The kid’s hand gripped him tightly. “This is the best day ever. Dad, look!”
A man, who shared his son’s dark, feathery hair and round cheeks, approached and gave Jamie a grateful smile. “Danny, you might want to let go of Sully’s hand. Don’t want him hurting that one too!”
Jamie winced. The man paled a little. “Sorry,” he whispered. “That was…”
“It’s all good,” Jamie said, putting his smile back into place. He turned his attention to the kid, who’d let go of his hand and still stared at him like he wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or not. “Now, Danny, what do you say I sign that hat for you?”
Danny’s mouth dropped open. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” This time, he didn’t have to force his smile.
Jamie fished out the permanent marker he kept in his back pocket, doing his best to hide the discomfort in his hand as he signed the brim of the kid’s hat and got the dad’s email address so he could send them some free tickets later in the season.
Rowan, who’d been quietly standing with his hand in Tyler’s, chose that moment to chime in. “Did you know Jamie is my friend?”
Be still my fucking heart.
Danny looked impressed. “That is so cool, man,” he said to Rowan with the kind of sincerity that probably meant he was used to hanging out with little kids. “He’s my favorite hockey player in the whole world.”
“Mine too,” Rowan replied.
“Okay, Danny, let’s let Sully enjoy his day at the museum,” the dad said, extending a hand for Jamie to shake. “I really appreciate it,” he said softly. “And we’re rooting for you. The whole city’s rooting for you.”
Emotion filled his chest. “Thanks, man,” Jamie’s voice came out raspy and rough.
He watched the father and son walk towards the door. It was one of hundreds of interactions Jamie’d had with fans around Madison. Outside the arena, at the Children’s Hospital where the team visited and volunteered, when he went to get his oil changed, or when he went to escape the midseason cold at Olbrich Gardens.
“Jamie, have you seen the snake road?” Rowan grabbed onto his hand, tugging his fingers toward the staircase. “There’s a secret entrance behind the grandmother tree. Lemme show you.”
With one last look at Tyler, Jamie turned to follow Rowan. He knew they needed to talk. He wanted to apologize and he was still frustrated by Tyler’s silence and lack of response. But right at that moment, Tyler was here with Rowan, and the best thing he could do was be there, in the present, with both of them.
The next half hour flew by. Jamie had crawled on hands and knees through a handmade replica of a pond with a ceiling of lily pads, had “eaten” a pizza Rowan had made in the play-kitchen, had collected yellow yarn balls of “pollen” from throughout the building while pretending to be a bumblebee, and had finally collapsed on the cushioned floor of a hollow tree beside Tyler.
Jamie was sweating.
“You and Papa need to rest,” Rowan informed Jamie and Tyler, hands perched on his hips. “You’re babies. I’m going to get you lunch from the garden.” With those parting words he marched out of the tree.
Damn, that kid was adorable. “Do we need to follow him?” Jamie asked between heavy breaths.
“There’s a pretend garden right outside. He’ll be fine.”
“Cool.” He looked at Tyler, at his angular shoulders, sharp elbows resting on his knees. At his long fingers and the ink etched upon his skin. “The game last night,” Jamie started. “I’m sorry if I put you in a tough position. I wasn’t thinking about how late it was for Rowan or how loud it is in the lower bowl.”
“Oh,” Tyler reached up, pushing his waves back from his face. “Yeah, that wasn’t ideal. But I also didn’t say anything, so that’s on me.”
Jamie shifted his legs, crossing them in front of him. “Why didn’t you?”
“Say anything?” Jamie nodded and Tyler was quiet for a moment. “You did a nice thing for us. You’ve done so much–getting us in touch with Dotty and Sandra, helping with the move. I don’t know, I didn’t want to seem ungrateful.”
“That’s–” Jamie cut himself off, smoothing a hand over his mustache. “You’ve got Rowan. That’s a huge job, Tyler. I won’t ever think you’re being rude if you tell me something doesn’t work for the two of you.”
Tyler’s gaze sharpened, his mouth turning down at the corners. “You’re talking like…” He trailed off. Tyler stared at him. Even in the dim light of the hollow tree, Jamie could make out the crooked angle of one of his incisors, and the chapped texture on his full lower lip.
Jamie didn’t look away. “Like what?”
“Like you want to stick around.”
Jamie couldn’t lie. Not then. Not with Tyler right there in front of him, not with his walls still fully in place. “I would,” he finally said. “I’d stick around.”
