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As I pulled into the driveway of their home, I reached for his hand.
“Are you okay?” I asked, as I anticipated him moving away from me. Instead, he turned his hand and laced our fingers as he stared at the house. I could’ve sat there forever, holding Jax’s hand, feeling the warmth of his skin, and I hoped I was reassuring him that I would always be there for him. I took a deep breath, trying to summon the same sense of family and belonging I’d felt last Christmas. Jax’s parents had been nothing but kind to me, and I hoped they would find it in their hearts to understand Charlie’s arrival and not judge Jax’s brother too harshly, because Jax didn’t need that.
“I’m good,” he said, then turned in his seat. “Thank you, Arlo.”
“Any time.”
“No, this means something,” he said with fierce determination. “You didn’t need to cancel your date; you didn’t need to sleep over; you didn’t need to have my back, but you did.”
“Anything for you,” I admitted, and hoped it came over as buddies having each other’s back and not me suggesting otherwise.
“You’re my best friend, Arlo,” he half-whispered.
My chest tightened. “And you’re mine.”And I love you.Although I didn’t add that.
“Thank you.”
“You already said that.”
He blinked at me, the tip of his tongue tracing his lower lip. “Well, it bears repeating,” he murmured and smiled.
“Ready?” I asked as I smiled back.
“Sure,” Jax murmured, but made no move to get out of the truck.
“Do you want me to stay out here?” I asked. Despite the urge to have his back, I’d pretty much do anything to make Jax’s life easier, and if that meant sitting out here, then I would.
He turned to stare at me with comically wide eyes. “God, no.”
With that no in mind, I stepped out of the truck, unbuckling Charlie from the car seat, scooping him into my arms and getting in a quick cuddle before handing him over to Jax.
“Okay,” Jax began. “Worst case scenario, they love Charlie, because who wouldn’t love Charlie, but they talk my ear off about how Zach should never have left him. There might be disappointment. I hate it when they’re disappointed, and I know it wouldn’t be for me, but it would feel as if it was, because it’s about Zach and…”
I squeezed his shoulder as he ran out of steam. “They won’t be.”
We let ourselves in, the scent of fresh sauce filled the hallway and drew us down to the cozy kitchen where Mama Byrne was dancing and cooking all at the same time. We stood in the doorway to the kitchen, where Sinatra sang about ants and rubber plants, baby Charlie cradled in Jax’s arms, and me hovering behind.
“Mama?” Jax said over the music.
She turned and lowered the volume on the radio. “Jax! Arlo! What a wonderful surprise!” She even took a couple of steps toward us before she froze, her eyes widened, and she gasped.
She backed away from us, pivoted and went to the back door. “Ed! Get in here.”
I heard Papa Byrne’s voice from the garden, where he was always tinkering and puttering around with his greenhouse. “I’m with my tomatoes!”
“Come. In. Here.” That was Mama Byrne’s patented get-shit-done tone.
Papa Byrne was at the back door in a second, taking off gardening gloves, his skin pink from the sun. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
Mama Byrne glanced at Jax and I, and Papa Byrne grinned. “Thought I heard a truck, how are?—”
“Un bambino!” Mama Byrne interrupted.
“A baby?” Papa Byrne repeated.
“Jax?” Mama Byrne wiped her hands on a tea towel and held out her arms for Charlie. “You have another baby?”
“No, he’s not mine, Mama. This is Zach’s son. This is Charlie.”
