“Mm… I have an interest.”
Pat let out a sigh and looked wistfully at his coffee, and then cocked his head toward the morning chaos, which seemed to have moved on to the bathroom. Abner—his boy, the middle child—was possibly in fear for his life, but Desi was insisting he’d earned it, so nothing was pressing.
“Tenner’s had a rough go of it,” Pat said. “We knew him and Nina together. He looked like the perfect husband.”
“Yeah?”
“He was supportive, did all the right things, loves Piper like crazy. But Nina… she never really looked happy, you know?”
“I get that impression,” Ross said, his voice gaining an edge, and Pat raised an eyebrow.
“What do you know?”
Ross didn’t want to betray a confidence, but God, he wanted to talk. “I know about his custody agreement,” he said, and both of Pat’s eyebrows shot up.
“Oh, wow. He told you that. Okay. So more than an interest. Yeah. Look, here’s the thing. I think Nina really loved him, but he couldn’t, you know, be the husband she needed.”
“It would make a person bitter,” Ross conceded. Tenner had tried not to demonize her as well. Ross needed to follow his lead.
“It would. And Tenner tries hard, but you’ve seen him. He can be a closed-off bastard with everyone but Piper.”
Well, yeah. What had seemed like a fun romantic puzzle to Ross would have been a grim emotional void to someone who didn’t have the key to that puzzle. It hadn’t been Nina’s fault she didn’t have the key.
“Complicated,” Ross said softly.
“Not the kind of thing you can change overnight,” Pat agreed. “But then, I understand you’re coming back to live in my basement after this next trip?”
“Your basement is my dream home,” Ross told him, sincerity dripping from every syllable, and Pat laughed.
“God, you’re an ass. Anyway, I want to tell you to stay away from that sitch because it can get messy….”
“But?” Ross prompted.
“But….” Pat took a wistful sip of coffee. “But Tenner’s lonely. And he doesn’t deserve to be. He did something dumb in college—don’t we all? But he’s a good father and a truly good man. And if coming back to him gives you an excuse to come back to us? Settle down a little? I’m all for it too.” He paused and darted a surreptitious look toward the sounds of chaos coming from his bathroom. “I’ll be honest, I think Abner might be ready to come out in a year or two. And it’s nothing we’re going to force, of course, but I think it would be great if his awesome Uncle Ross was here to make him feel all okay-fine.”
Ross had to swallow a couple of times for that one. “I think his awesome dad would do a pretty good job of that too,” he said after a moment. “But I’ll think about it.”
At that moment, Ross’s sister came bustling in, her rich blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, her blue eyes snapping with irritation.
“Patrick, could you help me with this thing?” she muttered, gesturing to the prosthetic she attached to her arm every morning. She’d been born without the lower part, from the elbow down, and had played every sport but baseball growing up. Pat often said that’s how he knew he loved her. If he could be with a woman who didn’t like baseball, it had to be true love forever, because that was the only explanation.
Pat’s love of technology and decent health insurance kept her in the newest and shiniest of prosthetics to help her through her day, but any computer engineer knew that every upgrade had its price.
“Yes, honey,” Pat said. “Sorry, honey. We can go back to the old one if it’s—”
She rolled her eyes. “You were right. I was wrong. This one works very nicely, thank you. It’s much more responsive than the old one.” The look she sent it was one of pure disgust. “It just doesn’t like me.”
Pat put the flesh-colored extension down for a moment and wrapped Desi up in a warm embrace from behind, kissing her cheek. “How could it not like you, sweetheart? You make the angels sing and the heavens weep.”
It should have been impossible to roll your eyes, smirk, and blush at the same time, but Ross’s sister managed to do all three.
“You’re impossible,” she mumbled before turning her head for a kiss.
“I’m out of here,” Ross said cheerfully. “You guys feel free to gross your kids out while you suck face. I’ve got a job to do.”
“Hey, Ross!” Desi stopped him, breaking away from Pat with obvious reluctance. “Can you take Abner to school? His sisters are making him apeshit, and I need to have a talk with both of them.”
“What’s Paulina doing?” Pat asked, surprised. “Allison, yes, but Polly?”
“They’re badgering him,” Desi said. “Asking who his friends are, what his favorite subject is. He gets all family shy and shuts up. And then they get relentless.” She sniffed and looked at her brother with knowing eyes. “They haven’t learned yet that the best way to get information is to do lots of favors and play on guilt.” She gave a smile that was all teeth. “Like I have.”
“Going!” Ross set his coffee cup down in the sink, not wanting to get caught there. “Gotta go! Abner! You, me, car, now!”
“You think you’re going to just walk out and pretend you were here all night?” Desi demanded, and Pat fumbled with the strap on her prosthetic.
“You weren’t here all night?” he asked, horrified.
“I was in a friend’s guest room,” Ross told them both righteously, but he saw Pat’s eyes widen in sudden understanding.
“I wish you’d been getting laid in a bar!” he said. “Desi, hold still. Let me help you with this thing today, and I’ll figure out a shortcut tonight so you can yell at Ross with both hands tomorrow!”
“Oh, yeah. Sorry, honey.” Ross’s first-favorite relative relaxed her shoulders and arms, but kept her gimlet glare focused on Ross. “Whose guest room?”
“Uncle Ross!” Abner was running through the house like the hounds of hell were after him. “Uncle Ross, can we go? Like, now? Now, Uncle Ross!”
Ross jangled his pockets to make sure he had keys, badge, phone, and wallet, and sighed with relief when he found them all where they should be.
“Now, Abner!” he said, darting for the kitchen door. He paused at the landing to make sure Abner got out first and as his sister—now literally armed—tried to make him stay and answer her question, Ross said, “Tenner Gibson’s! Gotta go. Bye!”
Then he fled like the hounds of hell were after him.
“Tenner Gibson—that’s Piper’s Dad. Why were you at his house?” Abner asked as they got into Ross’s Tahoe. Ross started the thing up while waiting for ten-year-old Abner to belt himself into the back seat. Ross and Desi were tall and muscular—but Pat was about an inch shorter than Desi and wiry, and Abner looked like he was heading that way too. His hair was a dark auburn color, the kind most women looked for longingly in boxes, and his eyes were green, which meant every time he set foot out of doors, he risked becoming a giant heat blister. His summers in the dry wilds of Folsom, California, were a long misery of zinc oxide, dorky sun hats, and SPF Shade-on-Mars.