But the words, all the words that I’d had to tell Trinity and my mother, got stuck in my throat when I thought about everything I could lose.
Bear’s grandparents, whom he loved so dearly.
And Auntie Trinity, who took him into the city every year before Christmas for some serious shopping and made him his favorite key lime pies for Thanksgiving, even though absolutely nobody else loved those horrible custards.
I thought about potentially losing the only constant thing in my and my son’s life, for a man who was great—perfect, even—but ultimately, just a man.
And I froze.
“Well?” Trinity spat into my face, her teeth clenching against her words.
My mother moved beside her, lacing their arms.
They had an alliance. They were a fully formed unit, and I wasn’t a part of them.
I took a step back.
“Call it off with Cruz,” Trinity said. “Or I won’t have a maid of honor.”
“Your maid of honor hates you,” I said simply, my voice tiny, and resigned, and not completely mine. “Haven’t you noticed she does nothing for you other than getting the desired title of a maid of honor? She scares you so much you just slapped your own sister to make a point.”
“Gabriella deserves Cruz. She worked hard to get him and had him, too. They just need time to figure things out,” Trinity said defensively, calming down a little. “And anyway, what do you think’s gonna happen? He’s gonna go on to marry you or something? Quit dreamin’, Nessy, and just do the smart thing for once in your life. Have some self-respect for once in your life. Oh, and before you leave.” Trinity turned around, kicking the goodie bag box between us toward me. “Make sure nothing is broken. The last thing I need is to give my guests broken glass in a cellophane wrap because of you.”
I grabbed the box, humiliation burning through my chest, turned around and walked away.
Note to self: stop trying to appease people who don’t want anything to do with you once you grow a pair. Over and out.
“Thanks for letting me play Assassin’s Creed. It was awesome. I’d kill to have your game room, dude.” Bear unbuckled himself in my passenger’s seat, his grin threatening to split his face in two.
“Please don’t. Your mother would find a way to pin it on me, and the bail’s going to be through the roof.”
I cut the engine, my gaze touching the front door of the rickety bungalow. There was a brand new skateboard box leaning against the door.
I frowned.
“Did your mom get you a new one?” I was under the impression she was saving up to get him a video game.
“Negatory. That would be Rob, that pain in the butt. I know he’s your friend, but for real, he’s pushier than a good bra.” Bear’s brown hair flopped over his green eyes. He blew it away, shaking his head.
“He’s showing promising signs of turning into a semi-decent guy,” I forced myself to say.
True, he mouthed off to me at Wyatt’s bachelor party, but nothing could take away the fact he was genuinely trying, even though he was getting nowhere with Tennessee.
“He’s a glorified sperm donor,” Bear said.
“He’s trying to make it up to you.”
“It’ll take more than a skateboard and a few Dwight Schrute pining faces to get me on board with that family reunion.”
The kid was a fan of The Office. How dumb was Rob to give up on what he’d left behind?
Bear bent to retrieve his backpack, slinging it over his shoulder.
“Anyway, thanks for the game. And the pizza. But not the pep talk.”
“Bear, wait.”
I put my arm on his shoulder. He turned to look at me expectantly. I really didn’t want to play this game again, where I sought Tennessee out. It made me feel like a desperate fanboy.