Cherish & Blessed (9 page)

“So I shouldn’t hold my breath for an apology?”

“No, but that doesn’t mean you won’t get one. You have to talk to her, though, let her know why you’re hurt. Spell it out a little.”

Kent sighed.

“Yeah, I know. Not all hearts and flowers,” Matt said.

“It’s just a lot more complicated than I thought,” Kent admitted.

Matt and Blake laughed. “Oh wait, it gets worse,” the boy’s father said.

They took the long way home, a loop around the neighborhood, making small talk before approaching the house. Sports, school, Kent’s internship at a nonprofit. No one had thought to bring their cell phone, so they were essentially coming in blind—which made finding Miranda sitting on the stairs and Cornelia in the car all the more fun.

“Ah, okay. You each take a significant other. I’m going to make sure Evan isn’t on the roof….” Matt gave them a wink.

He and Miranda exchanged a cool look before he walked inside. That was a conversation he was scheduling for half past never fucking ever because frankly, he didn’t feel like being either the adult or the bigger person. Screw it—he was immature and vindictive. Kent was a nice kid, and Miranda deserved to get dumped.

Let her learn a lesson about manipulating people. Let her feel the sting of betraying someone’s trust. It might curtail this sort of bullshit before she got older. Who knew what damage she could do to a kid?

He was four steps into the foyer when one of those pesky realization things hit him in the face.

Oh. Right.

“Thanks, Mom, as always,” he murmured dryly.

The television was on—football—with Shane napping in the easy chair and Danny sacked across the sofa with inelegant ease. He looked up as Matt passed by. They exchanged shrugs and “whatever” eyebrow raises, which made Matt feel as warm as a hug.

“Dad?”

“Out back, pacing. You know, I was thinking we need a woodpile and an ax out there so he can whack stuff when he gets like this,” Danny deadpanned.

Matt was clearly raising this boy right.

“Your dad and sharp objects are never a good idea. Plus we don’t have a fireplace.” Matt gestured to the empty seats in the room.

“Helena, Katie, and Elizabeth are in the back room checking out the Black Friday sales.” He shook his head. “Oh, and that lady and Dad had a huge fight, and she got her bags. So we’ll have extra dessert.”

“Good to know.” Matt clapped his hands together, and Shane startled in his sleep. “Off to deal with your dad.”

Danny snickered.

Matt walked through the clean kitchen and to the back deck, then paused at the sliding glass door to watch his lover making a wide circuit, dodging stacked chairs and the covered grill on his way. A shaft of sadness hit his gut, the never-ending frustration of how he couldn’t quite help Evan find the peace he so desperately needed. They’d gotten closer. Better. Days and weeks when things were quiet and comfortable and happy. Then a bump and, more often than not, the spiral of Evan’s moods.

Matt spent a lot of time talking to his friend slash therapist Liz about this, more time in semifake therapy than Evan ever had. It was something he had to deal with—not just Evan’s moods but the fact that it wasn’t his job to fix them.

Except he couldn’t help but keep trying.

Matt pushed the door open and stepped onto the deck. Another burst of late-November wind blew by, and he wished he’d remembered a coat this time. He could barely feel his hands at this point.

“Hey,” he called, deceptively casual. He put his hands in his pockets, trying to get some feeling back in his fingers.

Evan paused. When he turned, Matt could see his expression was… lost. That somehow hurt worse than the sadness he was expecting.

“Hey. Did they leave?”

“Noooo. I think Blake was going to talk to Cornelia. PS, he’s a good guy. So’s his kid. Kent and Miranda—who knows?” Matt took a few steps toward Evan. “The ladies are spending your money, Shane is in a turkey coma, and Danny just wants his fair share of pie.”

“Today has turned out worse than I imagined. And that’s impressive considering how pessimistic I am.”

Matt closed the distance between them. When their shoulders touched, he pushed gently against Evan’s side. “It’s not that bad.”

Evan shook his head. “You don’t know….”

“What? What don’t I know?”

“Miranda’s really….” Evan looked away.

