.

“I got it!” Dylan yelled, and he could hear both of his boys thundering down the hall like a herd of elephants.

“Check who it is first!” he called out. They were too ready to just fling open the door and he’d had to fend off a furnace salesman because of it. It had taken him ten minutes of insisting he wasn’t in the market, no matter how good the deal was before he’d finally been rude and just shut the door in the man’s face midsentence. No was a complete sentence and he’d resented the hard sell when he’d been more than clear. It also wasn’t safe for them to open the door to just anyone; a salesman was the least of the bad options.

“It’s Mr. Dev and Marley and Juniper,” Dylan called out.

“Then you can let them in.”

He dried his hands on the dishtowel and made his way out to the front hall. “Hi, guys, come on in.”

“They’re already in, Daddy!”

He rolled his eyes, and Dev laughed. The man had a great laugh, and it made him feel good inside. Not to mention Dev was as good-looking as he remembered. Maybe even better looking, in fact. He gave Dev a warm smile.

“Wanna see our room?” Dylan asked the girls, and the four kids took off down the hall just like that.

“Thanks for coming,” he said, leading Dev back to the kitchen.

“Hey, thanks for having us. It smells good.”

“Roasted chicken and cheesy broccoli. It shouldn’t be too much longer.”

“Oh, score on the meal. Marley will be over the moon at that.”

“I want you all to like it.” He wanted Dev and the girls to like him, and he figured feeding them the food they wanted would make a good start.

“I’m sure we will. I’m hopeless in the kitchen, but if there’s anything I can do to help…”

Bryan laughed. “It’s pretty much all done. The table’s even set.” He’d wanted to get everything out of the way so he and Dev could spend time together without him being distracted by the details of setting the table or finishing off the meal. “So you’ve never learned to cook?” Bry’s folks had made sure he could make fried eggs for breakfast, mac ‘n cheese for lunch, and cook burgers and spaghetti for dinner. He’d learned to do more from there. And the internet was his best friend for everything from cooking times to recipes and step-by-step how-to videos. He loved that he didn’t have to leave things to chance and hope for the best; if he wasn’t sure, he looked it up.

“Never had to.” Dev shrugged. “My mother was very traditional and always cooked, and then I was always more interested in my studio, in making art.”

“That’s cool. I have absolutely no artistic talent whatsoever.” His brain was definitely of a pragmatic bent rather than artistic.

“Oh now, I don’t believe that.”

“No?”

“Nope. Everyone has some creativity in them.” Dev said it like he really believed it.

“You say that now, but you haven’t seen my attempts at drawing people.” He really did have no talent in that area. And it wasn’t just the stick figures he passed off as people that told him that. Any time he sat to draw with the boys, his efforts were… painful, really.

“Just because they don’t look like people, doesn’t make it noncreative,” Dev insisted. “You’ll have to join me in the studio one day and we’ll create stuff. You’ll see.”

“Or you will.”

Dev laughed. “Let’s put a pin in it until we can test each of our hypotheses.”

“I can do that.” Dev didn’t have to believe him. He’d see when Bry tried to actually paint or draw or whatever Dev wanted to throw at him. But he really liked the fact that Dev was talking like they were going to be seeing each other again. More than just the date for next weekend that he’d mentioned at the zoo yesterday.

His timer went off, and he grabbed the oven mitts and checked the chicken. The thermometer said it was over 185 so he knew it was ready.

He took it out and covered it, then turned the heat on under the broccoli and set the timer for ten minutes. Then he leaned against the counter and smiled at Dev.

“Did you want a tour of the place? We’ve got ten minutes before supper’s ready, but the tour won’t take that long.” Everything was on the same floor, and it wasn’t large by any means. It fit them perfectly, though. When the boys were older, he might need to find someplace with another bedroom so they didn’t have to share, but at the moment, they were happy together.

“Sure.”

“Well, this is the kitchen.” He waved his hand around, showing it off. It wasn’t huge, but there was a good amount of counter space and a teeny table, which had three chairs squeezed around it. He’d grown up eating at a formal dining table for every meal, and he’d made a choice not to do that when he had kids of his own. The table was small, but it kept their meals informal and fun.

“It’s bright and clean,” Dev noted, then winked at him. “I’m not worried we’ll get salmonella.”

Bry laughed and led Dev out across to the dining room. He had a large table there, and usually it held his laptop at one end and a space for the boys to do homework, color, or other crafts at the other end. This evening, it had been cleared off and was now set for six. The four formal chairs would be augmented by two of the chairs from the kitchen table. There was an old sideboard that held all of the boys’ craft supplies, Lego kits, puzzles, and the like.

