My eyes do the ah-ha! pop my body can’t with Joe on me like this. I whisper, “That’s why she ditched me! Took off while I wasn’t looking. That explains it! That makes so much sense! I was worried there for a second.”
“You know who else wasn’t looking?” Josh asks Will. “You at the fire. You think it stays in one place? They don’t call it flickering for nothing.”
Bennett shuts his eyes. “And they don’t call it beating a dead horse for nothing.”
Josh stiffens. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
I back Benny up, “He’s a kid, Josh. They test boundaries.”
“I’m trying to keep him safe.”
Bennett mutters, “Something you think me incapable of.”
Josh stares at him.
We can’t say — won’t say, out of kindness — that Will is not Leah, and that nothing could’ve kept her safe from what nobody saw coming.
Bennett’s gaze drops to stains you don’t wanna inspect for too long, dropping the subject.
But Elliot looks at his dad, and says to Josh in his emotionless way, “In order to be safe you have to know the danger.”
“That’s right,” Josh nods, “I’m telling him about the danger, Elliot.”
“Human beings learn by trying. Testing. Experimenting. It’s difficult to fully grasp a concept unless you’ve experienced all it has to offer, good or bad.”
Josh blinks at the ten-year-old clone of our stoic, emotionally sturdy friend, with zero comeback. Because what Elliot said made sense. In his mind-blowing way.
Will whispers, “I won’t do it again. I promise.”
Joshua pulls him close, voice hoarse with pain, “I’m sorry, Will. I can’t lose you, too, okay buddy? I need you to be careful!”
Bennett rubs his face, and looks at me like this is my fault. You should be doing a better job at getting him over this, reflected from weary eyes.
Through my nose I exhale.
Fun night.
“Hey, so Christina told her that, huh? Why?”
Benny grunts, “Because you are.”
“What’d she say exactly?”
“What is this, college again?”
“Just curious.”
“She told her not to go there, from what I gathered.”
My head loses gravity’s war. “Damn.”
Joe rouses, blinking at florescent lighting. “Are we there yet, Dad?”
“Almost home, Joe.”
“Home?”
I glance to my friends, “Josh’s place. We’re still in New York, buddy.”
He burrows into me, “Oh,” and drifts off, helped by a humming train and the secure feeling of my arm around him.
“Probably can’t stay in New York much longer.”
My friends look away from me, none of us wanting to say goodbye again. Just like a great relationship, strong friendships are hard to find. Ones that feel like family, like ours do. But being a father is my first priority, exactly as I told Bennett when I first declined his request for help. If Joe hadn’t been so excited for an adventure with his old man that didn’t involve work, we’d still be in Los Angeles. And those divorce papers would be filed.
My mom always said, Children live on the foundation we build underneath their growing wings, until it’s time for them to spread. It’s for us to decide how strong or weak that foundation is, by the choices we parents make.
He’s homesick, probably misses his mom.
“Doesn’t matter how I feel,” I say aloud to myself, turning the heads of my friends. “We live on the other side of the country. How would that work?” My gaze drops to the sleeping child I love more than myself. He snores and breaks a smile from my frown. “Wow Joe, really buddy?”
As the E train slows at our stop, Bennett stands and takes Elliot’s hand. Josh walks behind Will, guarding his exit. I lift Joe up to conk out on my shoulder, and merge with my friends and their sons into a steady clip of boots and heels ascending stairs to the well-lit neighborhood of Tribeca. Soon we’re greeted by a view of restaurants carved into renovated buildings dating back to when this was called New Amsterdam. There are some in the burroughs still standing built back when it was New Netherlands before that. But here in Tribeca, New York City, warehouses once used for textiles, dry goods, and produce storing and distribution, are now residential for the very hip.
We part ways at the corner of Hudson Street and North Moore, Will and Josh walking ahead, home so close I’m sure they can almost feel their pillows from here.
I pause. “Benny.”
Seeing that Elliot is losing steam, Bennett lifts him up, little arms clasping around his neck. “Yeah?”
“If I lived in New York, I’d see about that smile your girl made disappear.”
He adjusts his son’s weight, smirks, “I think you should,” and walks into the night.
Zia
It’s me and Noah, plus their brother, Evan, in Christina’s and Tempest’s apartment putting away what our family brought down from the roof.
Their place is typical of most New York apartments — too small to hold a lot of people but when everyone was hugging their goodbyes we pressured our brothers to help, since they didn’t last time. And that’s not cool.
Evan, art world socialite that he is, inspects what’s currently framed on the walls, “I’m going to send you a gift,” as Christina counters, “How about you gift me a hand with these pots!”
Getting closer to a small framed photo of the Brooklyn Bridge, he muses, voice far away, “You should invest in a dishwasher.”
Tempest snorts, “Oh sure. Where do we put it?”
Noah throws a bag of tied-up garbage at him. “Evan, catch!”
Spinning around and managing to look graceful as he successfully averts a mess, Evan asks, “What’s this?” turning the bag over like it’s a sculpture.
“You’ve never seen trash before?”
“I see it whenever I look at your face.”
“Ha ha,” my brother smirks. “Take it downstairs.”
“When we leave.”
“There will be more.”
“I’ve got two hands. You’ve got two hands. And look, so does Zia! Who knew?”
I laugh, “Evan, you’re a jerk, you know that?”
“I’m time efficient,” he corrects me, motioning to the four of us negotiating what feels like five centimeters of space in order to put away silverware and condiments, store unopened wine and beer for
