xVerity: That’s because if I told you, I’d have to kill you, Harley.
LoveHarley: wow okay
Gage narrowed his eyes and reread what xVerity had written. It wasn’t often that xVerity talked about his life. Gage knew that he had a daughter, Nikki, but apart from that, most of what he knew about xVerity, he’d learned through reading between the lines of their conversations. Even then, he didn’t know much. xVerity was responsible and professional. The things he typed were sensible and practical, and he always had stellar advice. In real life, Gage assumed that xVerity had a zen vibe—that he was the type of guy who wasn’t easily rattled, and who handled stressful situations like a pro—but Gage also got the feeling that xVerity was lonely. He’d started the Single Dad Support Group for a reason, and Gage believed that it was because he had no one else he could talk to, whether it was about being a single father, or about life in general.
TeenDad2: I don’t know how valuable my advice would be. I lived in a super tiny apartment and owned almost nothing. Aaron stayed the night and helped me pack this morning. We donated or threw out a lot of my old stuff. The house we moved into was fully furnished, so we didn’t really have to worry about much. I kept my clothes, and all of Bo’s things, our old DVD player, and some of the food in my fridge, but the rest we pretty much got rid of. How far away are you moving?
xVerity: About a thousand miles, if it does happen.
TeenDad2: Jeez!
xVerity: I think it’ll be good for me. New life, new me, right? Nikki is going to be starting kindergarten next year, so if I do have to be transferred, I’d rather it happen before she starts to build her social life.
LoveHarley: Yeah, that sounds like a good idea. My advice for moving is: don’t. But if you have to, then downsize your belongings as much as you can so you don’t have to take so much stuff. If you know you’re going to be moving, start going through the rooms in your house one by one, maybe an hour a night, and chuck or donate the things you don’t need.
TeenDad2: haha sounds similar to what I just did
LoveHarley: It works!
“Daddy,” Bo croaked. He pushed the phone away from Gage, then climbed up on his chest so they were face to face.
Gage dropped his phone, forgetting the conversation. He wrapped his arms around Bo and looked up at him, hoping their nose to nose talk wouldn’t turn out like it had a few months ago, when Bo had climbed on top of him just like this and promptly sneezed all over his face. “What’s up, baby boy? Are you feeling okay?”
“No,” Bo said. His breath rattled in his lungs. “Wanna go home.”
“We are home, baby.” They’d only been in the new house for a few hours, but it was home now. “Your dad came back from being far away and brought us to live with him in his big house. This is home now.”
“No,” Bo said miserably. He pushed away from Gage’s face and tucked his head under Gage’s chin, pushing himself against Gage hard enough that Gage’s teeth clacked together. Throbbing pain coursed through Gage’s jaw and his eyes watered, but he held back from reacting. Instead, he carefully picked Bo up and settled him farther down his body, just a little, so he wasn’t head-butting Gage anymore. “I wanna gohome!”
Then, as if all hope was lost, Bo buried his face into Gage’s shirt and started to cry.
Gage wrapped his arms around his son and listened to his labored, painful wails. Guilt twisted through Gage anew, dragging down his spirits. “I know it’s hard when something in life changes, especially when it changes so suddenly, but everything we had where we used to live is here now. It’ll take a little time to get used to it, but I know you’re going to love it here. It’s so much bigger. You’ll have lots of space to grow up big and strong.”
“No,” Bo wailed, like it was the largest affront to his person he’d ever had to endure. “No!”
Up the stairs, along the split-level hallway that ran parallel to the length of the living room, a door closed. Aaron made his way down the hall, his phone pinched to his ear and a notebook and pen in his hands. He took the stairs slowly and stepped over the baby gate they’d set up at the bottom. Bo was too old for them, but he’d never lived in a house with stairs before, and the last thing he needed was a physical injury to compound his other health issues. Gage, who had a limited view of the stairs from where he lay, lost sight of him.
“All right. Perfect. Sounds great. Thank you. We’ll see you on Monday.” There was a click of a ballpoint pen and a rustle of paper as it was placed on a table. Footsteps bridged the space between the area near the stairs and where Gage and Bo were. Aaron folded his arms over the back of the couch and looked down at them, no longer on the phone. “What’s wrong, Bo?”
Bo froze, then started to cry more frantically. He tried to burrow into the space between Gage’s side and the back cushions of the couch, but Gage stopped him, lifting him up so he could pull himself into a seated position.
“I know that you’re upset that things are changing,” Gage told Bo, “but you need to give your dad a chance, okay?”
Trying to explain an unwelcome truth to a young, sick child was an exercise in futility. Bo struggled against Gage, thrashing and pulling like he was a wild animal caught in a trap, then, with a crackle of his lungs, he slouched forward and fell still. He struggled to draw breath, and Gage remembered all too well what Dr. Wilmot had told him earlier that week—make sure he takes it easy. No running around.
“You need to calm down, Bo,” Gage told him firmly. He held Bo to his chest, feeling each expansion of Bo’s ribs. “You need to take it easy.”
Bo whimpered. He was too short of breath to do anything but.
While he calmed down, Aaron came around the couch to stand behind Gage. He set a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Until Bo trusted him, there was little that Aaron could do but offer his support, but Gage appreciated it all the same. Just knowing Aaron was there made caring for Bo easier.
“I just got off the phone with the radiologist,” Aaron said softly. “We have an appointment on Monday. I managed to stack it with a visit to the phlebotomist for the blood draw. Do you want me to take the day off work so I can be there with you for it, or is it going to be better for Bo if you go alone?”
Gage stroked Bo’s hair, considering what would be the best course of action. His heart wanted Aaron there badly. After the appointment with Dr. Russo, Gage craved someone else to help take the pressure off. Having Aaron there would be a dream. But Bo, who was still terrified of Aaron, might not agree, and Bo’s comfort and security meant more to Gage than his own.
“I’ll call Mal and see if he can come help me with Bo that day,” Gage said after some time spent in thought. “You’re starting your new job tomorrow. You can’t take time off just yet.”
“I want to be there for you. For both of you.” Aaron’s hand squeezed, just slightly, and Gage leaned back against him. “If it’s something I need to do, then I’ll do it. Work will understand.”