“I usually use one end of the table as my office.” He nodded at the short file folder drawer in the back corner of the room that held his clients’ paperwork.

Dev ran his fingers along the table. “It’s a lovely table. Beautiful wood.”

“It is. I picked it up at a flea market and sanded it down, re-varnished it.” It had been a great find that had been a fraction of the cost of a new one.

The dining room opened onto the living room at the front of the house. There was a couch and an easy chair and the wall behind the couch had two bookcases full of books, while the wall opposite the couch held the TV. He and the boys could sit together and watch, or they could sit on their own. He had a low coffee table with rounded corners to avoid too much pain if you bumped into it, which he seemed to do on a regular basis and his shins would testify to the accuracy of that statement.

“Oh, this is cozy.” Dev looked around, smiling.

Bryan translated cozy as small, and yeah, it was. The whole house was—he’d bet the entire footprint would fit inside Dev’s living room—but the price was right, the owners who were upstairs were amazing people, and it had been a godsend when he’d found it after Grant had stolen everything.

“The bedrooms and bathroom are down the hall.” He didn’t have a fancy en suite, but there was a shower and a bathtub in the bathroom along with the toilet and sink. “The boys have the master because it’s bigger and they’re sharing.”

They peeked into the last three rooms, and he was glad he’d made his bed and made sure his little room was neat and tidy. Dev put a hand on his arm, squeezed. “It’s a really cute place. Very homey.”

He nodded. “It’s home.” And they’d been happy here, recovering financially and emotionally.

“So when do you work?” Dev asked as they made their way back to the kitchen.

“Well, I was just working at night, but this year, Micah started kindergarten, so I have time in the day to get things done. I usually put in four or five hours while they’re not here, then add in a couple hours after they go to bed if I need to. I get a lot less sleep during tax season, but like I’ve said, I get to make my own hours even then, so it’s ideal.” He’d worked so much harder when he’d been with a firm, and now he was his own boss, too. “Do you have specific hours you work?”

Dev shook his head. “I mean, I try to make sure I get into the studio every day, but some days all I do is clean. But on the whole, I work when the spirit moves me. Luckily, I get inspired a lot.”

“That’s great. Was it hard to work right after… you know?”

“Oh, I worked. Angry, nasty pieces that were the antithesis of what I’d done in the past. My agent calls it my angry period. But it helped to get how I was feeling out.”

Bryan nodded. “Yeah, I took up kick boxing at this tiny gym that didn’t cost too much, so I get that.”

“I imagine you would.”

Yeah, they’d both been taken the same way. Nobody else understood exactly how it felt. He was glad to have someone to share that with, but even more glad that he and Dev seemed to be finding other things in common and were enjoying each other’s company. He had a feeling he’d really like to continue enjoying each other’s company a whole lot more.

Once the five-cent tour was over, they only had a few more minutes ’til the broccoli was done, so he uncovered the chicken and started carving. Slicing up the breast and pulling off the legs and wings. He split the legs into drumstick and thigh. He was glad the chicken was as big as it was. Grocery store chickens were small compared to the ones you could get at the market and there was six of them after all. Usually, he’d say his boys didn’t eat much anyway, but that suspected growth spurt had Dylan eating easily twice as much as he used to.

“That looks delicious. And you made it yourself, which is impressive.” Dev’s praise felt good.

“Thank you.”

The timer went off and he checked the broccoli. He stabbed a fork in one to make sure it was soft enough, then transferred the florets to a bowl. He poured the cheese sauce over the green, not mixing it in at all. That way if the girls preferred theirs without cheese, they’d be able to pick some pieces out around what cheese was in there.

“Need any help?” Dev asked.

“If you could grab the broccoli, and the chicken, I’ll bring the salad and biscuits and we’re ready to go.”

“Cool.” Dev grabbed the bowl and the plate and headed for the dining room.

Bry uncovered the basket with the biscuits and grabbed the salad from the fridge. Once they had all the food on the table, he called out, “Hey, kids, supper is ready!”

“Coming!” They definitely sounded like a bigger than usual herd of elephants with all four of them running to the dining room.

“Oh damn, the extra chairs.” He hot-footed it back to the kitchen to grab two of the chairs and bring them back out. “Sorry.”

Dev touched his arm again. “No stress, we’re just happy to get a home-cooked meal.”

“Thanks.” He was enjoying the little touches Dev kept giving him. It felt… intimate. And he hadn’t had that in quite a while. Maybe he was a little more ready than he’d thought—to consider having a special friend. He gave Dev a warm, genuine smile and pointed at the table. “Everyone sit and help yourselves.” He hoped he hadn’t made a mistake, only getting one chicken, but there was lots of other stuff for people to eat if they were still hungry, and there was dessert, right?

