Cam doesn’t let go upon their arrival, however. Instead, he latches on more, sniffling into my shirt. I keep on rubbing his back, attempting to bring him some calm.
“Do you want us to give you some privacy?” Lauren asks.
“No,” Cam croaks, his voice muffled by my body.
She tentatively approaches us, placing her hand on his back as well. She eyes him with all the worry of a concerned mother, which I know, without a shadow of doubt, is completely foreign to him. “Is there anything I can do to help?” she asks him.
Instead of answering, he lets go of me and pulls her into a hug before sobbing again. She walks them both over to the sectional, still locked in their embrace, and sits with him. All the while, she continues rubbing his back,shooshingquietly—letting him cry it out.
Brody gapes up at Marcus. “What’s wrong with Cam?”
Marcus looks just as bewildered. “I’m not sure, bud. Why don’t you go set your things down in your room and then wash up; you and I can work on finishing supper.”
“Sorry,” I tell them both. “I was hoping to have it well underway by the time you got home.”
“No worries,” Marcus hums. “Clearly something came up. Is there anything I can do to help?”
Brody scoots off to do what his dad told him to, and Marcus and I take over in the kitchen. I tell him about the text Cameron got while she continues consoling him—which, honestly, my heart isstillstuttering over, because, like he said, this is just proof that the love in this household knows no bounds. Lauren, who is notorious for appearing closed-off around others, is running her fingers through Cam’s hair as they talk, swiping the tears off his cheeks.
“Well, that’s fuckin’ bullshit,” Marcus gripes, barely keeping his volume down. “These people, they’rewhat? Supposedlyadults? Saying things like that to a child? Fuck is wrong with them?!”
I nod. “They’ve harbored—well, still harbor, apparently—a lot of hatred towards me for Aaron’s condition. They blame my foolhardy ways for him being in the state that he’s in now. Now Cam’s torn between wanting to go see his papa, spend some time with him for Thanksgiving, but he’s upset because they’re making him feel guilty about still living with me.”
“You’re hisfa-ther,” Marcus hisses.
“Not technically,” I sign before my gaze falls to the floor.
He tilts my chin up and gets right in my face. “You cutthatbullshit out right now,” he huffs. His eyes dart towards Brody’s room for a millisecond before he lowers his voice even lower. “Blooddoes not make you a father,lovedoes. I have spent the past eleven years raising a son who is not biologically mine, yet I would hang the goddamn moon for him. Ivy?” He gestures pointedly at the snake tank in the living room. “Prime example, but that’s not all. I would do whatever it takes to make sure that Brody knows that he is safe and that he has a parent who loves him unconditionally.I have seen, first hand, how you and Cam get along—you’re not simply providing him with his basic needs, you arecaringfor him. Youadorehim, and he reciprocates that the best way a teenager knows how to. You. Are. His. Father.”
By the time he is done with his tirade, his chest is heaving, and he’s more wound up than I have ever seen him before. Papa Bear Mode: activated. My god, I love this man. Ilovehim. I tell him so by pressing the sign onto his chest, right above his heart.
“I love you too,” he says, pulling me into a hug, damn near lifting me off my feet. Nope, scratch that, he actuallydoeslift me off my feet, setting me on the countertop and stepping between my legs. He rests his huge palms on my thighs, leans in, and kisses me.
“We’re going to get this figured out,” he promises me, murmuring on my lips. “Cam shouldn’t be made to choose, nor should he have seeing his papa dangled over his head. Both youandhim deserve access to Aaron, to help care for Aaron, to be able to keep Aaron involved with your lives.”
Oddly, I see his eyes flit up towards Lauren’s home office in the loft of their house, before focusing back on mine. I’m not able to inquire about what that look was for before he starts speaking again. “Now, super important question here. One that will define whetheror not you and I are truly soulmates even. What’s going on top of this meatloaf before it goes into the oven?” He narrows his eyes at me.
I chuckle. Cameron, still in the living room with Lauren, peeks over the back of the couch and answers for me, “Healwaysputs barbeque sauce on it.”
“Marry me now, Caleb Wi—Dupris!” Marcus hoots, spinning out from between my legs and doing a happy dance. “Marry me right fuckin’ now! Boring ass ketchup has absolutelynoplace on meatloaf, and I will stand on that soapbox until the day they bury me!”
Lauren scoffs, shaking her head, while a laugh bubbles out of Cameron.
Brody calls out from his bedroom, “Then why do we put ketchup on hamburgers?”
“Because they’re two separate things!” Marcus shouts back.
“Not really, if you think about it,” Brody hums, stepping out into the kitchen.
“He’s not wrong,” I agree.
Brody smirks at me. “You know? You’re alright. I guess you can stay for dinner,” he deadpans, shrugging.
I gotta say, I love the kid’s dry wit.
Marcus snorts. “Thanks for allowing it, King Brode. Now, get on over here and start disrobing some of these spuds.”
Brody wrinkles his nose. “No thanks.”
