“Yeah. Gimme one.” Jack flipped his hand back toward Gabi.
“Make it two!” I said, taking one from his hand. “You make these?”
“Yep. Your recipe.”
“Let’s see how you did,” I said, taking a bite. “Not bad! You actually cook or something?”
“I have to eat, so yeah,” he grumbled.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to insult you. Just—my ex never did. He was a helpless man unless it was hot dogs.”
“Helplessness is learned,” Jack grumbled.
Red rushed into my cheeks. “That’s ableist.”
“No, it’s not,” he argued. “You do everything you can do. I see you. It’s not your fault some stuff’s hard for you. Your ex was choosing to be helpless so you’d do it.” Like we hadn’t just stumbled into a serious conversation, a new Nickelback song played, and he turned it up. “Ready to kick it, kids?”
And for the rest of the ride to the arena, Jack and his kids belted out hits from Nickelback, and who would believe it, Creed.
Gabi hadHazel in her arms and I held Aspen’s hand.
“I want to hold Harper’s hand!” he objected.
“Fine, but let’s get through the parking lot first.”
“Ah, shit,” Jack said, turning to me. “They usually take pictures when we walk in. I can tell them not to if you want.”
Aspen gasped. “I’m going to be famous?”
“Up to your mom,” Jack said. “I get it if you don’t want them photographed.”
“Oh, um.” I was flustered, not expecting this. “What do you do?”
“I’m used to the kids being seen now and then. They’re classy with it. But I can ask them to blur their faces.”
I hesitated and Jack narrowed his eyes at me. “Hang tight.”
Jack took off down the hallway that was to serve as the catwalk, and Aspen and Harper went skipping off behind him, Jace not far behind them. “Aspen, wait, please,” I called.
“Wait for your mom,” Jack said, turning around with a smile.
Hazel, seeing the older kids taking off, lunged to get out of Gabi’s arms. I barely caught her, my back twinging. Jack’s eyes darkened. “You hurt yourself? Where’s your cane?”
“I didn’t need it, Jack?—”
But before I could finish my thought, he was wrestling Hazel out of my arms. “Come here, you,” he said under his breath to her.
So there we were, walking in as a mass of people with the photographer cheering us on. “We all have to hold hands!” Harper cried.
Gabi put her hands up. “No way.” She stepped back and bumped into a man walking in behind her, also looking sharp. His hands gripped her upper arms to steady her, like it was out of some 90s romcom. I made big “we’re talking about this later” eyes at her.
“Are you . . . a guest of Leroy?” the man asked.
Jack tugged on my hand, the rest of the group waiting for me. Gabi’s voice became a drone in the background as I stepped ahead with Jack, his kids, and my kids, a massive clump of people.
Within a few steps, Hazel was kicking to get out of Jack’s arms. He put her down and she toddled after the older kids, laughing her little head off. Jack stopped holding my hand, but we stood back and let the kids steal the show.
I felt a brush along my outer hip and realized that while Jack wasn’t holding my hand, he was still holdingme.
