This was different. Jamie was different.
Who was Jamie to them?
Jamie, who had handed him a paper towel to wipe the bananafrom his face the very first time they’d met. Who had shown up with an injured hand and helped them move into their new place. Who looked at Tyler like he was trying to understand him.
“I hope so,” Tyler finally responded.
They’d been living in the attic apartment for four days, and Tyler had felt himself slowly relax into their new, improved space. It was quiet, spacious, and Rowan even had his own room. Tyler was able to cook without guarding their plates of food. If dishes piled up in the sink, he had no one to blame but himself.
He’d been worried the first time he left Rowan with Sandra and Dotty for his morning shift at the coffee shop. His eyes had burned when he’d left a crying and confused Rowan with the sweet women, and he’d almost called in sick to work.
But then, as he was walking through the back door of The Daily Grind, he’d gotten a text from Sandra.
Sandra:
He’s doing great. In case no one else tells you today, you’re a wonderful father.
She’d sent a picture of Rowan smiling as he played with blocks on the floor. The relief Tyler felt had made his knees weak. None of the parenting books he’d read in the months leading up to Rowan’s birth had prepared him for the overwhelming love and terror he felt on behalf of his son. And now, to know that Rowan was okay, that Tyler hadn’t completely broken him by leaving—thatwas priceless.
He thought about the community he’d hoped to find with his college friends. He never would have guessed that he’d find what he’d been looking for in two sweet, older women who had opened their lives to Tyler and Rowan. He knew he wouldn’t be able to rely on their generosity forever, but for the moment, it was saving him.
He still wasn’t sure what the hell he’d been thinking when he agreed to this–having dinner at the home of a professional hockey player. He probably had nothing in common with these people.But he wanted to meet more people with families. He wanted to give Rowan the chance to play with other kids.
And maybe there was something about Jamie that had compelled Tyler to say yes. Maybe it was the way his hazel-green eyes crinkled in the corners when he smiled.
“This’ll be fun,” Tyler said, glancing back at Rowan in the rearview mirror. His son was fully occupied with Bunny, making the sloth's arms wag from side to side as he sang quietly under his breath.
The words were as much for himself as they were for Rowan.
As he pulled into the long driveway of the Radio Park home, Tyler realized he wasnervous. With the exception of surface-level conversations with other parents at the park, this would be his and Rowan’s first time socializing with another family.
Tyler would be fine. He always was. But Rowan?Fuck,he wanted it to go well for him.
Tyler parked beside a newer pickup truck, and made quick work of getting Rowan unstrapped from his carseat, Bunny held tightly in his little arms. He made sure Rowan’s wool beanie covered his ears, grabbed the backpack full of toddler emergency supplies he took everywhere now, and carefully walked up the sanded walk to the front door.
The house was big–an older home with deep green siding offset by a stone wall. Tall windows shone golden in the evening light, and he could make out the shapes of well-manicured shrubs along the far side of the snow-covered lawn.
Damn, hockey players must make good money.
Tyler felt Rowan’s hand tighten on the collar of the thick wool sweater he’d spent way too much time picking out. He wanted something nice that wouldn’t sacrifice his personal style, pairing the sweater with jeans, a single stone pendant necklace, and three silver rings.
“Stay close, Papa?”
He kissed Rowan’s cold cheek, a fullness in his chest as heinhaled the soft scent of the mild, herbal soap he used to wash Rowan’s brown curls. “Always, kiddo.”
They’d barely reached the front stoop when the door opened, revealing a tall blonde woman with pale pink cheeks, wearing a fuzzy white sweater and wide-legged jeans.
“Hey! Tyler and Rowan, right?” Her voice was warm, a perfect compliment to her girl-next-door beauty. “I’m Layla, Mitch’s wife. Come on in and let’s get those coats off.”
Tyler didn’t get a chance to take in the entryway beyond the golden light and the comfortable warmth of the air around them. Wordlessly, he let Layla take his battered, yellow down coat. She gave them space while Tyler crouched down to help Rowan out of his coat and hat, like she instinctively knew a little kid in a new place would need some time to adjust.
Rowan let Tyler tug off his snow boots, clinging to Tyler’s faded jeans as he nudged off his Doc Martens. Carefully, Tyler lined their shoes up with the haphazard row of others in varying sizes.
“Can I get either of you something to drink? Dinner is ready, so as soon as the kids get washed up we can sit down. Mitch,” she called out as they followed her into the modern, high-ceilinged kitchen. Rowan held tightly to Tyler’s hand, his other arm holding Bunny against his chest. “They’re here!”
Footsteps thundered below them, and grew louder. “Slow down, you wildebeests," a deep male voice shouted. A chorus of giggles filtered up in response.
A door on the other side of the room slammed open and three kids skidded to a stop next to Layla. The smallest reached her arms up, and Layla swooped her into her arms, settling her on one of her slender hips. “This is Tyler and his kiddo, Rowan. Can you all say hello?”
