Keep Swimming (12 page)

“I don’t know there’s anything to do.”

“
How can that be?”

“
Heath, man, you can’t make him not be weird about this stuff. He’s been super understanding about the closet issue, but he’s been surrounded by your ex-fucks. I don’t get the weirdness, I’m just not jealous like that, but I think that’s something he’d need to work out for himself. And so long as you’re in the closet and your buddies are bringing around roughneck groupies you’ve used hard and put up wet, he’s going to have a hard time.”

Heath snarled. “What the fuck do I do about that, though? I have bills to pay. I’m close, but not close enough, to being able to quit the roughnecking.”

Kyle grimaced. “Yeah, and we didn’t get the Conklin contract so it’s not the best time for you to quit if you insist on not bringing in business partners.” They’d had that disagreement several times. He was close enough to paying off his second investment, the
Keep Swimming
, and he’d bought Kyle's boat free and clear. He didn’t want to be beholden to anyone. This was his dream and he could do it on his own.

“
This is why I didn’t date, you know. Before, I didn’t answer to anyone, I didn’t have to worry about shit. I just worked, paid off my boat, fucked who I wanted, and got to live the dream.”

“
Yes,” Kyle said. “Very mature of you.”

Heath glanced at his friend. “What makes you the authority on maturity?”

“Well, I know I wouldn't give up someone I love because I want to hold on to the same priorities I’ve had since I was fifteen.”

“
What the fuck does that mean?” Heath snapped.

“
Heath, for fuck's sake!” Kyle sat up and looked Heath in the eye. “You are the bachelor type. I get it. Your priorities are 'Heath, the
Keep Swimming
, and Heath.' There’s nothing wrong with that.”

Heath reeled back. “Is that what you really think?”

Kyle looked at Heath like he was the dumbest person he’d ever seen. “That’s not what I
think
. That’s what you’ve said. I just quoted
you
, verbatim.”

Heath blinked, then looked down, eyes wide as he stared without focus and peeled at the label on his beer. Had he really said that?

“Heath, there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re not a jerk. You help anyone out when they need it. When I finished school you gave me this job. You just aren’t cut out to focus all of your energy on another person. That’s why you’ve not dated, that’s why you didn’t want kids. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with it. Better to be honest than bring some kid into the world you can’t be there for. That’s why so many kids are fucked up these days.”

Heath looked up, vision blurry—
dammit
—
and let out a shaky breath. “But I want more than that. I want Cary. And Gus. I want to matter to them.”
Holy shit.
When had that happened? When had he not realized they were important to him and he wanted to be just as important to them. When had he been blindsided by those two?

He knew, though. It’d been that first trip on the boat. He remembered the fleeting thought that he would sell all his worldly possessions if it meant a lifetime of days like that one day. He hadn’t been looking for it, didn’t need to be fixed or changed, didn’t require a family or love to survive. But now he’d had it and he wanted to keep it. He fucking wanted it and he wanted it with Cary and Gus Whitmore.

Kyle said Heath’s name and he realized it must not have been the first time. “What are you thinking, buddy?” Kyle asked.

“
I’m thinking…” Another shaky breath. “I fucked up.” A tear slid down his cheek. That could stop any time now, so far as Heath was concerned.

“
Well, only way to un-fuck it, assuming it’s not too late, is priorities, my man.”

“
But how do you give up on everything you’ve wanted for so long?”

“
First, you grow up and accept that you have to sacrifice some stuff to have other stuff. Or alter the plans a little. That's called 'being an adult.' How you do it is up to you and I refuse to help you figure it out any more than I have. This is your mess. I’ll support you any way I can, but I can’t pick this shit up for you. I’ve got my own messes to clean up.” The hurt in Kyle’s voice when he said the latter gave Heath pause.

“
Do, uh, you need to talk about anything?” Heath asked, knowing he sounded stiff; uncomfortable with all the emotions in the room, but he would help if he could. Kyle had just helped a lot, even if Heath didn’t know how he was going to accomplish what he wanted just yet.

Kyle punched Heath’s shoulder lightly. “Don’t sprain anything trying to be supportive, big guy.”

“No, really,” Heath said, feeling like an absolute dick now.

