Colton shoots me a look, and I nod.
“Hell yeah,” Colton says. “We’ll wait for you.”
“What’d ya think?” he asks Sadie, pulling her in for a hug.
“Ew. You’re sweaty.”
Nash laughs. “I’m awesome, right?”
“The best.” She grins.
“Obviously,” he teases, then says, “See you guys in a bit.”
We hang out, talking about the game and waiting for Nash. He comes out about thirty minutes later with the same guys I’ve seen him with before. They say goodbye, and then Nash jogs over to us.
I’ve never heard him talk so much, never had him string together as many words as he does on the drive home, clearly still buzzing from the game. The car is loud, full of voices and excitement in this way I used to watch on TV shows as a kid—when the whole family was together, everyone talking at once, and it was so foreign to me. I never had that, never even seen it in real life, but I’m living it now.
When we get home, Nash and Sadie sit at the kitchen counter, doing homework and chatting with us while Colton and I make nachos. We had dinner before the game, but Nash is already starving again, and I must admit, I could eat too.
“I’m fucking beat—I mean, beat,” Nash says. “I’m going to bed early.”
I stare for a moment, speechless because…did he just correct his language? I don’t make a big deal out of it, afraid if I do, he won’t try again, and say, “You had a long day.”
“Night, James,” he says to me. “Night, Colton,” he adds, and they fist-bump.
“I’m gonna go to bed too,” Sadie says, hugging me and waving to Colton before they both disappear down the hallway, leaving us alone.
“They should have their own rooms,” I say.
“Yes.” He tugs me closer, and I go easily, letting Colton pull me into his arms, knowing we’re out of sight and I’ll hear the kids if they come out of their room. “Why don’t you want to move to the house with them? There’s tons of space.”
I sigh, then pull away and head over to sit on the couch. Colton comes with me, sitting close, and for the first time, I allow myself to cuddle with him here. He wraps an armaround me, dancing his fingers through my hair and waiting for me to speak. “That makes it feel real,” I admit.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know…just…when you picture a family, that’s what it is—two parents, kids, a house, maybe a basketball hoop in the driveway and barbecues in the backyard. It’s the dream, what a lot of people strive for, and I guess I don’t know if I’m worthy of that.”
“Jesus, baby. You are. You’re worthy of that and more, but…do you think you’re any less of a real family here?”
“I don’t. That’s the confusing part. Not everyone lives in a house with a picket fence. It’s hard to explain. When I was a kid, I would look at people like that and think their lives must be perfect. I know that’s not true, but that’s what books told me, and TV shows. And I guess I’m afraid to trust this can last, that it will work. Like if I move them there, change our lives in that way, then suddenly the universe will be like,Nope. You don’t get this. You don’t get to be happy.And I’ll lose it all. If I don’t change anything, if I don’t believe it’s real, it’ll hurt less when it’s gone.”
Hell, I told Sadie I’d take her to a therapist; maybe I should consider one for myself.
“Look at me,” he says, and when I don’t listen, he swats my ass. “I told you to look at me.”
I immediately sink into the role that feels so fucking comfortable to me. “Yes, Sir.” I pull away, unbury myself from his arm so I can face him.
“That’s not how this works. I know it’s scary. I know you’ve lost a lot, but you can’t keep yourself from ever changing things, from moving forward, because you’re afraid that gives you more to lose. Certainly not when we’re talking about a house.”
It’s strange how I can know he’s right yet struggle with it. “I’m trying.”
He pulls me to him, and though I shouldn’t, I straddle his lap, facing him. “That’s because you’re my good boy.” He cups my cheek. “Why don’t you start by looking into what it would mean for the kids and school first. Is it the same district?”
“I’m not sure. I don’t want them to have to change schools.” Not after everything they’ve already been through.
“Okay. Would that be their base school? Would you have to get a transfer? How easy is it to get a transfer? If you can get one, that means you probably have to be the one to take them back and forth to school, if you’re not zoned properly for the bus, so we’d have to figure that out too. Once we have all those answers, it’ll be easier to make that decision.”
“We?” I heard everything he said, but it’s impossible not to focus on that word.
