“What happened?” Veda’s dagger glare makes him concede, hands raised. “Fine. None of my business.”
“Glad you figured that out.” She sounds hollow, not hostile, fatigue thick in her voice. When Veda catches him staring, she thrusts the thermos into his hands and walks away. He doesn’t have a good grip and nearly drops the thermos, juggling and securing it, but not before having to use his hand to catch himself from falling into the fountain. It’s only as he grumbles about his soaked clothes that he realizes his onyx amulet ring must have slid off in the shuffle and is now at the bottom of the fountain.
“Fuck it.” He fishes out the ring and slides it back on.
Ready to leave, Hiram turns to find Gabriel with a wide-eyed miniature version of himself that’s missing a front tooth.
“How long have you been standing there?” Hiram asks.
“I’m clumsy, too!” the boy announces proudly.
“August,” Gabriel says gently, “remember what I said about filtering our words?”
The boy pauses, then shakes his head. “Nope.”
Gabriel closes his eyes briefly, clearly trying not to laugh. “I’ll remind you later. Now, say hi to Mr. Ellis.”
August beams, his smile impossibly bright. “Hi!”
Hiram’s awkward wave makes Gabriel smile. “This is my son, August. He’s in year two.”
Children weren’t in Hiram’s plan, but the more he meets, the more he realizes they are tiny, complicated humans with sticky hands and ever-fluctuating dispositions. One size doesn’t fit all. Their multifaceted capabilities are on display in August, who fist-bumps when Hiram offers his hand to shake formally. Gabriel flushes red from holding back laughter, but his kid’s grin is so wide, Hiram can see every tooth, and weirdly, this feels ...normal.
There’s a heaviness to Antaris that reminds Hiram of someone holding their breath, bracing for the world to crash on top of them. August couldn’t be more different, a bright, chatty bundle of energy.The shift is jarring enough for Hiram to wonder what might happen if Antaris felt comfortable enough to trust. To let his guard down. To believe Hiram is there for him.
“Mr. Ellis, do you have a kid who goes here?” August practically bounces with excitement.
“I do. My son, Antaris. He’s in year one.”
“Can he be my first friend? I don’t have any.” The light in August’s eyes dims briefly, then reignites. “But I’ll be agoodone. I know it. I’ll be the bestest friendever.”
Hiram and Gabriel exchange a look, one he oddly recognizes. They are parents of kids who don’t quite fit the typical mold. The opportunity for judgment is there, especially given August’s lack of filter, but Hiram doesn’t use it. August is hyperactive with barely combed hair and a stain from breakfast, but not bad.
I think he’s ready for a friend.
Hiram looks between them. Nothing beats failure but not trying. “We can arrange that.”
August cheers while relief blooms into a smile on Gabriel’s face. “Can you wait for a second while I check him in?”
“Yeah.”
Gabriel leads August inside, and less than five minutes later, he returns alone, face set. “Look, if you don’t want your kid to play with mine, say so now. I can distract him, and he’ll forget.”
Hiram frowns. “Why would I do that?”
“August gets too excited, which overwhelms the other kids, then he gets scared they won’t like him. He shuts down, and it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.”
“Antaris stopped talking after his mother was murdered. If he had friends in London, he’s now a continent away.”
Gabriel nods. “The socializing bar is in hell for us, isn’t it?”
“Lower.”
They laugh.
“Let’s schedule a playdate and see what happens,” Gabriel suggests.
“That might be good.”
