“Where’s my toothbrush?” Jacob says.
“Your toothbrush stays here. You’ve got another one at Papa’s,” I say. And we have four extras under the sink, just in case the one in the cup mysteriously gets slipped into a backpack and makes the trip to Markham.
The front door swings open, and Dominic rushes into the apartment.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He’s breathless, and his shirt is untucked on one side.
“It’s fine,” I say. “Can’t be helped.”
“The Don Valley Parkway was closed. Accident. Three cars and a tractor trailer. Can’t have happened more than twenty cars ahead of me. No way around, so I had to wait until the police arrived and started turning people back to the off-ramp. Everyone was trying to find another route and—” He shakes his head. “I hate driving in this city.”
He’s told us this already on the numerous updates he sent us while completely stalled in traffic.
“It’s fine,” Nash says, handing Dominic a backpack and turning to the boys. “Okay. Bye, guys. Have fun at the aquarium.”
The plan had been pretty solid. The boys were off school today. Nash took the day from work to spend with them, and I worked a half day. We passed the afternoon playing at home, and Dominic was supposed to pick them up at five, take them out for dinner somewhere, and then go with them to a sleepover at the aquarium, while Nash and I go celebrate the opening of this year’s festival.
Except Toronto traffic is a fickle mistress, and Nash and I were chewing on our fingernails for the last two hours, silently staring at the clock and Google Maps, willing Dominic to get here so Nash didn’t have to go solo to the opening.
Nash’s phone rings. “That’s probably Harpreet wondering where I am.” He strides back up the hall. His departure couldn’t be better timed, because I haven’t even turned back to Dominic and he’s sliding the small velvet box into my hand.
“I am so sorry,” he says, this time in a whisper. “I know you were waiting.”
I can’t say Dominic and I are BFFs, but we’re coming to an understanding. Nash has been hard-core in his efforts to help Jacob with school through the fall and winter, and it’s paying off. We’ve found Jacob an amazing tutor who really seems to understand how to break things down for him. He’s still struggling with his words, but he’s not hiding it from us, and that’s progress.
And Dominic... well, he’s still got a propensity to freak out whenever something hits a road block. This winter, Karter got sent home with a stern note from his teacher after he pushed a kid into a snowbank on the schoolyard. Dominic treated it like Karter was one step away from a criminal record, even after Karter explained the other boy was giving Jacob a hard time for needing extra help in class. I have no problem with the boys sticking up for each other, but I let Nash take the lead when Dominic starts overreacting.
“Okay, time to go,” Dominic says, gathering the boys and their bags.
“Bye, Brady!” Karter says, giving me a big smile that shows off all his missing teeth.
The boys are awesome. Sweet and hilarious. We’ve already booked a campground at the Pinery Provincial Park this summer. It’s going to be great.
“Bye, guys. Nash!” I call down the hall, sliding the box into my pocket. “They’re leaving, say goodbye.”
“Bye!” Nash rejoins us, kissing the boys and promising to see them again soon.
Dominic and the twins hustle out and the apartment descends into a brief silence.
“Okay. Get your coat,” he says, still sounding like he’s talking to the kids.
Instead, I give myself a second to take him in. I want to remember how he looks tonight forever. He’s like James Bond—if Daniel Craig weren’t exhausted and bleeding all the time. The crisp white of his shirt glows against the deep black of his tuxedo jacket. His lapels are satin and gleam under the lights.
“What?” He scowls as he catches me staring while he adjusts the rainbow cufflinks that peek out of his sleeves. I gave those to him at Christmas, but he’s been waiting until the opening night of the festival to wear them. He wanted it to be special, he said. As impeccable as he looks right now, I can’t wait to help him take them off later. I’m pretty good at it now; we’ve only lost one cufflink under the bed this month.
But first, I’m going to make tonight as special as I possibly can.
“Your tie is crooked,” I say, throat suddenly tight.
“What?” His hand goes to his collar, and he swings around like he might go for the mirror inside the hall closet. It’s not, and if he sees it, he’ll force us out of here before I can finish what I have to say.
“I’ll fix it for you,” I offer.
“I’ve got it.” He takes a step back.
“No, here, I’ve—”
“Brady, I’m—”
