Desmond’s forehead scrunches up as he frowns at me. The expression also scrunches up the bridge of his nose, crinkling his freckles adorably. It’s not fair that people this cute are just walking around freely, making life harder for the rest of us.
“I don’t care about making you a better goalie,” he says firmly. “I care that you make yourself sick with nerves before games. I care about the fact thatyouthink you’re a bad goalie,when I’ve got hours of video, statistics, and my own two eyes that prove otherwise.”
He opens his mouth to say more, but is distracted by his name being shouted by Aaron, one of our training staff. Desmond raises a hand in acknowledgement, before turning back to me and stepping close enough that he can put a hand on my shoulder.
“We’ll talk more on Monday,” he says, squeezing once before letting me go.
I nod, and duck my head to watch him walk across the room. His faith in me is misplaced. I can’t help but love him for it anyway.
6
Desmond
The artificial voiceof the map app tells me we arrive, so I click it off and pull slowly into the driveway.
“Holy crap!” Parker exclaims, face practically pressed against the window as he watches the scenery. “We’re like…in the wilderness.”
I laugh. We’re not, but I can admit that the unpaved, tree-lined drive certainly makes it feel that way. Pulling up to Nico’s garage, I put the car in park and turn around before Parker can go tearing out the door.
“Parks.” He looks at me. “Remember what we talked about, okay? Be careful with their things, and don’t make a mess. Chew with your mouth closed, and?—”
“—say please and thank you,” he cuts in, mimicking me in a mocking voice.
“Parker,” I say sternly. He sighs, and rolls his eyes.
“I know! I know.”
“Remember what I said about my boss?” I press, nervous now that we’re here. “About his eyes?”
“Yes, I remember. I’ll be good, I promise.”
Deciding that he seems earnest enough, and knowing it’s too late at this point anyway, I open my door. Parker follows, looking around eagerly at the house and the front yard. He seems nearly as excited to be here as he was to play Minecraft with Jack. Excited enough that, for a moment, he’s able to forget about his parents and me and everything that’s hard right now. I put a hand on the back of his neck and tug him into my side, not giving him a full hug but enough of one that I hope the message is received. He doesn’t push me away, but remains at my side as I ring the doorbell.
Although Nico warned me they had a dog, there’s no answering barks. Nico opens the door, dressed casually the way he told me to come with Parker. He’s not wearing shoes, and the sight of his socked feet reminds me there’s one thing I forgot to cover with Parker. I keep my hand on the back of his neck, holding on to him in case he gets it in his head to go tearing through the house in search of the dog.
“Come on in, Desmond,” Nico says, stepping back and holding the door wide. “You must be Parker? I’ve heard quite a bit about you from your uncle.”
Parker moves a little closer to me as we walk in and Nico shuts the door behind us, skin warm where his arm is pressed against mine. I’m grateful Nico added that last bit about knowing he’s not my son, eager to not repeat the way Parker told Jack about his dead parents.
“Hi,” Parker replies quietly, apparently feeling shy. Nico doesn’t seem bothered, and hovers patiently next to us.
“Take your shoes off, little man,” I tell him. “Thanks againfor having us, Macca. It’s beautiful back here.” Parker toes his shoes off, and I grab them before he launches them into the wall the way he always seems to do at home. I point at Nico. “This is Nico, my boss.”
“Hi,” he repeats. “Where’s your dog?”
I close my eyes, wondering if parenting is really just a long string of moments defined by being embarrassed by your children. Nico chuckles, and gestures for us to follow him. Parker looks at me before following; keeping his head on a swivel as he tries to look at everything all at once. I do the same thing, but in a less obvious way.
When he’d invited us over for dinner, Nico had warned me that his house was spartan because it provided less obstacles and things for him to trip over. I’d wondered why he’d felt the need to issue a warning about it, but now I can sort of see where he’s coming from. The furniture is placed rather oddly, and the lack of any rugs gives the rooms a cavernous feel. Even with the art on the walls, it gives strong model home vibes. Parker, who neither knows nor cares about interior decorating, pivots his head around in search of the elusive dog.
“Parker, Desmond, this is Anthony. My partner,” Nico says, leading us into the kitchen where Anthony Lawson is prepping something on a baking sheet. He beams at us and reaches out to shake my hand.
“Nice to finally meet you,” he says, before immediately turning to Parker and wrapping him in what looks like a tight, one-armed hug. Parker looks surprised, but doesn’t pull away and even goes so far as to put his own arm around Anthony. I try not to feel too hurt by that. The last time I’d tried to give him a hug, he’d acted as though I was a carrier of the plague.
“Hi,” Parker says, temporarily distracted from his quest to find the dog by the friendliness of this large stranger. “Desmond is my uncle.”
Anthony nods, and gives him a little squeeze before dropping his arm and stepping back.
“Good to know. I’m an uncle to seven nieces and nephews,” he says conspiratorially. “So I know how great uncles are.”
