Trading with the Boys

“I was the one who taught her all that by the way,” said Tate, his voice dripping with smug satisfaction. “I’m also the one who put her back together.” He looked over at me and winked. “She paid me well.”

The tension between Eric and my three boyfriends was building steadily. Whatever was about to happen next, it would probably not be good.

“Look,” I told him. “You’re still bleeding. Maybe you should go to the hospital and get your nose looked at. Or at least check into a hotel and lay down for a while. If David—”

“If David what?” came a voice from behind us.

The five of us whirled, just in time to see another car pulling away from the curb. David stood there with a duffel bag dangling from one long arm. He had a full beard, and his hair was so much longer than it was the last time I’d seen him. It made him look very different. So much more mature.

“Dad?”

My stepson’s look of total confusion didn’t last long. His father ran to him, flinging his arms around his son. Hugging him like the father he should be, instead of the father he actually was.

I saw the duffel bag drop. His eyes shifted to me, perhaps looking for answers. I was all out of answers, though. I could only shrug.

Eric doted on his son for half a minute, kissing him on both cheeks in that weird Italian way. He told him how good he looked and congratulated him on his upcoming wedding. He also started spewing more bullshit about how he couldn’t wait to meet the bride-to-be — someday soon — when suddenly David noticed the guys.

“J—Jacob?” he asked, confused.

“Yeah man,” Jacob smiled. “What’s up?”

He extended his hand, and David shook it mechanically. They did that thing at the end of the handshake, where they were still clasping fingers before letting go. It was a team thing. Old habits die hard.

“And… Tate?” he shook his head as if to clear it.

“Yeah it’s me,” Tate acknowledged. He gave David a half-hug, the minute his father finally let go of him. “Welcome home I guess,” he chuckled.

David glanced at Cole, and there was vague recognition there. Then he looked at me, his expression going even more awkward.

“Hi.”

“Hey David,” I said, and gave him a hug. “How’s it going down there?”

“It’s going,” he said awkwardly. “I, uh… I’m getting married in a few months.”

“I heard.”

Overwhelmed b

y everything and everyone, he took a step back. His eyes scanned each of us again, one by one. Trying to make sense of it all.

“You guys knew I was coming?” David asked in bewilderment. “And you all came to see me?”

A few seconds of awkward silence followed. The guys glanced at each other.

“Not exactly,” said Jacob, scratching his head.

“They’re living in the house now for some reason,” Eric cut in quickly. His voice was loud and accusatory as he pointed to the door. “All of them. That one there who cuts our lawn. The other one there, who I remember from your team…”

“Not all of us,” Tate stepped in.

“They’re renting your room, David,” said Eric. “And look at this! They’re driving my car.”

He pointed again, and David’s gaze swung to the GTO. His eyes lit up in astonishment. I could only imagine what he was thinking.

“They’re all here,” Eric went on. “The three of them. Living with her...” My ex-husband scowled at me, curling his lip. “Sharing the house with her… and God knows what else.”

A truck rumbled past, out in the street. The noise was loud but it broke up the conversation. It gave everyone a few seconds of doing nothing, while it all sank in.