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“And Mr. Broody? What about him?”
“What about him?” I say and as soon as I’ve said it, I realize it comes out a bit snappy.
Millie doesn’t take the bait and continues. “Do we need to get a costume for him, too?”
“I doubt it. He probably doesn’t even realize we’re having a party, since he’s never at home. I don’t know, Mills, my time thinking about Kyler Rose is over. He can do his own thing, which is fine by me.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“What? Yes, of course I am. I’m fine with it,” I quickly tell her.
“Sure, okay. You keep telling yourself that Ross,” she says, referring to the episode of Friends we watched the other night where Ross insists he’s fine with Rachel and Joey dating when he clearly isn’t. “In the meantime, I’ll just be here, waiting to hear what you truly want to say about Kyler Rose.”
“There’s honestly nothing to say. He’s never at home, I don’t see him much on campus. He’s a ghost who ghosts people. So, fine. One less mouth to feed and worry about.”
Except it’s not, because I still make enough food for him and plate up a portion every night, even though the majority of the time the plate goes untouched, and the food goes to waste.
I don’t say anything further for fear of saying too much and giving Millie the wrong idea. We wait for the shop assistant to bag all our costumes and hand them over to us after we’ve paid. Once finished, we buy a few decorations for the house, and some plastic bowls for the candy we’ll have for trick or treaters. The guys are in charge of buying those, and no doubt they’ll have gone to town in Walmart buying the special Halloween bags they always have on sale.
We decide to have some lunch at the mall before going back to the house to start decorating. Sitting down in the restaurant area, Millie opts for a burger and fries, and I have a wrap and a salad. I’m just about to take a sip of my soda when Millie gasps and drops a handful of fries back onto her plate.
“Holy shit-on-a-stick!” she exclaims.
“What?” I say, looking around, wondering what on earth she’s seen.
“Don’t look now, but Kyler is over there and he’s not alone.”
I discreetly look over my shoulder to where Millie is indicating. She’s right, Kyler is standing outside a toy store, near to where we are sitting, and he’s definitely not by himself. Sitting on his shoulders is a little girl, maybe about three or four-years-old in age, wearing jeans, a cute little T-shirt, and blue sneakers. But this isn’t what shocks me the most. What shocks me is the fact this little girl, laughing away without a care in the world, is the spitting image of the man whose shoulders she is sitting on. Right down to the color of her long dark hair, which is haphazardly tied up on each side of her head. Kyler reaches up and gently tickles her sides and the little girl bursts into uncontrollable laughter and it’s the most adorable thing I’ve seen. He’s like a completely different person. He looks so relaxed and happy. It’s clear she’s the light of his life the way he’s acting around her.
Kyler picks her up off his shoulders and places her on the ground, crouching down next to her with his arm around her. I watch, mesmerized, as she points to something in the window—a little pink and light-blue Spiderman costume with accompanying mask. It’s obviously something the manufacturers have introduced to appeal to their young female fans. Kyler asks her something and she nods enthusiastically. He stands up and takes her hand before letting her lead him into the shop. Looks like this little girl is going to have the best costume this Halloween.
“Wow,” Millie says, interrupting my train of thought. “She looks exactly like him.”
“Yeah, she does,” I murmur, not taking my eyes off the store they went into.
“I guess this explains the absences then.”
I turn around and look back at Millie. “Huh, what?”
She looks pointedly toward the store before returning her attention to me. “Kyler. That’s the reason he’s never at your house. Because he’s looking after his kid, right?”
I look toward the store again and the penny drops. Of course. Millie’s right. The fact he’s never at home: the late nights, the working all hours, the personal issues Jude says he has, it all falls into place. It’s because he has a family he needs to take care of. What I don’t understand is why he hasn’t told the rest of us about them. It’s not as if we’d change our opinion on him. If anything, I’m sure all of us would offer to help out if he needed us to.
Kyler and his little girl walk out of the store, and she’s skipping happily while he clutches a shopping bag and a tiny little pink backpack with a mermaid on the front. If I wasn’t so shocked, my hormones would be going crazy at the sight of this tall, surly, constantly-scowling man clearly doting on his daughter. A brooding Kyler is one thing, but a baby-daddy Kyler, happily smiling without a care in the world? It’s truly a sight to behold.
“Yeah,” I say, realizing I’ve not yet responded to Millie’s latest comment. “I guess it does explain the absences. I’m surprised he’s never said anything though.”
Millie shrugs. “Maybe he just doesn’t want the fact he’s a dad to take the focus off being drafted to the NHL. That’s his endgame, right? Makes sense he wants to succeed if he’s got a young family to look after.”
“I guess you’re right,” I reply distractedly. I look over my shoulder once again, but Kyler and his little girl are no longer in sight.
We finish our meal and Millie gathers up or trays and tidies them away. As she does, I quickly take out my phone and open the last text exchange I had with him all those weeks ago and type out a message to him.
You shouldn’t have to keep your daughter a secret, Kyler. She’s adorable by the way.
Before I overthink it and change my mind, I press send. It’s unlikely I’ll get a response but it’s my way of letting him know that being a young father is nothing to be ashamed of. The three bubbles appear almost immediately, letting me know not only has he read my message but he’s also typing a reply. I hold my breath, somewhat nervous about what he’ll say.
Ky
