Page 31 of Beg Me

“Gus … enough,” I say, motioning toward the papers. “Sit down and get back to work.”

He plops down into his chair. “I don’t understand. You can tell me to sit and to get to work, but I can’t work if I don’t know how.”

“Yes, you do,” I say, my jaw growing tight. “Start with two. Start with nine, if you want. Just start somewhere and if that doesn’t work, go to the next number.”

“But how do I know what number to start with? Or is this a wild goose chase?”

I narrow my gaze. “Pick a number, Gus.”

“That’s not how this works.”

“Whoa,” Markie says, laughing. “You,” she says, pointing at me, “aren’t helping.”

Gus beams at her. “Thanks, buddy.”

“And you,” she says, shaking her head. “You aren’t trying.”

“How do you know?” Gus asks, lifting a brow.

“Because I’ve seen you in action. You’re a smart kid.” She leans over his shoulder. “Let me see the problem.”

I throw up my hands as the oven timer goes off. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

“Simplify eighteen twenty-fourths,” Markie says as I take the bread out of the oven. “You can do this.” She flips the paper upside down. “Forget the fraction for a second. Draw me a cheese pizza instead.”

I glance at her over my shoulder, but she’s focused on my son. The sight of them together pulls at my chest. It’s such an ordinary moment, one that families have all over the world in the evening … and that’s exactly why it’s so extraordinary.

Rugby has been my entire life, and I hadn’t given a ton of thought to what I wanted for myself after I retired. Then Gus came into my life. But I’m still getting used to that—still trying to wrap my head around what my world looks like in another year. I haven’t even gotten around to imagining him at the table with a woman while dinner’s being served.

It’s a mindfuck for sure.

“Have you had dinner?” I ask.

“What?” She looks up, her doe eyes wide. “Me? No. I’ve been playing pickleball.”

“Hungry?”

Gus bumps her with his shoulder. “Please, say yes. Don’t leave me here alone with him and fractions.”

A laugh topples from her lips. “I don’t want to intrude.”

“Grab a seat, and I’ll fix you a plate,” I say. “I’ll even make dessert if you can figure out how to get him to understand this shit.”

Her cheeks flush as her amusement softens. “Okay, I guess. If you’re sure.”

“I’m sure,” Gus says. “And of course, he’s sure. You’re hot.”

“Gus!” I say, giving him a look to behave.

Markie doesn’t make eye contact with me as she sits beside my kid.

I make three plates and pour three glasses of water as they get to work behind me. I take my time getting it all to the table because there’s no sense in rushing things.

“Let’s look at your pizza,” she says, moving the paper so they can both see it.

“I added pepperoni,” Gus says, grinning.

She returns his smile. “What we’re trying to do is to find other fractions that mean the same thing. Do you understand that?”