Chapter 2-1
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Chapter 2
“Our cell numbers are on the fridge,” Jack told his mother, who’d come to babysit for the evening. “We’ll probably have them off during parent-teacher interviews, so if you need to get in touch with us urgently, the school’s phone number is also on that list.”
Dismissively, the children’s grandmother said, “You act as if I haven’t raised five children of my own!”
“Well, you know how I worry,” Jack replied.
The smiling redhead took her son by the shoulders and looked him knowingly in the eye. “You’re an excellent father, Jack.”
Ren shuffled by the front door. He didn’t mean to, only all this touchy-feely family stuff was so foreign to him. He hadn’t grown up that way. Not at all.
When Jack’s mother realized she wasn’t including him, she reached out and dragged Ren into an embrace. “You’re an excellent father too, Ren.”
“Thank you, Katherine.”
“Mother!” she replied. “You must call me Mother. Or Mom. Whatever suits you.”
“Thanks,” he said, but it wouldn’t feel right. He had only one mother, and Katherine could never fill those shoes. “Anyway, Jack, we should get going. Don’t want to be late.”
“No, no,” Katherine said. “Of course not. You want to make a good first impression on Charlotte’s teacher.”
“Are you talking about me?” Charlotte called from the TV nook.
“No, honey,” Jack replied. “We’re just getting ready to leave. Do your old dads get a hug before we go?”
Ren breathed in sharply and looked to his watch. “Jack...”
It was too late, by then. The kids were on their way over. Charlotte was faster than Simon. She launched herself into Jack’s arms, saying, “I don’t want you to go!”
“But you get to stay home with Grammy,” Jack said, holding Charlotte tight. “I bet she’ll read the turtle book.”
Charlotte’s eyes lit up at the prospect. Meanwhile, her little brother wrapped himself around Ren’s leg. When Ren reached down to rub his sandy hair, he realized the kid was busy wiping his snotty nose on Ren’s trousers.
“Simon!” Ren shouted. “Look what you’ve done!”
“What?” Katherine asked, leaning down to investigate. She pulled a tissue from her pocket and used it not to wipe the snot from Ren’s trouser leg, but to wipe it from young Simon’s rosy face. “Oh, that’s nothing. You’re meeting with a teacher. Teachers have seen it all.”
Still, Ren dislodged the decorative purple hankie from his jacket pocket and wiped away the glossy traces of Simon’s nasal excretions.
In the car, he said to Jack, “I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to this.”
Jack misinterpreted the statement, reaching for his hand in wistful wonderment. “Yeah, it’s like living in some sort of magical dreamland, isn’t it? You, me, the kids. It’s just... perfect!”
That wasn’t at all what Ren meant, but he’d let his husband have the moment.
You never knew when it would all come crashing down.
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