Page 97 of The New Place

Peggy pulls off the bow and opens the box. A small purple dinosaur pendent sits on a gold chain.

She stares down at it. Ned sees a smear of chocolate along her mouth still, her face completely still as she takes it in.

And then she turns around and lifts her hair up and lets Abbot clasp it around her neck, settling it carefully around her cape.

“I love you,” Abbot tells her, his voice soft, and Ned wipes at his eyes with the heel of his hand. “I hope you know that. And I’m very honored I get to be here while you grow up.”

“Okay,” she says, her chin tucked down, pulling the pendant up so she can look at it.

She drops it so it settles on its chain and hugs him quickly, her arms around his neck, then lets him go before he’s barely put his hand on her back, dashing off toward the family room.

Ned walks into where she was as Abbot stands, gathering him up and holding him tight. This is a mess. But so much of Ned’s life is, and the place it’s led is to this man, who is the absolute best thing that has ever happened to him.

22

ABBOT

Abbot leans into Ned, closing his eyes and letting himself sink into his arms.

When they finally shift, Ned finds his mouth, and Abbot kisses him back, holding him close and reveling in the feel of him, the way he fits so very right.

Ned pulls back after a long moment, his eyes wet.

Abbot touches his thumb to a tear track on his cheek. “Are you alright?”

Ned laughs and kisses Abbot’s palm. “No. Yes. Where did you even get that?”

“Well, it is a very rare fossil, so I’m not entirely sure I should answer.”

“Abbot.”

“The miniature titanosaur Patagotitan mayorum.”

Ned squeezes him. “It is not. It’s a plastic purple brontosaurus.”

“Apatosaurus.”

“Brachiosaurus, maybe.” Ned laughs again. “We know way too much about dinosaurs.”

“I can get her something nicer.”

“It’s perfect.” Ned cups his face and Abbot leans into his palm. “Abbot, I love you.”

Abbot lays his palm over Ned’s hand. How very much to try to put into words, this overwhelming feeling inside of him. To even want to. “I love you too. And your daughter.”

“Great, now I’m going to cry again,” Ned says and laughs and kisses him once more.

Abbot’s not done with their kiss, or finished holding Ned close and letting his touch say what words feel so inadequate to convey, when the TV turns on and the door to the garage opens.

Ned pulls away, pressing their foreheads together as he calls to Peggy, “No TV before dinner.”

“I’m going to have more cake for dinner,” she yells back without switching off the TV, and Dan and Cheryl come into the house, Baxter sniffing their shoes.

“I was going to make salmon,” Abbot says as he and Ned disentangle. “I brought some down. It’s in the refrigerator.”

Cheryl hangs her coat on the overfull hooks. “That sounds wonderful.”

“This is for me!” Peggy skids into the kitchen on her socks, thrusting her new necklace at Cheryl before she catches Ned’s eyes and runs back to the TV. “I have to watch this!”