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River frowns at his dad. “Dad, have you looked up the group I told you about?” I wonder what group he’s talking about.
Luke shrugs, looking a little uncomfortable. “I don’t know, Riv. I don’t think that group is meant for me.”
“It’s not a grief group, Dad. It’s more of a social club.” Luke’s eyes bounce around to all of the guests at the table who are all focused on the conversation. He’s clearly a little uncomfortable with discussing this in front of all of us.
Realizing this, Dad turns toward Luke. “So what’s your favorite memory of your kids growing up?”
River and Essie groan, River dramatically banging his head against the dining room table. “Ok, now I have to hear this story!” I grin, leaning closer to Mr. Simmons, desperate for information on the man I care a lot about.
Mr. Simmons smirks, his eyes full of mischief, and oh boy, this is going to be a good story. “Ok, so it was the first vacation I took with the kids on my own.” He pauses for a moment, squeezing Essie’s hand. Cooper takes River’s hand and smiles sympathetically. Lake hasn’t spoken about his mother much, but I learned back when I was in stalker mode that his mom passed when he and River were eleven.
Mr. Simmons clears his throat. “Anyway, I decided to take the kids down to the shore in Jersey for a few days. We all needed to get away for a bit, you know. Anyway, one morning, we’re at the beach, and before the trip, I had been working 60-80 hour weeks, so I'm exhausted, right, and before I know it, I pass out on my beach chair.” Luke chuckles. “Burnt the hell out of myself too. Well, anyway, the boys knew not to go in the water or to let Essie go in the ocean when I wasn’t with them, but I guess they were bored.” Even River has gotten into the story. I guess just seeing his dad’s eyes light up with joy as he talks about his kids is enough to get over the embarrassment.
“So, like a couple hours later, I finally wake up, and at first, I can’t find the kids at all. I go into sheer panic mode, screaming their names like a banshee. Then all of a sudden, little preteen River pops up a little way down the beach. He’s beet red and so excited as he comes running up to me. ‘Dad! Dad! Come see what we did!’” River groans again, his cheeks as red as his hair, but he’s smiling as Mr. Simmons continues.
“River takes my hand and drags me down the beach. There I see little Essie using this giant bucket, and I still have no idea where they got it. She has it filled to the top and is dumping on what I first thought was just a giant pile of sand. Well, no. It turns out that underneath that mountain was Lake.”
We all gasp, but River quickly adds, “His face was uncovered! We weren’t trying to kill him!”
Mr. Simmons smiles fondly at his son. “No, but there’s so much sand; I had a panic attack that it would collapse on him before we were able to get him out, not that you knew that as kids. Both of you were so proud of your Mountain Lake, as you called it.”
I’m laughing so hard tears are falling down my face. A part of me feels my heart clench, knowing that it could’ve gone wrong and Lake could’ve been seriously hurt or killed. But since the incident is in the past and everyone can laugh at it now, I can definitely find humor in it. Not to mention, the image of my serious, buttoned-up Lake completely buried in the sand is adorable.
“How did Lake feel about this? I won't lie; it’s hard to picture him enjoying that.”
River laughs. “Oh no, he was pissed. At first he reluctantly agreed, mainly because I got Essie to beg him and he could never say no to Essie back then. But after fifteen minutes, he was ready to murder me. He refused to talk to me for the rest of the trip.”
We’re all still laughing at the story when my phone finally buzzes. And thank fuck, it’s a message from Lake.I’ll be there in twenty minutes.
I must have a goofy expression on my face because River asks, “Is that one of your men?”
My eyes immediately flash to Mr. Simmons, who still hasn't mentioned anything to me, but they are still full of light and joy. No judgment or animosity is in sight.
I smile up at River. “Yup. It’s your brother. He’ll be here in twenty minutes.”
“It’s about time,” Essie mutters.
“Es, you know his job can be unpredictable sometimes,” Mr. Simmons replies, then his eyes immediately flash to mine. I can tell he doesn’t know if I know anything about Lake’s profession.
I smile warmly at them. “Lake hasn’t told us his exact job yet, but I know that he may have long and unpredictable hours or long trips he has to take at the last minute. I'm happy to wait for him.”
Mr. Simmons’s eyes narrow with concern, and oh, here comes the interrogation. “I know everything is very new right now, but that’s going to be hard on you, two men with careers that have nontraditional hours. I’ll admit, I don’t know much about editing, but I have to imagine your hours are more stable.”
It’s a valid question. “Yes, sir. They are for the most part. I do work from home quite a bit, so I’ve been known to work at night or on the weekend when I’m close to a deadline, but yes, it’s nothing like what Lake and Logan experience. And yes, it will be hard on me. I’m not going to lie about that. But I think it comes down to: do I think Lake and Logan are worth the worry and the frustration that will come with long nights waiting up for them and canceled and delayed plans? And the answer to that question is yes, I do believe they are. I know it may be crazy soon, but my feelings are strong for Lake, and I really believe this can be the real deal, for all three of us.”
Dad is smiling at me, his eyes filled with pride. River’s eyes are also shining, as well as Cooper’s, who gives me a slight nod. It’s clearly the right answer. Even Mr. Simmons seems to approve, but he’s not quite there yet. Understandable. It is his son that will get hurt if I decide all of this is too much.
“I agree that it seems to be early for you to be saying that. I know you and Logan have history, but you barely know Lake. It’s easy for you to say this now, but will you think the same thing six months down the road, or a year?”
I open my mouth to answer. It’s hard to explain, but I’m all in on both of my men. I know there’s going to be struggles and growing pains, but I’m willing to fight for them. But before I get a word out, the front door of Dad’s house opens and we all fall silent.
“Hello?” Logan calls out, and I breathe a sigh of relief. Perfect timing. I think some of Mr. Simmons’s concerns will be relieved if he hears it from both of us.
“Excuse me,” I tell the table as I jump out of my chair to grab one of my men. I hope tonight I can prove how committed I am to these men and this relationship.
TWENTY-THREE
LOGAN