Matt—because he knew, he always knew—reached down to take his hand. “Miranda really secretly hates me? Except not so secretly?” he asked gently.

“It’s not hate.”

“No, it’s misplaced anger. I get it.” Matt squeezed their fingers together. “Not gonna lie and pretend it doesn’t matter, because it hurts my feelings like a motherfucker.”

Evan turned back, his face locked into a painful grimace. “I don’t—I honestly don’t know what to do.”

“I can volunteer to move out for a while, let Miranda come back here and—”

But Evan shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“She’s your kid. And I can go stay at the work site for a few weeks.” Matt’s voice was sure, even as his heart hurt. But he would do it without a second thought if it meant easing the expression of defeat on Evan’s face. “The kids come first.”

Evan sagged next to him as the grip on his hand got harder. “I don’t want to be manipulated like that. And in the end, what does it matter? You’ll come back, and she’ll be angry.”

Matt opened his mouth to say more, to be so graciously self-sacrificing, but Evan narrowed his eyes, and his downturned mouth morphed into something angry. “Don’t you dare.”

“Fine,” Matt said, halfway between breezy and pained. “I was just going for my martyr badge.”

“Shut up.”

Evan leaned over for a kiss, taking Matt’s mouth with a ferocity he usually reserved for a few too many beers and no kids at home. He pulled him closer, manipulating their bodies until they were flush together, chest to chest.

Evan bit and licked him until his lips hurt. Matt didn’t push back—he just let Evan have his way and take his pent-up anger and sadness and frustration and confusion out on his mouth. And when Matt pulled away for some desperately needed air, the fierce hunger on his lover’s face melted his spine.

“I love you. And I’m not choosing.”

Matt’s chest hurt; he guessed it was his heart trying to beat right out of his chest. He touched Evan’s face gently, just his fingers stroking the curve of his jaw. “I love you too.”

They kissed again, easy and chaste.

H
AND
IN
hand, Evan and Matt walked back into the kitchen. Matt muttered something about coffee. He gave Evan’s hand one more squeeze, then moved away to get warm. Evan watched him lovingly for a moment.

The thought of him leaving…. Once upon a time, he might have said yes. Might have agreed to the separation to gain some control over the situation. But unlike that previous incarnation, Evan didn’t operate on fear anymore. And the idea of Matt not being there with him, with the family, made him sick to his stomach.

He wasn’t choosing. But there had to be a better way to convey that to Miranda. Because just like he didn’t want to be forced to choose one over the other, he couldn’t let his daughter keep drifting away.

The dining room was abuzz with conversation as he walked in. The younger kids were at the table with Shane, Helena, and Blake. A deck of colorful cards was set up in the center, with Elizabeth marking scores neatly on a legal pad.

“Hi, Daddy.” She smiled up at him, tentative as she tried to gauge his mood.

He didn’t hesitate to walk over. “Hi, sweetheart. Who’s winning?” Evan put his arm around Elizabeth, stroking her hair.

“Blake.”

“Congrats—they’re all ruthless card sharks at this game.” He gave the other man a nod.

“I can see that.” Blake smiled, friendly and open—very different than the argument Evan had had with Cornelia. Who wasn’t anywhere to be found. “I’m holding on to a slim lead, I assure you.”

Helena cracked the deck in her hand and shuffled it like a Vegas pro. “Undercover at an illegal gambling operation,” she said to Shane, who was giving her a strange look.

“Wow.” Shane’s gaze went to full adoration.

“Where’s everyone else?” Evan ventured.

“Kent and Miranda are taking a walk,” Elizabeth reported, ever the family busybody.

“Cornelia is taking a little nap,” Blake added, smooth and nonplussed.

“Ah.” Evan guessed that meant her decision to leave had been overruled or at least put on a delay. Which meant this wasn’t over yet, not by a long shot. “Well, I’m going to get dessert on the counter. Matt’s making coffee.”

“I love him. He’s my favorite,” Helena muttered, dealing the cards counterclockwise.

