We’ve barely satdown at the restaurant before Angelos points at my chest. “Dude… you’re wearing a City shirt?”
I glance down at it, as if I’ve forgotten. “Looks that way.”
His brows pull together. “I thought you were a United fan.”
“Damn it… Must have bought the wrong one. I meant to get the City one for you and the United one for me.” I hand him a wrapped present with a smirk on my face.
He assesses me with excitement dancing in his eyes, but a hint of wariness at the same time.
“Open it. If it suits you, I’ll take you to a game.”
“Bruh, no way did you get me a—” The blue fabric comes into view as the strips of torn paper fall to the floor. “The new City shirt,” he shouts.
I can’t contain my smile and the warmth that spreads around my body.
“Mum, look. I can’t believe you got me the new shirt. Thanks Dan.”
“Well, I couldn’t have you going to the game in an old one, could I?”
He looks up between me and Rose. “The friendly tonight?”
“Yeah.” I check my watch. “You have about sixty minutes to eat before the game starts.”
“Mum, can you believe it? We’re going to watch City play.”
“It was your mum’s idea. I just got the tickets.”
He throws his arms around Rose. “Thanks Mum.”
My heart stutters. I suppose this is the joy of being a dad when brief moments like this make up for all the other stuff.
Rose kisses the top of his head and catches my eye with a sympathetic smile, then she says quietly, but just enough for me to hear, “Why don’t you give Dan a hug to say thank you? He’s gone to a lot of trouble to get tickets for tonight.”
Angelos nods. And turns to me. “Thanks, bro.” His wiry arms wrap around my shoulder and he pats my back.
I let out a chuckle as I give him the same awkward hug back, when all I want to do is wrap him up in my arms like Rose did. All in good time. Small steps, I remind myself as I smile at Rose and she reaches a hand on the curved back rest in the circular booth we’re sitting in. I do the same, my arm resting behind Angelos, my fingers touching hers, causing electricity to zing around my limbs.
Angelos pulls back from the hug, still grinning as he looks down at the shirt in his hands. “Can I put it on now?”
Rose gives him a pointed look. “After you’ve eaten.”
As if summoned by magic, a waiter appears with a tray full of steaming pizzas and bowls of fries. The smell of melted cheese and garlic fills the air.
“Yes!” Angelos practically snatches a slice before the plates even touch the table.
“Slow down,” Rose says, handing him a napkin.
“Can’t. I don’t want to miss kickoff.”
I hand Rose a slice of pepperoni. “Is this parenting? Negotiating with a hungry thirteen-year-old and losing every time?”
“Every single day.” She meets my eyes with the smallest smile. “Welcome to the club.” She reaches for the pepper and passes it to me on instinct.
Our fingers touch again, a surge of electricity zapping through me, knowing she remembered I have pepper on my pizza. Our eyes lock and we share a knowing look. A familiarity and bond that time or distance cannot break.
Ketchup drips down Angelos’ chin and Rose wipes it for him.
“Mum.” He takes the napkin from her. “Want to wipe my bum while you’re at it?” He gives her a goofy grin and shoves more pizza into his mouth.
