“I feel like we owe him babysitting money,” Anthony muses, walking over to grab another chip and watching as Parker tosses the ball for Drou. For his part, Drou hasn’t yet worked out that he’s supposed to bring the ball back. Fetch appears to mainly be a game of tag.
“I was thinking I owed you,” I admit, making him laugh.
“Speaking of babysitting,” Anthony starts, pulling out the chair next to mine and straddling it, forearms resting on the back. “I know you and I only just met, but if you everdoneed a babysitter, I’d be happy to help.”
Nico looks at his partner and smiles so tenderly I look away, feeling like I shouldn’t have seen such a loving expression on his face. It wasn’t meant for me.
“That’s a huge ask, I couldn’t?—”
“You didn’t ask,” Anthony points out, and shrugs. “I love kids, and I doubt you’re going to have an easy time finding care for him with SCU’s game schedule. If you’re comfortable with it, I can help any time.”
“Parker tells me he’s old enough to stay home alone,” I tell him dryly, which has him tipping his head back and laughing.
“Something to think about, that’s all.” He pats my shoulder on his way back to the grill, Nico watching him go, still with that fond expression on his face. “Anybody hungry?”
“I am!” Parker shouts back, accompanied by barks from Drou as they run toward us. Nico stands and grabs the leash from where Parker discarded it onto the deck. Parker watchesin dismay as the puppy, panting and wagging his tail, is clipped back onto the lead. “Does he have to go?”
“I’ll feed him inside and bring him back out when you’re done eating. How’s that?” Nico offers.
“Okay,” Parker agrees, throwing himself into the chair next to me and probably gearing up to swallow his food as fast as humanly possible.
“Having fun?” I ask him as Anthony starts carrying over what was on the grill, tray steaming in his hands and bringing with it the scent of roasted veggies. My stomach rumbles in response, apparently not full enough of appetizers to not want more.
“Yeah. We should come here every week,” Parker suggests, face flushed and hairline sweaty. His shirt, which had been white before we got here, is somewhat artfully grass stained and there is an unmistakable muddy pawprint on the thigh of his jeans.
“Well, probably noteveryweek.”
I grab some of the roasted veggies, filling up half of Parker’s plate with the peppers, tomatoes, and onions. When Anthony comes back over with the meat, he holds it at eye level as though he’s a server in a restaurant.
“What’ll it be?” he asks Parker, who squints at the offerings like he’s making an important decision.
“Chicken,” he says decisively, pointing to a breast in the middle of the pan that looks exactly the same as the others. Anthony dutifully places it on his plate, and then does the same thing to me, before sitting down and filling up the plate in front of Nico’s seat.
When Nico rejoins us, he brushes his hand down the back of Anthony’s hair in thanks and takes a seat. Parker’seyes bounce between them as he chews on a pepper. Unsure whether he’ll eat it or not, but willing to finish his if he doesn’t, I plop a dollop of potato salad on his plate as well. I’m feeling really good about the nutritional value of this meal.
“Are you married?” Parker asks.
“No,” Nico says at the same time Anthony replies, “Not yet.”
“Grandma doesn’t like that Uncle Desmond likes boys. She says it’s unnatural.”
Oh good, so we’ve come to the unfiltered part of the evening. “Parks, let’s not talk about Grandma?—”
“Mom said that’s bullshit though and people should get to love anyone they want unless it’s a goat,” he finishes. Anthony hacks out a laugh around his bite of steak, turning his head to the side and covering his mouth to cough.
“Parker! No swearing, come on, mate, you know you’re not supposed to say that. And don’t talk about…loving goats at the table. Or at all,” I add. I’m pretty sure what he actually overheard was my sister making an inappropriate joke about fucking goats, but that’s a conversation I’m saving for when he’s older.
He opens his mouth, likely to air more family dirt about things my mother has apparently said in his vicinity, but Nico carefully moves the conversation away.
“What do you like to do for fun?” he asks, which prompts a hard-to-follow and painfully dull story about Minecraft that Anthony and Nico nonetheless listen to with rapt attention.
Parker does end up eating both a chicken breast and a steak, as well as two helpings of roasted veggies and the potato salad. He informs us it’s not his favorite, but somehowmanages to eat it anyway. When pie is mentioned, he lets Nico know that yes, his dessert side is still empty and he would like some pie. He eats two slices.
“Can I play with Drou again?” he asks. We stare at him in amusement, unable to fathom running around without puking after the amount of food he just ate. Parker, misreading the silence, glances at me. “After I wash my plate?”
“You can leave your plate there,” Nico says, rising fluidly and stepping behind Anthony. “Why don’t you and I go get Drou.”
They head inside, Parker practically pressed against the back of Nico as he follows him too closely.
