“Daddy!” Emily suddenly yells, coming to stand in front of me, looking up at Calvin and Braeden. “Hi!” She always has to know everything that’s going on.
“Hey there,” my neighbor says, giving her an awkward wave. Jesus. I want to roll my eyes, but they stay planted on my guests.
Emily, being Emily, grabs Braeden’s hand and tugs him away. “Come. Watch ‘Supa Why’ on my tabwet.”
Braeden looks desperately at Calvin, who nods at him. The boy lets my daughter drag him to watch her favorite show on her tablet. She’s the boldest and most outgoing of all my children. She loves other kids and will make them her best friends whether they want to be or not.
Calvin’s shoulders deflate, and he rubs his face. “Thanks.”
I’ve never seen him as anything other than arrogant, so this humbling show he’s putting on confuses me.
“Uhm, sure. Come on in. Want something to drink?”
He laughs self-deprecatingly. “Gotta full bottle of vodka?”
“Non-alcoholic.”
“I’m fine.”
Since he’s clearly stressed, I relent. “I actually have some white wine if you want some.”
“My favorite. That’d be great, thanks.”
We step into the kitchen, and he heads straight to my stove, where I have cheese sauce simmering. The mac ’n‘ cheese is almost ready for the oven. He lifts the lid and peeks inside. “Smells good.”
I’m not about to invite him over for dinner if that’s what he’s hinting at. “Have a seat,” I tell him as I pour us both a glass of chilled wine.
Calvin sits at the kitchen table and gulps half the glass. He then stares at his drink, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles. He appears casual, but his face is tense, and the V between his brows is pronounced.
“What can I do for you, Calvin?”
“Cal. You can call me Cal.”
I say nothing, waiting him out as I also take a sip of wine.
“I need your help with Braeden.”
“What do you need help with exactly?”
“I’m the winner of a grieving teenage boy. Yay me.”
“Don’t be a butthead.”
He downs the rest of his wine, so I stand to pour him another.
“I’m not trying to be,” he says. “I tend to use humor when I’m stressed out. Well, I always do, but more so when I’m stressed, which is pretty much always. It’s either that or scream into the void. I’d rather laugh at myself.”
I tip the wine bottle into the glass and fill it. His honesty surprises me. “That’s rather vulnerable. I wasn’t expecting that.”
“To be fair, we don’t really know each other. I should probably remedy that.”
I set the half-finished bottle down on the table and relax at his words. “I guess I’m guilty of that, too.” I sigh and look back into the living room, where my boys are playing a game, and Braeden is just sitting there watching a video with Emily.
“I swear that’s the calmest I’ve ever seen your daughter,” he chuckles.
I ignore him and say, “What exactly do you need help with,Daddy?”
He laughs despite himself. “I deserve that.”
