“I didn’t ask. I just…I didn’t know what to do, you know? I just took Owen and we left. He was quiet —too quiet— and I kind of decided to just give him one of those yes days to hopefully make him feel better.”
“Did he say anything?” Gabe pulls out his phone and starts typing quickly.
“What are you doing? And no, he said he didn’t want to talk about it. When I asked, he said that he stayed downstairs and watched a movie.” Gabe is still typing furiously. “Seriously, what are you doing?”
Gabe looks up and smiles at me. “Don’t worry about it, baby. How about you go outside with Owen, and I’ll be there in just a minute? I’m going to put my bag in your room.”
“Daddy?”
“Sweetheart, just do as I say, please. Trust me.”
I do trust him.
Nodding, I join Owen in playing superheroes, losing myself in the imaginary play just like Owen is. I’ll always do what I need to for my son, but I also know that my Daddy will do the same for me. I can feel a lump in my throat again at that thought.
Our relationship was always on a fast track, with diving headfirst into the kink and spending every moment we can together. Gabe has become my rock to lean on for anything, big or small.
“Daddy?” Owen’s voice pulls me out of my serious thoughts about Gabe.
“Yeah, buddy?” I splash one of the superheroes into the water and it makes us both giggle. He wipes his face clean of the water droplets before talking again.
“I don’t want you to be mad at me.”
I pause and look directly at my son. “I would never be mad at you, Owen. Why would you think that?”
“You looked mad when we were leaving Grandma and Grandpa’s.” His shoulders slump. No five-year-old should ever feel this way. Not about their family. I hate that he’s experienced this.
“I wasn’t mad, buddy. Not at you. I was upset that they didn’t let you join the party with the other kids.”
“They said I was too little. They was playing big kid games that I didn’t understand.”
“Did they try to let you play?”
“No. They said I could watch, but then Grandma said I could go watch a movie downstairs because there wasn’t enough room at the table for everyone.”
I ball my hand into a fist and try not to cry at those words. I never want to think of my son as excluded from anything, especially at his grandparents.
“Okay, good news for both of you. We are most definitely having a party.” Gabe’s voice reaches us before he steps out of the house and shields his eyes from the sun. “Mister Owen, Brian is coming over, along with Rachel from your class. Marshall and Izzy are coming too, and they’re bringing pizza for all of us. We have exactly forty-five minutes before people show up, so why don’t we go clean up and we can build the most epic blanket fort in the living room for all of us to watch movies.”
I’m left sitting in the water, speechless, as Owen jumps up and runs to Gabe. “Really?”
“Yes, really. So why don’t you and your Daddy go clean up? I’m going to run to my apartment and grab some supplies. I’ll be back in thirty minutes. We’re going to have the most awesome party ever.”
Owen disappears into the house, and I hold out a hand for Gabe to help me up. “You didn’t have to do this, Gabe.”
“First off, hearing you call me by my name when we’re alone sounds weird. I much prefer Daddy. Secondly, no one is allowed to make either of my boys feel sad. I could see how much this hurt you.”
“I know that they aren’t Owen’s friends, but if I’d known she was hosting a party for them, I wouldn’t have dropped Owen off. I would have figured something else out. I just can’t help but think what if this isn’t the first time? Owen’s always said he’s had fun, but I know the other kids have been at the house before. What if she always keeps them separate or the others tell him they don’t want to play with him?”
“Baby, please calm down.” Daddy rubs his hands down my arms until I can feel my muscles relaxing again. “It’s going to be okay. I don’t want you to worry about a thing, alright? Daddy is going to take care of everything. You just enjoy spending a fun Saturday night with your son.”
I lean up and kiss him. As the seconds pass and our tongues glide together, I do as he says once again. I let the worry and stress melt away and I promise to focus on having fun.
Owen and I take turns in the shower and I’m helping him put on a clean pair of socks when the doorbell rings. Gabe knows that the door is unlocked, so it has to be someone else. I let Owen race forward —quietly hoping he doesn’t slip in his socks— and open the door on his own.
“Owen!” A small voice yells and two kids rush in and surround my son in a group hug. Mandy walks in behind them with a big bag on her shoulder. She glances my way and smiles.
“Your house is amazing, Justin. That college must be paying well.”