“
I’m just fucking with ya. I’m fine, really. Just been having some man troubles, but they're over.” Another breakup then. Kyle tended to be unlucky in love, or not trying at all, rarely finding a middle ground. “I'm good at
giving
advice. Taking my own has never been my strong-suit.” Kyle’s pensive gaze never left Heath’s face. “Remember, though, if this doesn’t work out, you’ve got me and Becca who love you. There’ll be another person one day, maybe not with a kid like Gus but you’re not gonna die.”

“
I know that. I guess, for the first time in my life, I just hope I haven’t lost someone. It’s new… and stop gloating,” he said at the smugness he saw on Kyle’s face.

Kyle stood from the bed, gathering beer bottles. Heath didn’t know what he was feeling quite yet but he had shit to do and decisions to make. No way he could stay in the bed all day. He could be sad today, but everything would be okay.

Cary was earning his 'World’s Best Dad' coffee mug today. Doggy day was canceled because Celine was having someone come in to do some sort of chemical disinfecting that she’d insisted Gus didn’t need to be around. He secretly suspected Heath was probably one of the people helping out and she was trying to either interrogate him on her own or just didn’t want Cary do have to see him only three days after… the incident. That’s what he’d taken to calling it. Calling it 'the incident' kept his brain from drawing a vivid mind-picture of the night as often.

So to make up for doggy day, Cary dragged out the garden hose and doused Gus’s favorite outside area, the one that was nothing but mud after a heavy rain. Since he was planning such a filthy play time in advance, he’d been able to at least make sure they were in swim trunks and old t-shirts beforehand.

“
Daddy, where does mud come from?” Ah, yes. And Gus had moved into the 'question everything' phase. Cary hadn’t even noticed when it happened, but now there was every question from “why is the sky blue” to “do we believe in God?”.

“
Well, mud is dirt that got wet. I’m pretty sure I’ve told you that.”
Six times.

“
Yes, but where does the dirt come from?” Gus never looked up from the mud castle he was making with his sand castle buckets.

Erm.
“Uh, if I remember right, it’s from all the things that died and decomposed.” No point having the death conversation yet. Cary didn’t even care if it made him a wimp, no way was he going there, at least not today.

Gus cocked his head, brow furrowed as he looked up at his father. “What’s decomposed?”

“Uh,” well, what the heck was it? He knew, but not like he could define it. It just was. “Hey, look! Your castle is falling on that one side!”

“
Oh, no,” Gus said, and went back to work. Thank God for a child’s tiny attention span. “Daddy, look!” Gus slipped as he tried to stand and Cary laughed as the boy’s flailing feet struggled for purchase on the slippery ground.

“
It might help if you’d use your hands.”

“
I’ll lose him!”

“
Lose who?” Cary asked, warily, sliding on his butt over to help Gus roll to sitting. Gus beamed as he opened his small fist, but Cary’d already seen what was squirming in his hand.

“
Oh, yay!” Cary put as much enthusiasm in his voice as he could, but it was a struggle to get excited over an earthworm, especially one Gus had accidentally squished when he’d fallen. “Why don’t you put him back in the mud, huh?”

“
Can I keep him?”

“
No.”

“
Daddy, please.” And there went the fluttering of pleading eyelashes.

“
No, absolutely not. He has a family in there and they’d miss him, Gus. Please, put him back.”
Please.
Then Gus’s became very solemn, jarringly so. Cary tried wiping his hands on his pants but they were muddy enough it was an exercise in futility.

“
They miss him like I miss you when you’re at work?” Gus asked.

“
Worse, like he was gone forever. They wouldn’t know where he went.” Gus’s expression grew clouded, a new one for the little guy. “Hey, munchkin, what’s wrong?” Cary stroked a muddy finger up and down Gus’s back.

“
Is Heaf gone forever?”

Cary sucked in a breath. The surprisingly simple question was enough to bowl him over, especially since Gus seemed to be so miserable over the possibility. Cary didn’t know how to answer. He was sure if he called Heath to come see Gus, he would without question. He’d never not let them see each other, he’d said that from the first moment he introduced Heath into their lives outside the kennel.

And oh crap, Gus hadn’t seen Heath in at least a month.

“
I’ll call him, okay? Maybe he can come say hi?”

