Through the wall of kitchen windows that overlooks the backyard, something catches my eye. And when I see what it is, a smile brightens my face. I grab at Zander excitedly and pull him to the windows so he can see what I’m seeing.
Wyatt’s barbecuing.
“Your dad barbecues like a fucking boss,” I say. We watch as he stands over the grill, a grilling spatula in one hand, a bottle in the other. There’s a wooden table and chairs behind him, already made up, waiting for a family of four to join. A brand new highchair sits in place of the fourth chair, and my heart sings at the sight. He’s been waiting for us. My stomach rumbles, suddenly in dire need of food. Zander perks up instantly and rushes out the back. I almost follow when I remember I sent Baby Godzilla off on her own, and I go find her before joining my boys in the backyard.
CHAPTER 16
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I’ve dozed off during the movie. I don’t even care that I’m half-asleep, snoring softly, and with my mouth hanging open. In the background, I can hear the final scene of Point Break—the 1990 version, not the remake—on the TV. This is Wyatt’s favorite movie. It’s actually mine, too. As ridiculous as it sounds, we bonded over our shared love of the brotherhood between Bodhi and Utah. Wyatt used to tease me that I only fell for him because of his excellent taste in cinema. He was half-right, I think. Still, I never kept a copy of it in the house after we broke up. I couldn’t stand the idea of seeing it on a shelf, much less watching it without him. So this was Zander’s first watch, and it seems like he’s a fan.
“What happened to him?” Zander asks. He shifts in his seat, almost elbowing me in the arm before pulling away. The sofa dips, and I slump to the side just before a large warm body—Wyatt’s large warm body—pulls me against him. I do my level best not to tense up at the contact and to just go with it. We’ve had a good day—a really good day. Despite the fact that Wyatt did indeed move us into this blasted farmhouse, he’s made a point of making this a home for us. The kitchen already had an assortment of necessities that were brought over from my rental in Detroit, as well as a few new things he’d supplied. There’s still a lot of boxes to go through, but he’s already done so much.
I’m supposed to be asleep. I really did doze off sometime between Utah and Tyler hooking up and the botched bank robbery, and I didn’t come to until Utah was in Australia. Wyatt’s deep voice rumbles against my head as the credits roll. “He let him go.”
“Did he die?” Zander’s voice comes from across the room. My heart warms at my boy’s enthusiasm. I was worried the film would be too dated for him, but he’s a good egg.
“Probably, but it doesn’t really matter,” Wyatt says. “What’s important is that he got the chance to do something he loves. All men should be so lucky.”
There’s a long silence between the two that makes me uncomfortable. We had such a great dinner out in the backyard. Even my messy little girl ate the baby burger I made her without protest. Zander kept asking Wyatt how long we got to stay in this house for, and Wyatt kept saying forever. It bugged me, Wyatt telling him that. He can’t just promise shit to kids that he can’t follow through with. Z will hang onto that like a lifeline, and the minute his dad’s promise becomes a lie, it’s going to blow up. After dinner, Zander suggested a movie, and with little convincing, Wyatt got us to watch Point Break. We wedged ourselves onto the sofa—Wyatt and I on the ends with Zander in the middle—and it was so normal and perfect and right. Piper even fell asleep on her dad’s lap. He held her there until—well, for all I know he could still be holding her. At some point all the perfect family shit just became too much and I closed my eyes. I don’t hear her breathing, though, so she might be in her portable crib. I want to worry about where she is. I feel like I should. I can’t bring myself to though. She has Zander and Wyatt, so she’s safe and taken care of, even if I did fall down on the job. There’s this thing that happens with depression. Even when things don’t change, they feel like they suck or it’s all just numb. Then the really good stuff starts up, and I just can’t handle it. It’s like every ounce of hope is threatening to spill out and flood the world. And once the hope is out there, I’m raw. There’s nothing that can protect me from being destroyed by my dream falling apart again.
“Dad?”
“Yeah?” Wyatt’s voice is low and rough. Emotional. About a week ago Zander asked Wyatt what he should call him. It was awkward and sweet and so many things that it broke my heart. My boy never should have had to ask. He should have always had his dad, and his dad should have always had his son. And no amount of feeling like shit is going to give that back to either of them.
“Are you, um . . . do you . . . I mean,” Zander stumbles over his words.
“You can ask me anything. No joke. You ask, I’ll answer.”
“Do you like my mom?”