His worry dissipated once everyone had filled their plates—there were leftovers of everything so if anyone needed seconds that would be fine. And for a few minutes, it was quiet as everyone dug in and had their first few bites.

“This is really good, Mr. Bryan,” Marley told him after she’d had a bite of both her chicken and her broccoli.

He beamed at her. Dev would tell him it was good whether it was or not, he was sure, but kids were far more likely to be honest, especially when it came to food. “Thank you, very much.”

“Daddy, butter my biscuit.” Micah passed his biscuit over.

“What’s the magic word?”

“I know! It’s please! Daddy, please butter my biscuit.”

“That is indeed the magic word.” Grinning, he cut Micah’s biscuit open and put butter on both sides before handing it back. Then he did the same for himself.

“What’s the little white rectangles in the salad?” Juniper asked, looking at them suspiciously.

“Dylan?” Bryan thought maybe his boy would like to tell them about the new vegetable they’d discovered at the market this morning.

“It’s a kol… korab…kolbaby?” Dylan looked to him.

“That was close—kohlrabi.”

“It’s a kolrabi! The man said it tasted like radish and apple, but it doesn’t because I don’t like radish and I know what apple tastes like. It tastes okay, though.” As if to prove the point, Dylan stabbed one of the little bites and put it in his mouth, munching on it.

“I’d never heard of it before this morning,” Bry admitted. “But the farmer suggested it would be good in a salad, and I think he’s right.”

Dev took a forkful of salad, making sure it had a piece of the kolrabi in it, and he nodded as he chewed. “It’s good. I like that the salad has all sorts of bits and pieces in it. It’s like a party.”

Juniper looked at Dev like he’d lost his mind. “Salads are not parties, Da.”

Bry bit the side of his cheek to keep from laughing.

Micah looked at his salad, then he nodded. “Salads not parties!”

“No, but they’re good to eat,” Bry suggested. “And I put some strawberries in this one, and some sliced almonds, so it’s even got dessert-like ingredients in it.”

Juniper looked through the very small portion of salad she’d taken and frowned. “I don’t have strawberries.”

Grabbing the tongs, Bryan carefully picked up a couple pieces of strawberries and set them on top of the lettuce on her plate. “There you go.”

“Thank you, Mr. Bryan.”

“Did you guys do anything fun today?” Dev asked, looking at the boys.

“We saw the market,” Dylan told him, his older boy always likely to take everything in order.

“We made playdough and swung in the park,” Micah added. His younger boy was more the in-order-of-best-to-least-best kind of guy.

“You made your own playdough?” Dev asked, looking to him this time.

“Oh yeah. It’s super easy. We even made three different colors this time. And as long as you keep it in an airtight container, it lasts for months. Or you can cook it once you’ve made your shapes and it turns hard like a statue.”

“How neat is that?” Dev looked so impressed.

“It really is easy.” He didn’t want to take credit where it wasn’t due.

“Don’t sell yourself short. I didn’t even know you could make it yourself.”

He shrugged, but he guessed he’d take it. Even if the only reason he knew how to make homemade playdough was because for a while there, he couldn’t afford the store-bought stuff.

Marley had a second piece of chicken breast and some more salad, confirming that she’d been honest about liking his food. His boys both had seconds on the biscuits, while Juniper chewed on a wing, attacking it to get all the bits of meat off the bone. When he offered Dev the chicken plate, the man waved him off.

“I really do graze through most of the time, so this is already a big meal for me.”

“Well, there’s leftovers then, if you need another bite in a while.”

“I just might take you up on that. I bet it tastes great sandwiched between two halves of a biscuit.”

Bryan had to grin. “I can confirm that it does indeed.” Leftover meat sandwiches were not only economical, they were one of his favorite things. He’d had many a midnight snack sandwich. “There’s also dessert, but maybe we should wait a bit, let dinner settle before we have that?”

“That sounds perfect.”

“Did you guys want to watch a movie?” he offered the kids.

“Marley said she’d read to us.” Micah adored being read to. Dylan was more into trying to read the books himself now, which worked out well because Micah would happily sit and be his audience, but Bry imagined Dylan would be happy to listen to Marley read because she was someone new.

“I did. You have some great books to choose from, too. Can we be excused?” she asked.

“You can—boys wash your hands, please.” If they didn’t, everything they touched would need a cleaning.

“Everyone should wash their hands,” Dev suggested.

