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I can’t wait to see Bhodi in the morning and a little of that is knowing how much Cary means to him and that we’ll be doing it together. If I’m lucky enough to have Cary for another month, next year, or a few more after that, the one thing I want is for Bhodi to have had a taste of the perfection I did growing up. Even if it is fleeting, my son deserves to see two adults loving one another through thick and thin. Cary? He’s worth showing he can love and be loved in return. He’s been open and honest with me, and if he can do it once, he can do it again with someone else.
I won’t push Cary to tell Davina he’s sorry for his caustic remarks tonight. I’m not his mother and he needs to approach her on his own. I can only stand on the sidelines encouraging the way I’d do for any of my other closest friends.
The heat of the day finally escapes into the darkness and we are left with the damp sea salt-tinged humidity of overnight settling on our skin. Emotionally wrought out, we’re exhausted and need a rest. Though it’s well before when I’d turn in, Cary takes me upstairs to our room and we slide between the sheets.
I’m used to Cary being up by the time I’m awake, so the only unusual thing about waking the following morning is being someplace new. I find my short housecoat before padding to the third floor to join everyone, glad I haven’t slept too late. The sun streams into the open space. It’s a beautiful day.
Cary and Bhodi are bonding over bowls of cereal at the breakfast bar. Emory has Davina’s full attention on a couch. My sister sits reading nearby. When Laurel notices me, she winks and I wink back, mouthing “thank you” for her help last night. She puckers, blowing me a silent kiss.
“What are you reading, Laurel?” I ask, strolling by my men and making my presence known. I drop my lips to Bhodi’s head and then peck Cary on the cheek while he munches.
“It’s all about the Wright Brothers.”
“We’ll hit the memorial tomorrow.” Cary swallows. “The crowd should be thinner mid-week and the weather’s supposed to be great.”
“The two of you have the whole week planned before I’m even out of bed.”
“You snooze, you lose.” Laurel flips the next page.
“So what’s on tap for today?” I ask, pouring the remnants of the coffee carafe into a mug. The first sip hits my palette and I’m in heaven. “Oh my goodness, this tastes even better than smells.”
Davina turns her attention from Emory and smiles at me. Yet she doesn’t respond that she’s the one who made the pot. My cheeks bunch in appreciation. This morning could have been a huge ugly scene, and she’s being gracious about Cary’s lack of manners. I wonder if they’ve talked already, but when I look back at Cary, he’s stretching with an imperceptible shake of his head.
He places a hand on Bhodi’s shoulder, nudging my son to bring his empty bowl to the sink, and getting up from his stool.
“Here’s the deal for today; First y’all need to get dressed. Then you and me, Bhod, are taking a drive out to the fish market to get spiny lobsters for everyone for dinner.”
Bhodi’s nose wrinkles. “Fish smell.”
“So do you, but we love you anyway. And you’re going to love fish, of all kinds, once it’s buttered up. You’ll have to if we’re hanging out here more often. Spending time at the shore and not eating seafood is a sacrilege.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s like going to a baseball game and not eating ballpark frank.”
“What’s that?”
“A hot dog, dude.”
“Oooh, I get it. Like tradition.”
“In a sense… And once you have a taste for them, we can charter a boat and go diving and eat the ones we catch. Sound like fun?” Cary tugs Bhodi toward him. My son rests his head on Cary’s stomach. “When we get back with the lobsters, Aunt Laurel is bringing you and your cousin to the beach for a few hours, since Emory wants to play in the sand, and I’m taking your mom out for lunch. Just us.”
“This time.” Bhodi insists.
Then Cary does something unexpected. He snags Bhodi under the armpits and hefts him up, wrapping his arms around my son’s legs so they’re eye to eye. “When have I ever gone back on my word?”
“Never. So far…”
“So far. You wound me!” Cary tosses his head back. “Bhod, I’m always making time for you and me, know why?”
Bhodi shrugs.
“Cause you’re the reason I met your mom. That makes you top tier. You’re like my wingman. Who else can I ask for advice on what songs to play in the car that she’ll like?”
I blush, ducking my head. How did one simple application for someone to hang out with my son change our lives this much? My heart melts. I’m so in love with the way Cary loves Bhodi. How he always returns to making my little boy feel special and like he’s an essential part ofus.
Lifting my eyes, it’s hard not to see Davina watching the two of them and the wistfulness in her expression. She wanted her son to have a dad like this too.
