Squared Away (Out of Uniform 5)

“We were over at Lydia and Jane’s for a playdate yesterday. Their yard looks so good,” the mother of the group enthused. “What would it take to get you to come look at ours?”

“I’ve got a business card.” Isaiah dug in his wallet. “I’m working on the website, but there’s a basic rate schedule up there now.”

“You have business cards?” Mark asked when the family had moved on. He wasn’t sure why this rankled him, just that it did.

“Yeah.” Isaiah offered him one. “They just came the other day.”

New Growth Gardens, the card proclaimed with a website address and Isaiah’s name and phone number. It had a cheerful little cactus graphic in the corner.

“You’re starting a business?”

“I guess I am.” Isaiah laughed. “It started with Lydia’s yard, but now other people are asking. And I need something. Gotta plan for next year, when you sell the house. No way can I afford to stay on Coronado, but if I get enough customers here, that’ll help.”

So he was planning on moving on. Not living together indefinitely. Mark’s throat burned. He should be happy for him, proud of him starting a business, going after his newfound passion. But all he could manage was a tepid, “Yeah.”

“You worried I won’t have enough time for the kids?” Isaiah frowned at him. “I’m working everything around that. Don’t worry.”

Don’t worry. Ha. Mark was a basket of worries now. And he’d managed to piss Isaiah off. “Not worried. You always put the kids first.”

“Thanks.”

But what about me? What about us? He didn’t know how to vocalize those questions without sounding like he wanted to hold Isaiah back from going after his dreams. So instead he said, “I hope the business is a big success. Just surprised you didn’t tell me.”

Looking away, Isaiah shrugged. “You’ve had a busy couple of weeks.”

Fuck. Isaiah had a point—a lot of their life and interaction revolved around Mark’s work, his needs, his preferences. Maybe Mark needed to do a better job putting Isaiah first. Or else you’re going to lose him.

“Not too busy for you.” Mark stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. “Never too busy to hear about what’s important to you.”

“Thanks.” Isaiah’s voice sounded thick and he stared at Mark’s hand. This was the first time Mark had touched him in public other than the necessary kid handoffs. And the world didn’t end. Didn’t even tilt—

“Wizard? Is that you?” A dark-haired woman with three school-aged kids, two boys and a girl, called out as she walked over. “Thought I recognized you. My husband, Tim, said to look out for you. I’m Mary Ellen Johnson.”

Ah. Johnson’s family. Mark dropped his hand from Isaiah’s shoulder to shake her hand and wave at the kids as she introduced them.

“And who do you have with you?” She had a warm voice and was full of smiles for the kids.

“This is...” Oh fuck. For Pete’s sake, why couldn’t Mark get the words out? Any words. “This is my family.” There. That was something. But he could tell from the way Isaiah’s face shuttered that maybe it wasn’t enough. Mark stumbled on with the kids’ names and ages, trying to make small talk.

“Tim says you’re fabulous with the recruits,” Mary Ellen said as she straightened the oldest kid’s collar. “Whipping them into shape. Swear though, I’ve never seen him so tired. You coping?”

“Yeah. I miss the kids though.” And Isaiah. He wanted to share how knowing Isaiah was waiting for him at the end of the day really did help him cope with the long hours, but he wasn’t that talkative, even on the best of days, and his throat was rapidly turning to glue.

“I bet. You need any help with them? I should give you our number. And Tim said I should introduce you to my sister. She loves little ones.”

Oh fuck. This situation was quickly going FUBAR, and he was powerless to stop it. “Not much time for socializing,” he managed to get out.

“Well, still, take my number. We can do a playdate sometime.” She whipped out her phone so Mark felt obliged to do the same as they exchanged numbers. “And I mean it about my sister,” she added before her kids pulled her in the direction of the older kids’ hunt, and she followed them, waving at Mark as she left.

Isaiah was subdued as they continued on, not looking at Mark, and focusing on the kids.

All your fault, idiot, Mark lectured himself. “You want me to do the hunt with Daphne?” he asked, if only to break the silence.

“Sure. Since you’re coping so well on your own and all.” Okay, yeah. Isaiah was understandably salty.

“I’m sorry,” Mark said in a low voice. “I didn’t know what else to say.”

“I know.” Isaiah looked tired, eyes heavy and hooded. “You take Daphne. I’ll take Zoe to the little kid games.”