Marley sort of rolled her eyes, but she called out, “Okay!” and that stampede of elephants made their way down the hall to the bathroom. Bry was glad, as he always was, that the Pereisos lived above them and not beneath them.

“Let me help you clear the table and do the dishes,” Dev offered.

“That would be great, thanks.”

They got the table cleared, and he started putting the leftovers away. Dev grabbed a plate and rinsed it, then stood there, looking around, little frown drawing a line between his eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Bryan asked.

“I can’t find the dishwasher.”

Bryan laughed. “That’s funny—you’re looking right at it.”

Dev looked around some more, then back to him, frown lines deeper.

He gave Dev a break and pointed his finger at himself. “Me. I’m the dishwasher.”

“You don’t have a dishwasher? I mean a mechanical, put the dishes in it and let the machine wash them dishwasher.”

“Nope. It’s an older house, and there isn’t really room for one in here.” Besides, most of the time there were dishes for just the three of them, and he usually cleaned up as he made food, so there was never all that many dishes to do at once. This was the first time he’d had guests over for supper—well the first time he’d had guests over, period, since Grant. It was funny—and not in the hahaha way—how having a spouse die and then all your money stolen really sent the people you’d called friends out of your life. Grant had helped with that, Bry knew that now, isolating him from the few friends who’d stuck around after Miller had passed.

He stuck the leftovers tupperware into the fridge and grabbed the shortcake out to put on the table and allow to come up to room temperature. Then he grabbed the plate from Dev’s hand and turned the tap back on. He had a scrub brush with soap in the handle that worked really well at cleaning, and he started washing the first plate.

“I guess I’ll dry?” Dev suggested.

Bryan reached over to one of the drawers and pulled out a dishcloth, tossing it at Dev. “You can stack the dishes on the counter next to the rack and I’ll put them away when you’re done.” It would save Dev from having to search out where everything went.

They did the dishes without talking much, but instead of awkward, the silence felt companionable. Bryan couldn’t remember the last time he’d shared quiet space with another adult. Usually, he felt like he needed to fill any silences, and he wasn’t the greatest at small talk, so it always felt awkward.

“Would you like a coffee or some tea?” The dishes were done, and he felt like something warm to go with their dessert, which he was sure the kids—or his boys at least—would come hunting soon enough.

“Oh, tea would be nice. What have you got?”

He opened the pantry. “Tea’s here on the eye-level shelf.” He had a box of orange pekoe, and several boxes of herbal stuff, mint, camomile for the nights he couldn’t sleep, along with some of the celestial seasoning zingers.

“What goes with our dessert?” Dev asked, eyes twinkling.

“You just want to know what dessert is.” Though Dev had seen him take it out to the dining room table.

“Maybe. It will probably impact my choice though.”

Chuckling, he pointed to the pekoe and the mint. “Either of those will go well. I’m having the mint. Oh, it’s strawberry shortcake. The berries looked amazing at the market this morning.”

“That sounds great, and I’ll go with the mint too.”

“I’ll make a potful then.” That way if they wanted second cups they were there.

He grabbed a couple of bags from the container and set them on the counter. Then he filled the kettle up and turned it on before grabbing the teapot out of the cupboard. He rinsed the inside with hot water before putting in the tea bags.

“Is that how you’re supposed to do it?” Dev asked.

Bryan shrugged. “It’s what my grandmother always used to do—warm up the teapot. She claimed the tea tasted better if the pot knew it was coming.”

“Oh, that’s neat. I love stuff like that, you know? The little historical details about stuff, people, places. The things that make them unique.”

“She was that.” Bryan remembered her fondly. She and his mom had fought a lot, but he’d spent time at her place every summer while both his parents worked. She’d been just far enough that it made more sense for him to spend the bulk of the summer staying with her while his folks would come spend either Saturday or Sunday visiting. He’d been only ten when she’d died, and it had been devastating. For a long time, he’d thought she’d abandoned him. Actually being abandoned had been reserved for his parents who’d disowned him when he’d come out. He’d tried reaching out when he’d married Miller, and then again when the kids were born, all to no avail. He had not reached out at all when Miller had died. For all he knew, they were both gone now, not that it mattered if they were or not—in a practical way, they were, by their own choice.

“You were close?” Dev asked softly, clearly picking up on his melancholy.

He nodded. “I stayed with her every summer until she died when I was ten.”

Dev reached out and squeezed his hand. “I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks. It was a long time ago.”

“But your love for her never goes away.”

“No, no it doesn’t. But it makes me happier than sad to remember her now.” He was pretty sure she would have stood by him when he’d come out. She’d been special.

