Chapter 11
Max
Saturday morning finds me standing on Jess’ doorstep, waiting for her to answer my knock.
I’ve gone over what I want to say a thousand times in my mind this week. The last thing I want to do is blow up at her and make things worse.
The more I’ve thought about it all week, the more certain I am that I can’t live with the thought of only seeing Gigi two months of the year. I don’t know what the solution is, but I absolutely can’t live that way.
The door opens, and I find myself looking at a well-coiffed, dark haired man. It’s a Saturday morning at eight o’clock, but he’s clearly showered, shaved, and carefully chosen his clothes for the day. If I were at home, I’d still be in my pajamas.
“You must be Mark?” I hold out my hand in greeting.
“I am. And I’m assuming you’re Max?”
His handshake is a little too firm—like he thinks he’s going to intimidate me. Poor guy has no idea who he’s dealing with. I squeeze back and fix him with a leveling look.
“Is Jess around? I need to talk to her for a minute before I take my daughter for the weekend.”
“Yes, come in.” He steps aside, and I enter the house.
“Daddy!” Gigi comes flying down the stairs and jumps into my arms with barely enough warning to catch her.
“We talked about this, princess. You’ve gotta give me warning before you do that, I don’t want to drop you.”
“Clay doesn’t need warning,” she argues.
“Fine, don’t come crying to me if he ever drops you.”
“Daddy,” she whines, and I chuckle.
“I have to talk to your mom real quick, why don’t you get your shoes on, and make sure you have anything you need for the weekend, and then we’ll go soon.”
I set her down and follow the sound of Jess and Mark’s voices to the kitchen.
“Can we talk for a second, Jess?”
“Of course, have a seat,” she offers, pointing at the chair opposite the one she’s sitting in at the kitchen table.
“I want us to go to mediation to work something out with Gigi.”
Jess sighs and gives me a pitying look.
“Max, I know I should’ve handled it differently rather than just springing it on you. But, there are no good compromises. I’m willing to give you Christmas and Spring break in addition to her Summer breaks from school. I don’t see what more I can do aside from that.”
“And what about in a few years when she has friends she doesn’t want to be away from all summer?” I challenge, my throat tight and my fists clenching in frustration. “She’s my daughter; you can’t just take her from me like this.”
“I’m not trying to take her from you. I wish Mark and I didn’t have to move, but life doesn’t always work out the way you plan. I’m sorry, but we are moving to New York, and Gigi is coming with us.”
My chest heaves with restraint. My brain recognizes the rationality of everything Jess is saying, but my heart won’t accept it. I can feel my baby girl slipping through my fingers. Sure, maybe I’ll get all her school breaks for the next year or two, but before long, she won’t want to leave her friends she’ll make in New York, and then when will I see her? It’ll just be a phone call once a month.
“Daddy, what’s wrong?” Gigi asks, coming into the kitchen and stopping in her tracks when she sees how upset I am.
“Nothing, princess,” I assure her with a smile, forcing my rampaging emotions down to be dealt with later. “You ready to go?”
“Yeah,” she nods, holding up her pink backpack to show me she’s got everything she needs.
“See you Monday after school, sweetie,” Jess says, pulling Gigi into a hug.
“Call me if you need anything, Max, or if you want to continue this conversation later.”
I grunt and nod, not trusting myself to speak to Jess when my emotions are this close to the surface.
Clay
I pull a tray of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies out of the oven a few seconds before the front door opens, and Gigi comes barreling into the kitchen.
“Whoa, hold on tornado child,” I warn when she reaches for a cookie. “They’re still hot; you’ll have to wait a few minutes.”
Her face falls, and I have to admit, the girl’s got a killer puppy dog face.
“Do I smell cookies?” Max asks, coming into the kitchen with a boyish, hopeful smile.
“Yes, but they just came out of the oven, so you need to wait a few minutes.”
Max’s face falls in the same way Gigi’s did and my heart warms. Those two are too damn cute for words.
“If you want, G, I’ll paint your nails while you wait for the cookies to cool?”
“I don’t like nail polish anymore,” she informs me in a haughty tone.
“Oh, well excuse me,” I return her tone, and Max grins at us.
“Can I go play on my tablet for a little while?” she asks her dad.
“Sure thing, princess.”
Gigi races off, and I start to clean up the mess I made while preparing the cookies.
“I talked to Jess,” Max says, his tone dejected, which makes me want to hug all his problems away.
“She didn’t agree to mediation?”
“She said it wouldn’t change anything. My brain knows she’s right, but what am I supposed to do? I can’t lose Gigi.”
“I know.” I crouch down beside Max, sitting in a chair at the kitchen table. “There has to be a solution. We’ll figure this out.”
Max doesn’t look convinced, but he nods and then pulls me into a hug that surprises as much as it pleases me. I don’t understand what’s been going on with him the past few days. But he’s my best friend, and I’m going to help him figure all this stuff out.
Max
The weekend passed uneventfully, and I gave Gigi an extra hug Monday morning before Clay took her to school.