Katie looked intently at each card tossed her way, then up at his face with too-wise eyes. “Need any help?”

“Matt and I have it.” Evan winked at her. “But maybe later.”

“’Kay.” She went back to her hand, and the round soon began, leaving Evan a spectator. Once again he was overwhelmed with his love for his kids. They were growing up so fast, and yet he could see with such clarity their faces at each age, each stage of life.

Matt rumbled in behind him, and the moment was broken. “Coffee in ten,” he said, pressing up against Evan’s back. They were still in that moment of closeness, not quite ready to stay away from each other.

“Is there tea?” Shane peeked up from behind his fan of cards.

“No, sorry. We’re out of hot water.”

Evan elbowed Matt.

“Be nice to my boyfriend,” Helena warned, taking a card from the deck.

“I was just pretending to be Vic for a moment,” Matt said sweetly. He dropped a kiss on Evan’s cheek. “Next I’m going to be your mom.”

Shane shivered dramatically, which earned him an elbow in the side of his own.

The front door slamming caught everyone’s attention. Evan knew it was Miranda who stomped up the stairs afterward—he’d learned that very distinctive sound over the years.

“Excuse—”

“No, that’s okay. I’m going up,” Katie said. Her cards hit the table as she stood up, anger barely restrained in her expression. “My big sister and I need to have a little girl talk.”

It was on the tip of Evan’s tongue to stop Katie, to handle it himself, but he reminded himself that Miranda was a young adult—and so was Katie.

So Evan nodded.

“Go get ’em,” Matt murmured.

Katie shot him a grateful glance. “Save me pie,” she said, stalking out of the dining room with a determined set of her shoulders.

“No promises!” Danny yelled before dropping his last card and winning the game.

Evan distracted himself by taking the desserts out and laid them on the kitchen counter so as not to disrupt the game going on in the other room. It had reached a fever pitch, as only five points separated the top three players.

“Lightning round!” Elizabeth squealed, and the faint sound of G-rated trash talk began.

Matt set the coffee on the table and poured himself a large mug before surrendering the pot. “You think we should find the wayward members of our party?” he asked, leaning against the fridge.

“No.”

Matt laughed at his blunt honesty. “You going to tell me about what happened between you and Cornelia?”

“Oh right. You missed that. Well, she hates guns, doesn’t seem to love cops all that much, and thinks I’m a bad parent raising a daughter with shitty values.” Evan rattled around in the silverware drawer, trying to remember if they had a cake-server thingy.

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“She’s not getting any pie, that’s for sure.”

A scream of victory went up in the other room. Elizabeth, clearly. A round of applause followed.

“I won!” Elizabeth skipped into the kitchen, a bright smile on her face. She stopped next to Evan for a hug. “I won by twenty points!”

“Impressive comeback.” Matt leaned over to give her a high five.

“Shane is pretending to cry.” She snickered. “Helena said he was clearly broken and would need extra whipped cream on his pumpkin pie.”

Matt snapped his fingers. “That’s what I forgot.”

“No tea, no whipped cream, and he lost. What a terrible day.” Helena walked into the kitchen, a wry smile on her face.

“You’ll have to make it up to him,” Matt said dryly over Elizabeth’s head—literally and figuratively.

Helena fluttered her eyelashes at him.

“Any sounds from upstairs?” Evan went into the fridge for the conciliatory cream.

“No. But Kent came in a while ago. He seemed mostly okay.”

Evan didn’t say anything with Elizabeth in the room, but he added the boy to his list of people to talk to before he and his family roared away from this mess. “Honey, go get everyone, okay?”

“Sure.” Elizabeth ducked out of the room.

“I have to tell you, this was so much more exciting than getting grilled about my marital status in Florida,” Helena said, taking the two cans of nondairy heaven out of Evan’s hands. “Sincerely.”

“When I talk to your stepfather on Monday, I’m going to mention you were looking at baby clothes online.”

Her face crumpled into a scowl. “Lies.”

Matt’s “Ha!” bounced off the walls.