He shook himself as the kettle whistled, and he poured the water into the pot and set the lid on it. Then he set the timer for six minutes. “The mint ones take longer to seep. Unless you prefer it weak.” He tried not to imply that weak tea was for wusses, but he may not have been successful given the way Dev laughed at him.

“I like it however you want to make it.”

Dylan came zooming in and Bry hid his smile. He knew what this was.

“Daddy—is dessert ready yet?”

“Are you already hungry after such a big dinner?”

“There’s always room for dessert.”

“I know, I know. You boys and your dessert stomachs.” He grinned over at Dev. “They apparently have a stomach dedicated to desserts, and it’s always empty.”

“Oh, is that how it works?”

“Apparently so.”

“Daddy!”

“Yes, Dylan?”

“Is dessert ready yet?”

“If you go get the others and come help set the table for it, then it can be ready.”

Dylan took off, and he grabbed six little plates from the cupboard and got six forks out of the utensil drawer.

“Can I help?” Dev asked.

He nodded to the cupboard over the toaster. “Four glasses for milk or water—or whatever your girls want. The boys will have milk.”

All four kids were back before Dev had all the glasses down, and they dutifully grabbed everything and took it out into the dining room.

“The girls can have milk too,” Dev suggested, going to the fridge and pulling out the jug, which he gave to Juniper to take out into the dining room when she came back.

“Can you handle cutting the cake?” Bryan asked Marley. She nodded and he handed her the cake slicer.

The timer went off just then and he chuckled. “Not bad timing, eh?”

“No, I’d say perfect.”

“If you can grab a couple of mugs, I’ll bring out the tea.” He mentally went over what they needed, making sure he wasn’t forgetting anything. Then he grabbed the tea cozy Mrs. Pereiso had made him and the tea and brought them into the dining room.

“Dylan, I need a hot plate for the tea kettle.” So much for making sure he had everything.

“’K, Daddy.” Dylan popped down from his chair and ran into the kitchen, coming back a moment later with the ceramic tile hot plate that he’d colored at the beginning of the summer.

“I made it,” Dylan said proudly as he put it down on the table.

Bryan gave everyone a moment to admire the abstract mess of colors before setting the teapot on it.

“Okay, who wants strawberry shortcake?”

There were a chorus of “me!”s and he helped Marley cut and hand out pieces of cake until everyone had a slice in front of them. The boys had been good, remembering to wait until everyone was served before eating. He nodded at them, and they grabbed their forks and dug in like they hadn’t just had supper twenty minutes ago. Juniper followed suit and Marley ate, too, but she was more delicate about it.

“This is delicious,” Dev informed him after a bite. “And good call on the strawberries, they’re stunning.”

“Thanks.” He poured tea out into their mugs before taking a bite of the cake. It had turned out nice, and the berries were exactly the right combination of sweet and tart, while the whipped cream melted on his tongue.

He and Dev were savoring theirs, so it was no surprise when all four kids were finished long before them.

“It’s not bedtime yet, is it?” Dylan asked.

Their usual schedule was bath and bedtime routine after dinner, even if they read in bed for a while, but they’d had supper a little earlier today and they had guests.

“Why don’t you guys pick a movie to watch?” he suggested, knowing that would at least have them calm by the time they did finally get to their bath.

Dylan knew how to get the TV on and get to the Disney app so he wasn’t worried about letting them do it themselves.

“You think they’ll be able to find something they all want to watch?” he asked Dev.

“It’ll be interesting to see, given the age gap.”

Bry wasn’t surprised when Brave came up on the screen. “This is their favorite at the moment. I think it’s the three little brothers.”

“It’s always been a favorite of the girls, so I’m not surprised it’s what they landed on. Marley’s branching out into older movies. All the stuff aimed at the younger teens, but also Marvel movies and stuff like that. She’s good about watching younger stuff, too though, like the animated stuff. As long as it’s not too young.”

“So no Paw Patrol for her?”

“No. And Juniper’s lost her taste for it, too.”

That wasn’t surprising given their ages. He was just happy there were movies they all could agree on.

“So what are you working on now?” he asked, grabbing his tea and checking to see if it was still too hot to drink. He took an experimental sip and didn’t totally burn his lip off. So he took a bigger swallow.

“You mean besides making that asshole sorry he ever even thought about stealing our money?”

“Yeah. I meant more in the now that you’re finished with the penguins way.”

Dev nodded and told him about his most recent pieces.

Bryan listened, watching the way talking about his art lit Dev’s eyes up, the way his lips curved as he spoke, teeth peeking through now and then.

He couldn’t remember having a nicer evening or a nicer man to spend it with, and he hoped there would be more like it. Many more.