He gives me the pouty lip and I wished I’d been less preoccupied with the food and the guest list and more mindful of the whole reason I wanted to have the party here in the first place.
“What’s wrong, buddy?” Lane sidles up next to my chair and lowers to a squat beside Jett, a drink in hand.
“He wants me to go swimming with him, but the whole pool thing... it slipped my mind. I don’t have a suit.”
“Ah. That’s a problem, isn’t it?” Lane nods and something about the way he twists his lips and narrows his eyes immediately irritates me.
“Oh, my God, are you drunk?” It’s barely after one o’clock in the afternoon. We’ve been here for two hours.
“Nah.” He shrugs, but I’m pretty sure one shove to his shoulder would put him on his ass on the concrete. “But your old man does make one hell of a whiskey sour.”
Ugh. I’m going to kill them both.
“Forget it. I’ll see if Hannah can take him in again.”
“All right, you do that.” He stands, winks, and heads back over to the big patio table, where our parents are visiting.
We might live in the state with the highest consumption of alcohol per capita, but who gets drunk at a four-year-old’s birthday party? Seriously.
“Come on, baby, let’s go see if Auntie Hannah will go in with you.” I grab his hand and head toward Hannah and the kids, sitting on a dry side of the patio, drawing on the concrete with sidewalk chalk. Of course, we’ll have to pass Paul, Logan, and Jesse to get there, but I’ve made it through two hours without making a fool of myself, surely I can manage to walk by without doing so, too.
“Hey, bug.” Logan holds out a hand to Jett for a high five as we approach. “You just about ready to open all of those presents?”
A flicker of a smile plays on Jett’s lips, but it doesn’t quite meet his eyes. “I wanna go swimming.”
Logan chuckles. “Well, get on in there, dude.”
“He can’t go without an adult,” I say promptly, so Jett doesn’t get any ideas and launch himself in. He can tread water and float, but he hasn’t had any actual lessons and I’ve seen too many horror stories on the news to take chances.
“I’ll go in with you, little man,” Jesse speaks up, tipping back the last gulp of water in his bottle. “How about that?”
“Yay!” Jett jumps up and down and I bite my lip to keep from grinning.
“You’re a little overdressed, don’t you think?”
“At the moment, but you said this was a pool party, so I came prepared. Just gotta grab my swim trunks from the truck.”
Jesse in swim trunks. Good Lord. “Um, okay. That would be great.”
“Is there someplace I can change?” he asks, blue eyes sparkling like the water beside us.
Paul tips his head toward the house. “I’ll take you inside before I head out.”
“Thank you, Paul.” Then to Jesse, “I’ll get his floaties on.”
“Sounds good.” He winks and I have to look away before I do something stupid like touch him again. Out of gratitude, of course.
A half hour later, I’m in even rougher shape, watching them splash and play in the pool. Jett’s done nothing but giggle and make goofy faces and I realize I’ve never actually seen him and Jesse interact like this before. The bond between them is palpable and it makes my heart hurt in the best way possible. Or at least that’s what I tell myself when the tears begin to sting in my eyes.
“They’re precious, aren’t they?” Hannah says, taking a seat in the lounger next to mine and all I can do is nod. She smiles sympathetically and pats my leg. “On another note, Jesse looks fine as hell. Good thing Paul left or I’d be in trouble.”
I half snort, half choke on the lump in my throat. “Oh, my God, Hannah.”
“What?” She shrugs unapologetically. “What’s the ink on his chest?”
“Not sure.” But I definitely noticed it, just like I notice the way his arms flex when he lifts and tosses Jett around. And the way the water runs off of his ridiculously broad shoulders when he emerges from beneath the surface. “Maybe you should go in and get a closer look.”
She gives a deep, throaty laugh. “Girl, don’t tempt me.”
I grin and shake my head. “The tattoos on his forearm are for his grandparents, so I’m guessing it’s something personal, too.”
She lifts an eyebrow. “One of your many moonlit conversations?”
Heat slides into my cheeks. “Yeah.”
“Hmm.” She watches them in the water for another beat before flicking her gaze to the patio table. “Lane looks miserable right now.”
“Well, he’s wasted, so...”
“Do you blame him?”
I wet my lips and purposely keep from looking over at him. I’m not happy, but, no, I don’t blame him. I get that this is probably even more awkward for him than it is for me, but as Jett gets older, more and more of these situations are going to come up. School programs, soccer and Little League games... maybe even plays and band concerts. This is just the beginning and, while it sucks, it’s not something we can drink away.
“Here’s some unsolicited advice...” Hannah taps my knee with her fingertip. “Go talk to him. Take him inside for a few minutes and reassure him. Because if you don’t, this is going to be ten times worse later.”
She’s right again. Like always. Lane can’t drink himself into feeling better about Jesse being a part of our lives any more than I can ignore that he’s hurting. Nothing good can come from either scenario.
“Keep an eye on Jett for me?”
“I think Jesse has it under control, but yeah, I got you.”
Sighing, I get to my feet and make my way over to the table, leaning down to Lane’s ear, so as not to interrupt the others. “Can I pull you away for a few minutes?”
He shoots me a hazy sidelong glance. “Something wrong?”
“I just need a minute. Come inside with me?” I offer my hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, he takes it. Thankfully, he leaves what looks like a fresh drink on the table.
I lead him to the guest bedroom at the far end of the main level to give us privacy and close the door behind us.
“Everything all right?” he asks, sidling up to the dresser, opposite the foot of the bed, mindlessly picking up a small globe-like souvenir from one of my parents’ trips.
“Yeah, of course.” I smile, still trying to decide what exactly to say, when I spot a pile of familiar clothes on the edge of the bed.
Lane’s gaze follows and his jaw sets tight. “I’m starting to think inviting him was a bad idea.”
“I know,” I sigh. Then, “I mean, no. It wasn’t a bad idea, it’s just... we have to figure out how we’re going to get past this.”
“Past what?” he asks, dark eyes narrowed.
“Past this… awkwardness.”
“Huh.” He rolls his shoulders back slowly and lifts his chin. “You know, things would probably be a lot easier if you’d just be honest with me.”
“I have been honest with you,” I counter, frowning.