Gus’s gave one of his signature smiles, one that made Cary’s heartstrings all wobbly. All teeth, this grin, cheeks pushing his eyes closed and dimples popping. Cary picked Gus up, the mud on both of them getting everywhere as he bear hugged his son.

“Algae eater kisses!” Gus said, excitedly, muddy hands planted on both of Cary’s cheeks and kissing him everywhere. Algae eater kisses: wet, sloppy Gus kisses on the cheek that required sticking out his tongue.

“
Gross!” Cary bellowed teasingly as he tickled Gus.
No, really… gross.
Not the kisses, Gus did those all the time, but the fact the boy was getting mouthfuls of mud and didn’t seem to care.

“
Oh, where did I go wrong with you, my son?” Cary asked, dramatically as he put Gus back down on his own feet. Gus shrugged, probably because he didn’t get it, and started kicking over his mud castle.

“
Snack time?” Cary asked. Gus bounced a couple of times, nodding and saying, "Yes, Yes, Yes
.
" Before darting for the porch.

“
Crap!” Cary realized he probably shouldn't have set Gus down before asking that. He ran, trying to catch Gus before he opened the door, but no such luck. Muddy hand prints were clear on their once pristine white front door and muddy splats from little feet tracked across the floor into the kitchen. “Thank God for hardwood,” Cary mumbled, his spirit too light to be annoyed.

After washing both their hands, Cary put a towel at the kitchen table and cut up an apple and put it on a plate with string cheese. He left Gus to devour his snack while he wiped off the front door, which he left open so he could make sure the tiny creature from mud lagoon didn’t go painting the walls with his muddy backside.

He smiled as he watched Gus bobbing his head side to side, humming to himself. The tune was familiar, but he couldn’t place it. He was just happy to see his son so content. Nothing did Cary’s soul good as much as that little boy being happy.

Heavy footsteps thudded up the stairs to the porch, drawing Cary’s attention. He blinked, wondering if maybe he was just spacing out and daydreaming. No, it was Heath, standing there in jeans, work boots, and an old t-shirt. Cary wanted to smile at him, pull him in for a kiss and ask him how his day was going. But his brain immediately rebelled against the thought, heart aching just looking at the man.

Heath’s smile was reticent, shy, maybe even a little sad, but it was there. “Hi,” he said.

“
Hey,” Cary said, feeling a little breathless and wanting to kick himself for it. But damn that beloved face was a sight for sore eyes.

“
You boys been muddin’?” Heath asked, laying his southern accent on thickly, teasing.

Cary looked down at himself and laughed when he saw the mud caked on his lower body. “Yeah. Had to do something special since we couldn’t go to the kennel today.”

Heath rubbed the back of his neck in a move uncharacteristically self-conscious, strange to see from such a big man. “We got the big-time disinfecting done so y’all should be good next week.” Heath dropped his arm and nodded toward Cary. “I’d hate for you to have to keep playing in the mud, what with your delicate sensibilities and all.”

Cary chuckled and tossed the sponge he’d been wiping the door with at Heath, which Heath dodged with ease. He had to restrain himself again from running over to Heath because he wasn’t sure whether he’d punch him or kiss him. Neither option seemed wise, so he just stood there.

Finally he asked, “Wanna come in? The little guy was asking about you. He, uh…” Cary swallowed around the lump in his throat. “He misses you.”

Heath went pale for a brief second, looking like the words had been a physical blow. Cary wasn’t trying to make Heath feel bad. His and Heath's problems weren't between Heath and Gus, Cary wouldn’t take it out on them if he wanted to see the boy. “I don’t say that to make you feel bad. He just… You know, I didn’t introduce you as my boyfriend and that was because we were all friends; me, you, and Gus. I won’t be a jerk… I mean, if you
want
to see him.”

“
Of course I do. That’s actually one of the reasons I came over. I asked Celine and she said she thought you’d be fine with it. I didn’t want to just show up, but I head out for my two weeks day after tomorrow so I figured if nothing else I’d say hey to you, see how you’re doing.”

Cary didn’t even have the energy to get into that so he gave a pained smile and walked inside. After a beat, heavy footsteps followed him. Gus looked up just in time, bound of his chair and yelled “Heaf!”