Ever since my conversation with Jess, I’ve been restless and agitated, and I’m certain it has everything to do with how helpless this situation has made me. My daughter is slipping away, and there’s no way I can hang on to her.
“Hey bro, my friend Ace was asking about you,” Tony tells me when I walk into the shop Wednesday morning.
“What about?”
“He saw your Tumblr page with the classic bikes you restore. He’s got a motorcycle shop; they repair classics and build custom,” Tony explains.
“Oh yeah, where at?” I ask, my interest more than piqued. That sounds like exactly the kind of place I’ve been dreaming of working.
“Out in Philly.”
I roll my eyes at my brother.
“Thanks for getting my hopes up for nothing, dude.” I shoot him the finger and then shoulder past him to get to work.
On the bright side, I have my tattoo to look forward to this afternoon.
◆◆◆
I show up at Heathens still sweaty and greasy from work, but I figure Royal won’t mind too much. I meant to go home and shower first, but I got absorbed rebuilding an engine and lost track of time.
Nox is sitting at the front desk when I walk in.
“Hi, Max. Royal’s waiting for you, you can head straight toward the back; his studio is the second on the left.”
“Thanks.” I give him a friendly nod and head in the direction he indicated.
“Hey, man,” Royal greets me with a pat on the shoulder. “I’ve got everything all set for your tat. I just need to know where we’re putting this beauty.”
I glance at the image Royal created for me after I sent him an email about what I was looking for. And tears well up in my eyes.
I’d been planning to get a tattoo of Gigi’s baby footprints since she was born, but now seems like the perfect time.
“Over my heart,” I tell him without hesitation.
“Cool, lose the shirt and we’ll get started.”
I strip my t-shirt over my head and toss it on a nearby chair.
“Damn, all that manual labor has done you a lot of favors,” Royal comments, not bothering to hide his perusal of my bare chest and abs. I blush and squirm a little under his gaze.
“Babe, I thought we talked about this. You're not supposed to hit on straight boys; it scares them,” Nash admonishes from the doorway of Royal’s workspace.
“Hey, it worked on you,” Royal argues with a smirk.
“But I wasn't straight, I just didn't know I was bi yet at the time.”
That grabs my attention. I can't imagine going from not knowing you like guys to being in a relationship with two men at once.
“How does that work, exactly? You never once thought about a guy sexually, and then one day you just woke up and hopped in bed with two of them?”
Royal and Nash both laugh. “Yup, he just climbed right in there.”
“Not exactly,” Nash corrects. “I think it wasn’t part of myself that I was ready to acknowledge before then, but in hindsight, there were clues that I was attracted to men, specifically to Royal. At the time, I guess I saw it as normal affection for my best bro? It sounds absurd now because it should’ve been a major red flag that I consistently chose hanging out with Royal over dating and getting laid.”
“Huh.” I keep my face carefully neutral, but inside my head, my thoughts are raging. Why does Nash’s story have to hit so close to home? Am I bisexual? I certainly have feelings for Clay, as difficult as they’ve been to process.
“Mind if I sit in here while Royal works? I get lonely in my workspace all by myself.”
“That’s fine.” My mind is running over everything Nash just said and slowly slotting pieces into place.
“So, you’re bi, too Royal?” I ask as Royal whips out a razor and starts to shave a patch on my chest to work.
“Yup. I’m more into guys, though. Which I think is why I realized it a lot sooner than Nash. He mostly likes women, so his attraction to men was easy for him to overlook for a long time.”
I hum in response, too many emotions swirling through me to sort out.
I can feel Nash’s eyes on me, studying my face. I wonder what he’s finding there. Is it written all over my expression that I’m confused, afraid, and maybe a little hopeful?
“It was confusing as hell at first,” Nash goes on. “I’d always loved Royal as a friend, so it wasn’t a difficult adjustment to realize I loved him in even more ways. But it surprised the hell out of me to realize how attractive I found Zade. That’s what really threw me, if I’m being honest.”
I swallow hard and nod. “Were you worried at all that you were wrong about your attraction? Like, what if you thought you were into Royal and Zade and then you made a move and realize it didn’t do anything for you? That would ruin a friendship, don’t you think?” I ask, certain Nash and Royal will both see through my convoluted question.
“Yeah, I was nervous as hell,” Nash says. “But there gets to be a certain point where the attraction is undeniable. I just had to look past my own preconceived ideas and fears, and then I knew without a shadow of a doubt.”
My gut tightens, and my heart races in my chest. Could I look past my own expectations and fears to see if what I feel for Clay could be real, be more?
I can’t find any words to respond as Royal presses the outline to my skin and then gets to work, inking my baby’s footprints permanently over my heart.
Over the next few hours while he works, I observe Royal and Nash together. Every look they cast in each other’s direction, the little jokes they share together, and the look on both their faces when they talk about their other man, Zade. All of it adds up to one undeniable truth.
I want what they have.
I want someone who completes me the way they complete each other. I want someone who puts that kind of smile on my face. I want someone to love and cherish. And if that person just so happens to be Clay, should I risk letting that slip through my fingers just because he’s not what I expected?