Sitting down at the kitchen table, everyone enjoyed the dinner they made together. Riley got dirty again, and Sam gave Wyatt a look of sympathy. That man must be buried in laundry.
They did the dishes together so it was chaos with dogs and kids everywhere. Riley wanted to let the dogs lick everything clean.
"They're not vacuum cleaners. We can only feed the dogs dog approved food. Human food might not be good for them," he warned the boys.
Even as it got late, Sam didn't try to leave. Wyatt, the kids and the dogs made him feel so good, he couldn't tear himself away. He was still there when Wyatt was tucking the kids into bed, and he got invited to sit in on story time.
"Tell us a story about Sam," DJ said, and Sam looked over at Wyatt worriedly.
Wyatt thought it over then he nodded. "OK. This is a story about Sam in the Celery Forest."
The story was about Sam being "stalked by stalks of celery" and it involved repeating the word crunch about a hundred times to the boys' delight. Finally Sam was saved by two boys who had a jar of peanut butter with them to defeat the celery.
The boys liked the story. Then they got good night hugs, and Wyatt and Sam left them so they could get to sleep.
As soon as the two of them stepped out into the hall, Sam's stomach was in knots. He and Wyatt were alone now, and he didn't know what that might mean.
Chapter 11
Sam might have been tense, torn between hope and fear, but Wyatt was at ease.
"Usually the dogs are the main characters, but something about you inspires me," Wyatt told him with a grin as he went into the living room and sat down.
Sam was thinking that he should go. Now that they were basically alone, it seemed reckless to stick around. But then he noticed that Wyatt looked thoughtful, so he sat down next to him to see what was on his mind.
Wyatt turned to him and explained. "When you told me you were five when you lost your parents, I realized that was the same age as DJ. I guess you went through the same thing the boys did."
"Not the same thing. Once my parents died, I always felt alone, and I was always afraid that my relatives would decide to get rid of me. They were constantly fighting about who would take me in next. More than once, I heard them say, 'Let him live on the street then. He's not my problem.' The boys have you. They don't have to live in fear." Sam said it as matter of factly as he could, but his voice still broke at the end.
Wyatt looked appalled by what Sam told him. He reached out his hand and placed it over Sam's. "I would never turn my back on them." He gave Sam's hand a small squeeze then he let go and his expression became troubled. "But I did turn my back on my father and my brother."
"How come?" Sam asked.
"When I came out in college, they didn't react well," Wyatt said with a sigh. "My dad refused to accept it. He said, 'You don't know what the hell you're talking about.' Lloyd said I was selfish. And in a way, I guess I was."
Sam couldn't let him think that. "You just moved to a town where you don't know a soul for the sake of those two boys. I'd call that pretty selfless."
"I was so angry at the time especially with the way Lloyd reacted. But it was when my dad suggested a conversion program that someone told him about, that's when I snapped. Then Lloyd said I could at least find out more about it, and that was it for me. The rejection from Lloyd was just too much for me to take. I cut off all contact with them. I never meant for it to be forever, but that's how it turned out. He breathed raggedly. I never saw either of them and now they're both gone, Wyatt spoke haltingly like each word hurt.
"I'm sorry," Sam said and this time he reached out for Wyatt's hand and held it.
"The way they reacted still hurts me but I also miss them," Wyatt said. "The last time Lloyd and I spoke was after our dad died, but nothing had really changed. Then we lost touch again. That's why I didn't know I was an uncle until just recently."
"They took to you fast," Sam said. He was so good with the boys. It was hard to believe he hadn't known them all their lives.
"I wasn't in touch with my family. I didn't know my brother had..." There was a catch in his throat and he couldn't say it. "I didn't know he died. I always thought we would reconnect one day, and he would be my big brother again, the one who had my back no matter what."
"I'm sure he wanted that too," Sam said. "It seems like he had a good life here. And you had a good life in Europe, right?"
"I felt free. I went there on a study abroad program, but my real reason was that I thought I could only be myself somewhere away from my father and my brother. The farther away the better. I settled down first in Milan then Vienna."
"And you liked it there?"
"I did, and I felt I could really breathe. Like I didn't always have to fight just to be myself. But now I'm back here." Wyatt shook his head and looked around him in dismay. "I'm still shell-shocked. Every day I ask myself how did I end up with two dogs and two kids? Could this really be my life?" Wyatt then looked at Sam like he might have the answer.
Caught up in his deep, blue eyed gaze, Sam was telling himself that he should be leaving, but he wasn't actually moving off the couch where he was sitting, leaning into one corner while Wyatt took up the other. They were facing each other but they weren't sitting that close. It still felt too close to Sam. Too dangerous.
The feeling that kept him here now wasn't a warm glow like before. It was a painful ache like every inch of him knew it would hurt to tear himself away from Wyatt though all they were doing was talking quietly. The conversation had turned to cooking.