Damn those T-Hs!

A split second too late Cary’s eyes widened and he tried to grab his son, but the little boy had already landed in the big man’s arms. Heath had taken a knee, so the muddy, giggling little boy folded right into his arms. Cary’s legs didn’t want to hold him as he watched Gus excitedly babble about the earth worm and where mud came from.

“I’ll go run a bath for him.” Cary’s chest tightened, his breathing becoming impossibly labored, painful. “You guys catch up,” Cary said hoarsely. Heath’s sad gaze met Cary’s over Gus’s head and he gave an understanding dip of his head.

Cary wandered down the hall to the bathroom, turning the knobs in the tub to find the right temperature. He put some bubble-gum scented soap in the water, knowing bubbles would make Gus more agreeable to bathing. Then he sat with a thud on the toilet. Thank goodness the lid had been down because he’d have fallen right in for all the attention he'd paid to what he was doing.

Get it together. Breathe.

He let himself take a brief second to shudder, not crying, but letting the frustration and sadness caused by seeing Heath again overwhelm him briefly. Then he stood.
Be sad today, but it’s gonna be okay
. He kept repeating the mantra in his head as he looked at himself in the mirror. He gave himself a reassuring nod, then turned off the running water after making sure there was enough in the tub.

When he went back into the living room, Gus had three books with muddy handprints scattered in front of Heath who sat on the floor, nodding with a very serious expression as he followed along with Gus’s explanations of God, the universe, and Cheetos.

“Okay, Gus. Bath time.”

Gus’s chin wobbled.

“No sir. Bath time. Don’t even.”
Please. Not right now.

Gus pulled out his newest thing, something Cary had forgotten he needed to thank Savannah profusely for; a very put-upon sigh. “Heaf, I be right back!” And he jumped up, running toward Cary. Cary tried to hide his snicker when Heath looked down at his muddy white t-shirt. When Heath looked back at him, he just shrugged nonchalantly.

He made sure Gus was actually bathing, but was shooed away with an "I can do it!" And he really could. He may still be tiny, but Cary’s baby was old enough to bathe himself and not drown. And wasn’t that a kick to the nads.

“
Okay. I’ll check in five minutes. I’m helping with your hair, no arguments.” No way was he trusting Gus with
that
particular mess. Cary gathered up the muddy trunks and shirt and dropped them in the washing machine on the way back down the hall.

Heath was standing next to the front door, hands in his pockets, scuffing his boots on the floor. His head came up, though, when Cary walked in. They stood across from one another, staring for a long moment. Neither said a word, just letting the lingering sadness permeate the air around them. Cary honestly couldn’t handle much more. He appreciated Heath coming by, making the effort for Gus’s sake, but he really couldn’t do this, this silent standoff.

So he made up his mind not to do it anymore. He finally shook himself mentally and took a step toward the kitchen.

“
Wait.”

He paused, breathing deeply before he turned back to Heath. “Yes?” He tried to keep his tone light, but knew impatience tinged his tone.

“Thank you.” Heath shuffled from foot to foot. Cary couldn’t get over the difference between the rakish, confident man he’d met many months ago, the one who’d taken him, wrapped his arms around him and made Cary his, and this bashful person who was obviously unsure of himself.

“
For?” Cary was honestly lost.

“
For letting me see Gus.”

Cary scowled. “I’d never take our mess out on him.”

“I know, that’s not what I was saying. I just… Thank you. For letting me say good bye.”

Cary waved Heath off and went into the kitchen. “If you want to see him whenever you’re off, I’m always cool with you stopping by. And we’ll be at the kennel.” Heath was trustworthy where Gus was concerned, of that he had no… Wait, maybe he should say that? He turned and for the first time he saw what a gentle giant Heath was, rough around the edges but soft inside. The man was really affected by this whole thing having blown up in their faces.

“Heath, I trust you with Gus. I know you wouldn’t hurt him, okay? Don’t ever be afraid to ask to see him. He needs all the family he can get.”

Heath bowed his head, sadly this time. “I’m leaving.” Then he met Cary’s eyes. “I’ll Skype. If he needs anything let me know,” he rushed to say. “But, I’m leaving.”