Empty Nests (30 page)

Mr. Jessup sputtered a bit and James reeled, his heart pounding.

Gabe leaned forward ever so slowly. “Come on, Bob, do the right thing.”

Before Mr. Jessup had a chance to answer, there was a tap at the door and Tamyra poked her head in. “So sorry to interrupt.” She held out a cell phone to Gabe. “You
really
need to take this, and I moved your two thirty to four thirty and your four thirty to seven tomorrow morning, but he’s not happy about it.”

“Is he ever happy?” Gabe grabbed the phone and quickly stepped from the office, mouthing a quick “Sorry” to James.

Bob turned to James, looking distantly rattled. James felt rattled himself. He’d never seen Gabe like that. Every casual-seeming move Gabe had just made must have been coldly deliberate. Was that how he acted in business negotiations? Or during a fight? Was that how Gabe fought?

“Who was that?” Bob asked one more time.

“Um… my boyfriend?”

Bob looked down at Dylan’s record and swallowed a few times. “Well, seeing as how Dylan’s never been in real trouble, if he’s willing to spend Saturday washing off some graffiti, sit through the standard conflict resolution lecture, and this doesn’t become a habit, then I don’t see why we’d need to make any more of this, really.”

“Thank you.” James didn’t let the staggering relief show on his face. Instead, he smiled politely. “Dylan will be glad to hear that, and I’ll be sure to talk to him myself.” James stood. “Do call me if there are any other problems.”

“Absolutely.”

James nodded and let himself out.

Dylan jumped up from the bench as soon as he saw James. “Dad?”

“It’s fine. You’ll need to scrub some graffiti and just don’t make a habit of it.”

Dylan did let the relief show on his face as he let out a deep breath and pulled James into a quick one-armed hug. “No problem.”

“How’s your eye?”

Dylan lowered the icepack, giving James a second look. It was going to turn solidly black and blue, he could tell already. “I’ve taken worse from a pop fly. Coach Frasier is still going to yell.”

James inspected the slight abrasions on Dylan’s knuckles. “Are your hands okay?”

Dylan smiled. “I’m fine, Dad, really.”

“Your ankle?” James asked. There was always a risk that it could go out from an old injury, which could damage his scholarship almost as badly as getting suspended.

“It’s fine. I’m fine. I swear.”

Mr. Jessup poked his head out of his office and motioned to Dylan. “Moment of your time as well?”

“I’ll see you tonight?” James asked. He knew Dylan had no plans for dates or practice that night, but he still needed to hear it.

“I’ll be there.” Dylan gave James another tight hug. “Thanks,” he whispered.

James just gave him a hug back before Dylan grabbed his bag, gave Gabe a smile and a nod, then went to talk to the vice principal himself. James turned to Gabe. He was looking at his phone but had a smile on his face. The fear and slight adrenaline dropped out of his system, replaced by anger. “I could have handled that.”

Gabe looked up. “What?”

“Dylan’s had personality clashes with teachers and some administrators. I’ve talked him out of trouble before.”

“Sorry, I just thought—”

“I can take care of my own son.” James could not count how many times he’d said those words to people who thought they were helping or were under the impression that James needed help. “Coach Frasier would have had our back, and if all else failed, I could have called Sanderson.”

“Who?”

“Steven Sanderson, our lawyer. He did Dylan’s custody pro bono.”

“Is he the guy who has those really sleazy commercials on at like two in the morning, with that annoying jingle? ‘If you’re gonna sue, sue with Sanderson’?”

“Yes, and he’s a very good lawyer.” James was always willing to defend Sanderson despite the sleazy commercials and incredibly irritating jingle. “And he probably wouldn’t have been needed anyway, and—”

Gabe put his hands up slightly. “Sorry, I just thought I could help expedite things for you.”

James felt a slight ache in his jaw from clenching his teeth. “Do you really know those kinds of PR people?”

Gabe barked with laughter. “God, no. I don’t even know if those people exist. I mean, I’m sure they do, but we don’t use them.”

James relaxed a little. It was nice to know his boyfriend didn’t associate with those kinds of people, but at the same time, he hated to think what might have happened in the vice principal had called Gabe’s bluff.

Tamyra touched Gabe’s shoulder. “Sorry, but I really need to get you going.”

“That’s what she said,” Gabe muttered quietly.

