The scent of homemade soup wafted through the door as I entered. Billy was in the kitchen, and Henry was tucked on the couch, bundled in blankets.
“Hey, buddy. I heard you’re not feeling so good today.” I brushed the damp hair away from Henry’s face and kissed his forehead. He was still burning up. I turned to Billy. “When’s the last time he had medicine?”
“About an hour ago. It’s not doing much, but Mom said it should keep his fever from going even higher.”
My heart melted at his admission he’d called his mom to ease his own concerns. After Danny and I broke up, there had been a time when Billy didn’t even tell his family he was still hanging out with me. He’d been there through those early days and excruciatingly long nights with Henry, assuring me his family would forgive me someday. And they did, but they’d never forget how I’d hurt the youngest.
“She said I should run to pick up some ibuprofen when you got home so we could start alternating between the two.”
“There should be some—” No, there wasn’t a bottle in the medicine cabinet. I threw out the expired bottle and hadn’t replaced it yet, because Henry so rarely needed it.
“Daddy, can I watch morePaw Patrol?” Henry coughed weakly and pulled the covers tighter under his chin. The fact he was laying still and asking for more TV concerned me.
“Sure, buddy, whatever you need.” The opening sequence hadn’t even finished before he was softly snoring. As much as I wanted to cuddle with him, I knew I needed to take the opportunity to eat something first.
“Rough day?” Billy asked as he followed me into the kitchen.
“You could say that.” I rolled my head from one side to the other, trying to ease the tension in my neck. Billy stepped up behind me and started massaging my shoulders. I moaned as his thumbs dug into the boulders of muscle. He didn’t relent until the knots released.
The way he touched me so freely, without any of the toxic masculinity bullshit that said friends didn’t give one another massages, had my thoughts spinning back to earlier, once again imagining a life where Billy was my other half.
But that was stupid because even if I was willing to risk a lifelong friendship, Billy and I weren’t compatible. Both of us needed to be in control. We’d kill one another. A quiet voice in the back of my mind challenged that objection, filling my head with desires I never acknowledged.
Over soup, I confided in Billy about the meeting and Mayor Thompson’s not-so-subtle jabs. As we talked, his presence worked like magic. His easy smile, the heartiness of the soup, and the soft hum of the refrigerator in the cozy kitchen began to unwind the tight coil of tension within me.
My eyes darted over to Henry, who was curled up in a sea of blankets. He looked weak, and my heart twinged.
“How has he been this afternoon?” I finally asked, nodding toward Henry.
“He’s been sleepy and a little fussy, but I got him to eat some crackers earlier. Mom says he just needs rest and lots of fluids,” Billy said, concern lining his eyes.
I sighed and took a sip of the soup, which was warm and savory. “I wish I could have been here for him,” I murmured, guilt seeping into my voice.
Billy reached over and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “You're doing your best, Michael. That’s what matters. And you’ve got friends to lean on. Don’t forget that.”
I looked at him, feeling a wave of gratitude for this man who had always been there for me and now for Henry.
The rest of the evening was spent caring for Henry, with Billy staying until it was time to put him to bed. As Billy got ready to leave, he turned to me and said, “Call me if you need anything, okay? Even if it’s in the middle of the night. Even if you just need to tap out for a bit and let me take care of him.”
I nodded and clapped him on the back. “Thank you, Billy. Seriously.”
After he left, the house was quiet except for the soft snores coming from Henry’s room. I took a moment to look at the picture on the mantle of my family. It was a rare picture where my sister was sober, and she was holding a baby Henry. I was there too, my arm around her. That moment had been one of the most conflicted in my life. I’d been overcome with joy seeing a glimpse of the little girl I’d grown up with holding her son, and that led to selfish terror that she’d want him back. I’d have done whatever was best for Henry, but it hadn’t taken long before she fell back into old habits and the point had become moot.
I shuddered when I thought about how today would’ve gone for my boy if he’d been with her. Would she have been in a place where she could take care of him? Would he have been comfortable and safe? God, I wanted to hate her for the choices she’d made. I felt a tear slip down my cheek. I wiped it away and made myself a promise. I promised to do right by Henry, to be there for him in all the ways my sister couldn’t be.
The third morning after Billy picked him up, Henry finally seemed to be feeling a little better. Little Mr. Independent apparently had enough of laying around doing nothing. He’d not only gotten up before me but grabbed his own breakfast, too. As long as he wasn’t running a fever, he’d be good to go back to daycare tomorrow.
“I wuv you, Daddy,” he said through a mouthful of cereal. “Is it okay that I made my cereal on my own?”
“Of course it is. I’m happy to see you’re up and about.” My heart swelled. “I love you, buddy,” I said, kissing the top of his head. “You finish eating, and I’m going to call work really quick.”
I wasn’t looking forward to the nasty email I was bound to get from Mayor Thompson for missing another day because of a sick kid but email would be far better than hearing him mutter under his breath about how this was why kids should be in two-parent households. Because, you know, being the father I’dneverbe the one expected to stay home with a sick kid. The misogynistic prick needed to be taken down a few pegs.
“Is Uncle Billy going to stay with me again today?” Milk dribbled down Henry’s chin. I handed him a napkin.
“No, buddy. He has to work at Harmony House today.”
Henry’s bottom lip jutted out, and I prayed we weren’t about to go into meltdown mode. Truth be told, Henry’s disappointment mirrored my own. Billy had been a constant source of comfort these past few days, not just for Henry, but for me as well.
