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Remi
I endup coaching the soccer game. Adam Wells, the team’s usual coach, begged me. He told me that his son, along with the rest of the kids on the Bears, haven’t stopped talking about Coach Remi and his “freaking awesome ball tricks.” After a five-to-two win tonight… well, I’ll be coaching Monday evening’s game too.
On the way home from the game, the boys talk me into grabbing pizza from the same place we got it last week because it “totally rocked.” I’m a sucker for pizza, and apparently also for Jared and Tommy, so it was easy for them to get me to yes.
Tara meets us at the door. “My hero! You took the boys to soccer and brought dinner.”
“It was nothing, Tara.” I glance around the apartment in search of Tristan.
“He isn’t home yet,” she says with a knowing grin. “I expect him in a few minutes.”
“Mommy, we got you a veggie pizza!”
“Wow, Tommy—just what I’m in the mood for. Now, boys, go wash your hands—with soap.” They scamper down the hall—the sooner their hands are clean, the sooner they eat.
Tara grabs plates and drinks as I set the pizzas on the table. “How’s Wendy feeling?”
“She’s okay. Sleeping again… You know, if I could get a decent job, we could save up for an air purifying system. The doctor thinks it would help her. Until then, we just keep chugging along.”
“I have a Leroy Large Space Air Purifier at my loft. I love it.” My mind shifts into helpful gear. How can I help Tara reach her goal?
“Lucky you,” she replies dryly. “Hopefully, we’ll be able to get one soon.”
The boys race back to the table and sit in what seems to be their usual places.
“Mom, you should’ve seen me boot the ball! Coach says I got major power!”
When Tara pulls slices from the pepperoni pie to serve the kids, I excuse myself. “I’ve got to wash my hands too.” Soccer is a dirty game. “Don’t wait for me to start.”
I return to the kitchen in five minutes, just as Tristan is coming through the front door.
“Uncle Tris—I was, like, the superhero of the soccer game! I scored three times!” Jared brags at top volume. The folks in the apartment next door can probably hear him.
“There are clearly two heroes in this room,” Tara adds, glancing at me.
Tristan’s gaze meets mine. “Thanks so much for taking Jared to soccer—it really helped.”
“He took me too!” Tommy exclaims, his mouth stuffed with cheese and pepperoni.
“It was fun,” I admit and fight the subsequent sappy sigh. I’m starting to feel as if I belong in this kitchen with this family, which isn’t emotionally safe at all. “Let’s eat while the pizza’s still hot.”
I sit in the chair Tara points to and watch as Tristan drops a purple-flowered backpack beside the pile of shoes near the door. Before sitting at what seems to be his usual place, he explains, “I borrowed one of Wendy’s backpacks… you know, until I get another duffel bag.”
I grab a slice of veggie pizza since the pepperoni is in high demand. “I talked to Santini in class on Wednesday. He said he was going to bring your stuff on Friday, but he didn’t.” In fact, when I asked him about it, Santini had growled, “You know what, Julian? I burned that dirty tramp’s filthy bag and everything in it.”
“No worries,” Tristan says with a small head shake. He clearly hasn’t told Tara about his misadventures with the art professor. “It’s a good thing I like purple flowers, huh?”
Tara is too busy pouring drinks for the boys to notice our stilted conversation.
I lift the can of inexpensive beer she placed in front of me and take a long swig. I’m starting to understand why Tristan took the job at Santini’s house. Life is tough here—every dime counts.
“Mom, when are we gonna get our Halloween costumes? All of the best ninja stuff is gonna be, like, totally wiped out if we wait much longer.”
“Be patient, Jared. Tris and I need a few more days to come up with the cash to pay for them.”
“My job tonight got us close to the amount we need,” Tristan adds. “Next week, we’ll go to the discount store and see what costumes are left.”
Grabbing another slice, Jared grumbles, “By then, everything good’s gonna be gone.”
“W-we are d-doing our best.” Tara’s voice shakes, and her eyes fill with tears. She’s clearly wiped out—physically and emotionally.
“I have an idea—how about Tristan and I take the kids to my loft for the weekend. That way, Tara, you can get a few solid nights of sleep,” I offer in “Remi, the do-gooder” mode.
What the fuck am I thinking? I’m supposed to be extricating myself from Tristan’s life.
“We could never ask that of you,” Tristan replies, his eyes wide with surprise.
“You didn’t ask—I offered.”
“Pretty please can we go, Mommy? I won’t drink any water before bed!”
“I swear I won’t tease Wendy or Tommy—like, not even once!”
“Well, if you take the kids, could I catch up with you all tomorrow?” Tara asks. “I’d miss them too much if they were gone for the whole weekend.”
“You can meet us tomorrow afternoon… at the Halloween Shoppe on Purchase Street.”
“Uh, I don’t think so.” Tristan’s face turns white. “We don’t shop at places like that.”
“The costumes will be a little gift—from me to the kids.”
“No. That’s way above and beyond,” he insists, though Tara’s eyes have lit up.
“How about if we make a trade—Halloween costumes in exchange for a three-hour modeling job,” I suggest. “It would be better to finish the picture I started with you in person as a model, rather than by looking at your picture on my phone.”
“I think that could work.” He breathes a sigh of relief. “Sure, it’s a deal.”
“Yes!” Jared pumps his fist. “I’m gonna have the best costume at the school parade!”
Tommy gets out of his chair to high five me. “Dude, you so don’t suck.”
“Tommy, you’re too young to start talking like your big brother. And I thought you were the naughty word policeman,” Tristan reminds him patiently.
“My bad.”