Tamyra rolled her eyes, and they quickly moved down the echoing, tiled halls, James following.

James looked over Gabe’s suit from the corner of his eye. It was a very nice suit, but still just a suit. “Did you really spend twenty-five hundred euros on that suit?”

Gabe’s look became a little shifty. “I occasionally indulge in retail therapy. I got dumped via text for a barista slash unpublished poet.”

The idea of spending what amounted to several months of James’s pay on clothes simply wouldn’t compute. The closest he’d ever came to retail therapy was a Freight and Salvage’s open mic night, and that came to all of eight dollars.

The rich really did live in a completely different world.

T
HE
MACARONI
and cheese bubbled as James pulled it out of the oven. It wasn’t exactly the healthiest meal—or the cheapest when made with real cheese—but it was first-class comfort food, and James thought he and Dylan could use a bit.

The heat had started to bite through the thin hot pads when he heard Dylan come in. “Dylan!” he called out as he quickly placed the mac and cheese on the table, his fingers starting to burn.

Dylan came in, following his nose. “Oh, that smells nice.”

“Thought we could both use it.”

James looked Dylan over. The bruise started at his eye and went all the way down his cheek. He could easily see the outline of a fist, and it was going to be impressive by the next morning. His right hand had swelled slightly, but thankfully he didn’t have a game that weekend.

James had spent the rest of the day trying to think about what happened from every possible angle. And in between the tangle of emotions, he managed to come to one solid conclusion.

He put his hands on Dylan’s shoulders. “Dylan, I want you to know that I’m proud of you.”

“Dad—”

“No, I’m serious. You put yourself in danger to stop something that you knew was wrong. It says a lot about your character as a young man. And I am proud of you.”

Dylan dipped his head. “I had a good example.”

James lowered his head as well. “Okay, enough mushy stuff. Get some plates.”

Dylan went to the counter and pulled a couple of plates from the drying rack by the sink. “So, I heard from Mrs. Anders, the secretary, that Gabe completely trampled Mr. Jessup, scared the shit right out of him.”

James cleared his throat a bit. He did not need to get a reputation for hardball tactics or relying on a rich boyfriend to get Dylan out of trouble for something James could have managed on his own. “Well, he does make a living negotiating things.”

“No shit. Hey, I don’t suppose you know anything more about that Russian deal he’s working on?”

“No.” James tried not to snap, but it still came out a bit hard. “And if I did, I’m sure he wouldn’t want me spreading it around to gossipy teenagers.”

Dylan raised his hands in quick surrender. “No problem. I will try not to let my serious curiosity get in the way of your good time.”

“Thank you.”

James phone bleeped. He was pretty sure he had it set to chirp when a text came in, but randomly shifting ringtones was one of the more interesting “features” of his awful phone.

Hi. Sorry for butting in earlier. Hope Dylan’s OK. Dinner on Friday? Know a good Thai place.

“Gabe?”

“Yeah, he’s just checking in.”

“Attentive boyfriends are good things. As I’ve had several girlfriends tell me.”

An unpleasant feeling reemerged at Dylan’s words.

Dylan’s fine. Free this Friday.

James didn’t look up from his phone. “Just eat your dinner.”

A
DA
M
ARIA
S
OTO
is a born and raised Californian Mexican-American currently living as an expat in the South Pacific with her toddler and partner.

She has studied and worked in theater, film, and television with all the usual crummy side jobs of a struggling artist. She has dysgraphia and phonological dyslexia but refuses to let that slow down her writing.

She is a sports fan dedicated to the Oakland A’s, San Jose Sharks, Auckland Blues, USA Eagles, New Zealand All Blacks, New Zealand Black Caps, and the Chennai Super Kings.

She loves to hear from her fans, or really anyone who has read her work.

Website: https://adamariasoto.com

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Eden Springs

By Ada Maria Soto

In the boomtown of Eden Springs, someone is spilling the blood of children. Desperate, the sheriff calls in ex-Union scout Aaron Byrne to stop them. For the lawman for hire, it’s just another job—until he meets Jonah Mann, the town’s Oxford-trained astronomer-cum-schoolteacher.

Aaron never stays in one place for long, but a few stolen glances from the eccentric professor begin to test his resolve to move along once the job is done. Now a telescope, a whorehouse bathtub, and a cup of Chinese tea could change Aaron’s own stars forever.

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