“Nate,” Caymen greeted, giving my father one of those manly handshake back-pat hugs. “Thanks for coming.”
“Gotta show up for the family,” he said, and I could see how much those words meant to Caymen.
He’d already given Caymen his birthday gift the last time we had dinner. He bought tickets so, I kid you not, the two of them could go to a boat show.
It was as my father was walking away to get a drink when Sam’s truck pulled in behind my father’s.
Caymen was distracted, watching a group of the kids squeal as they ran around with water guns full of food-dyed water, playing their mother’s less messy version of paintball.
So it wasn’t until Sam was a few feet away that Caymen turned and saw him.
Sam stopped walking, just stood there with one hand holding a bag of cheese puffs (the crunchy kind I knew were Caymen’s favorite) and sour gummy candies (also a favorite).
“Happy birthday, son.”
Caymen’s face went slack for a moment before a look that was almost pained crossed his face. I would never tell anyone else, but I was pretty sure there was some wetness gathered in his eyes at that greeting.
Caymen closed the space between them, gathering up his old foster father in a real hug. Sam’s hands went around Caymen too and I didn’t even try to fight away the tears that flooded and poured down.
They broke apart, and Sam held up the treats. “These used to be your favorite.”
“They still are.”
“Had a feeling.”
“Sam?” Dixon’s voice called, making everyone turn to see him standing there, a beer half-raised to his mouth.
“You old enough for that yet, son?” Sam asked.
Dixon’s greeting was just as heartwarming.
And when they broke apart, Sam reached into his pocket. “I know it’s your brother’s birthday, but since I missed yours…” He pulled out a yo-yo—the clear kind with the lights. Dixon, a full-grown adult, freaking beamed.
I knew from a drunken story one night by the pool that Sam had been the one to teach Dixon how to do all the tricks with a yo-yo.
This man was an angel walking among mere humans.
“Baby…” Caymen said, making me jerk to find him right beside me. As soon as he had my attention, he leaned down to press his forehead to mine. “Thank you.”
My heart was going to burst.
“Caymen, man, hate to ask you on your birthday,” Eddie called. He didn’t. We’d discussed this very moment before Caymen woke up. “But can you watch the grill for a minute?” I wanted a way for Sam and Caymen to have something to do in case things felt awkward at first.
“Come on,” Sam said, slapping a hand to one of Caymen’s shoulders. “Let’s see what you’ve learned over the years.”
Dixon moved over toward me, watching the men walk away.
“I know this was for Caymen, but thanks for this too,” Dixon said, absentmindedly dropping the yo-yo and flicking it back up. “Don’t think either of us knew how much we needed to see him until he showed up.”
I wrapped an arm around Dixon, pulling him in for a sideways hug.
“I always want the best for the both of you.”
And I did.
Caymen was the love of my life.
But Dixon had quickly become the little brother I’d never had. Even at his big age, he totally tagged along with us; he teased me just as much as he teased his brother; and we even argued the way siblings do.
