“But, Daddy,” he says, bottom lip jutting out slightly, “I can’t spend all week sitting on the sofa like a big lump.”
To be fair, I do understand that. He’s a boy with an abundance of energy, and he needs to burn some of it off, but there’s no way in hell I’m letting him go to the gym. Knowing him, he’d probably try to do weight training. He’d probably rip his stitches within minutes of getting there. The risk of infection at the gym is probably off the charts. There’s no way I can allow it.
“How about I take you for a walk.” A bit of fresh air will do him good. It might distract him a little. Boys need a little distraction now and again. It’s good for them. Helps clear their minds. “Come on, let’s go. Sadie! Walkies!”
He’s a bit huffy, but not so much that I feel I need to call him out on it. It’s not that I’m being soft on him. It’s just that he’s been through a lot this week. He took a hell of a tumble. My heart nearly dropped out of my body as I stood there watching him lose his balance. It was one of those times where everything happened as if in slow motion, but my body was in real time, and I couldn’t move fast enough to do anything to help him. I still feel sick when I think of the hollow clank his elbow made when it connected with the wall.
I thought he’d hit his head. For a second, I thought he’d hurt himself badly.
It scared me.
It scared me how much it scared me.
I take his hand in mine as we head down the drive, lacing my fingers between his and squeezing firmly. His head dips and he looks away, but not fast enough. I see the sweet smile that creeps up his face.
“You know what I’ve been thinking,” I say. “I’ve been thinking it might be nice to have your friends over for dinner on Friday. We can have an Indian night. We can make that butter chicken again, and maybe some lamb Rogan Josh. That always goes down well. What do you think?”
“Really?” His voice lilts happily. “You’d be cool with that?”
“Of course, I would. I’d love to meet everyone.” He’s spoken about his friends so much since he got here that I almost feel like I know them. “It’s your home too, and your friends are always welcome.”
24
Elliot
Idon’tthinkStuartexpected me to invite quite so many people. He’s made an extra batch of rice, and he keeps looking at the naan bread with a perturbed expression. He seems a little agitated about the fact we don’t have enough placemats for everyone.
“We can use the redandthe blue ones,” I suggest. “We can alternate them, Daddy. One red, then one blue. It will look great.”
He looks at me as if I’ve stopped global warming in its tracks. “Elliot! That’s a damn good idea!”
The food is ready, and everything looks amazing and smells even better. I glance over at the drink cart. The only thing I think isn’t quite perfect. “Are you sure we have enough booze?”
It’s not the first time I’ve asked, so he sighs, “Yes, Elliot. The fridge is fully stocked with beer. We also have plenty of wine. We’ll be fine. And remember, this isn’t a kegger. It’s a nice, civilized dinner.”
Spoken like someone who hasn’t met my friends.
I feel fine as we set up, slightly giddy but nothing too serious. I’ve pretty much been giddy since the second he threatened to cane me, so it’s nothing new. I’m getting used to it. Giddy and nauseous. I think it’s normal. You know, perfectly normal for those times you’re looking forward to something you’re dreading. Something you’re scared of. Something you want even though you know damn well it’s going to be a disaster.
I feel fine when we head upstairs to get ready. I go to my room, and he goes to his. It’s not until I’m in the shower that shit starts raining down all around me. My heart feels too big for my chest. The steam starts making it hard for me to get a good breath. Everything comes at me too close and too fast.
What was I thinking inviting the guys to Stuart’s?
How the hell am I supposed to behave around themandbe around Stuart at the same time. I’m a totally different person when I’m with Stuart. I can’t have my two parallel worlds converging in the same place at the same time.
Jesus.
What the fuck am I supposed to do now?
By the time I get out of the shower, I’m in full panic mode. The end of the world is nigh. Nothing will ever be fine again. I’ve all but convinced myself that this dinner is going to torch my social life and end things with Stuart permanently too. I pace around my room, wearing nothing but a towel around my waist. I walk in a big circle around the bed and then several quick, straight ones up and down the length of the room.
I know I should be getting dressed, but I can’t decide what to wear. I hate every single thing I own. Want to throw it all out in the backyard and set it on fire.
I pace up and down again, and then I pace all the way out of my room, down the hall, and pound on Stuart’s door.
He opens quickly, hair wet and slicked back, wearing jeans and a white undershirt. I’m momentarily dumbstruck. Believe me, it’s a look in and of itself. I can’t believe he thinks it’s okay for him to answer the door dressed like this. Can’t fucking believe it. Now I have to deal with a major dick problem on top of everything else.
He takes one look at me and says, “Elliot, what’s wrong?”
