4
THORNE
Taking a job with the hockey team without checking the roster had been a huge lapse in judgment on my part. I’d assumed it didn’t matter who was on the team. As long as someone fed them, they were happy. Hockey wasn’t something that had ever taken up any portion of my life before this, so who cared if they were good, bad, or mediocre? Who cared if they had famous players everyone fanboyed over? Except I should have cared because, apparently, the roster had Bodie’s fucking brother.
I’d always known he had a twin. Harvey loved that he did, and the second he heard about him, his imagination went wild. He went on and on about how it would be cool if we both married one twin, and then we could be both brothers and brothers-in-law. In his idealistic vision of the future, he saw the two of us living in houses side by side, raising our kids together.
That was before he discovered he was one of many people Bodie was having a good time with. My brother had forgiven him time and time again for sticking his dick in everyone. He’d taken him back more times than I could count. Harvey believed Bodie’s pretty words when he said that the others weren’t as special.
I’d been so livid at my brother for accepting being “special” over being the one and only, but nothing I said to him got through. He loved the piece of crap. His baby being threatened finally motivated him to leave the jerk and never look back.
When I first saw Raff, I thought it was Bodie. Google was notorious for being wrong. Maybe he wasn’t dead after all. Only the man standing there didn’t have the scar on his chin; his twin did. It was the only tell, and I imagined most people missed it. Heck, the only reason I saw it was because I stared at a picture of my brother and Bodie for an entire day when I heard what he’d done to Harvey, trying to figure out a way to make him pay.
Standing there looking into the eyes of his lookalike had been draining, like one glance and my life force was being sucked away, every ounce of my energy being used to keep up the facade of being a chef doing my job and not one about ready to puke or scream or slap someone or run away.
I couldn’t wait for the interaction to be over, for my shift to be over, for me to be out of there, sucking in fresh air and figuring out what to do next. Seeing Raff’s face brought back all the anger I felt when my brother showed up, sobbing, asking me what to do, begging me, pleading with me for help, terrified that he wouldn’t be able to keep his baby. But it also reminded me that while Rupert was currently with me, he had another family, a family that could fight for him if they discovered he existed, and that scared me.
I didn’t know what to do with the new knowledge thrust upon me. The logical part of me said that if Bodie’s family knew about Rupert or his biological father, it would be fine. I couldn’t listen to that part. The fear, the anger, the anxiety—it was taking over.
It got to the point where I was messing up basic prep work and having people ask me the same question three times before it registered they were speaking to me. Making it through the shift wasn’t happening. I pretended I had a call from the school and left early. I’d deal with the fallout later. Maybe make the kitchen and dining staff something special to eat, or let them leave early and do the final cleaning of that day for them. I didn’t know what, but that would have to wait. I needed to see that Rupert was safe, that no one had taken him. There was nothing rational about the fear that Raff had seen me, put the puzzle together, and gone to his school to get him instead of finishing the day’s training. That didn’t stop my brain from going there.
I parked at home and walked to the school. Their parking lot was chaos an hour before school let out with all the parents lining up to be sure to get their child first. I marched into the office, and the teacher at the copy machine glared at me.
“I’m so sorry. I forgot we had an appointment today.” Please don’t let them ask me what the appointment was. My excuse was weak, and it wouldn’t take much to see through it.
“You know we don’t let people check their children out this late in the day,” the school secretary said.
I had not known that, but it was not a time to announce my ignorance.
“I know, I’m so sorry. May I have an exception, just this once?”
The secretary walked up to the counter and put her hand on mine. “Yes,” she whispered, “but we can’t make a habit of this. I know all this father thing is new to you.”
At least she was nicer than the teacher who was still side-eyeing me. What was their problem? It wasn’t like I was disturbing their class.
“It really is.” I signed the log. She called for him to be dismissed.
Rupert ran into the office and hugged me. His backpack was so oversized it looked ridiculous on him. That was what I got for ordering online and not checking dimensions.
“Teacher says I have a papointment.”
“You have an appointment.” It was hard for me to correct him, even as subtly as I tried. My brother had words he never got right, too. I kind of missed that about him. That wasn’t true, I missed everything about him and seeing his son have similar traits was like a piece of him was still here.
He grabbed my hand. “Let’s go to my appointment!” And just like that, another one of his cutenesses was gone. And that was okay, as long as I kept them inside and remembered them. My dad suggested I get a journal, and after today, I was beginning to think that might be a good idea after all.
We walked home to our new townhouse. Ours, as in we were renting it. I was in no position to buy a home. This place was an enormous step up from what I’d had, and despite being dated, it worked.
“Where’s my appointment?” He plopped his backpack on the bench by the door.
“The appointment is at Uncle’s old diner.” I needed to talk to Junior.
“That’s not an appointment.” He formed a little fist on his left hip. Another thing he’d picked up from my brother. Harveyshowed annoyance with one fist, but he was pissed when he put a fist on each hip.
“I got out of work early, and I thought we both needed pie.”
“My teacher won’t like that.” He was such a little rule follower in school. That hadn’t been me at his age. Not even close.
“And that’s why Uncle said ‘appointment.’”
