Demetrius, page 5
He didn’t respond, expression twisted and weary.
Shit!
Maybe I asked something I shouldn’t have. I never rambled like that and was usually much more direct. I feared I was picking up Miguel’s bad habits.
“I don’t have any kids. But I’d love to take you two there.”
All I could do was nod, texting Meechie not to walk home from school, before putting the directions to Gaynor Elementary into Google Maps, placing it on the dashboard so Miguel could get there.
I wasn’t stepping on that landmine, the reason he didn’t have kids. Miguel could simply not want them, or it could be something much worse. So I focused on the long stretch of road between Winchelsea House and my son’s school instead.
When we arrived, Meechie was already waiting by the side of the road, wearing yet another oversized hoodie, this one jet black, in this hot-as-Satan’s-toenails heat. And then he had the audacity to wear shorts and sandals with socks. I was starting to believe he was immune to the changing weather.
“How was your day?” I asked as he climbed into the backseat. He struggled a bit, the truck being twice the size of my Honda Civic. RIP.
“Okay. I was able to join the soccer team. And art class was fun,” he said, his eyes on the back of Miguel’s head as he pulled off. “Are we going to that festival?”
I wanted to say stop being rude, but Miguel took it in stride, grinning as he peeked at him through the back mirror. “Your dad didn’t tell you?”
“Well, Mr…” I drifted off as Miguel shot me a strange look, and I realized I didn’t know his last name. “Miguel is taking us to the Autumn Festival.”
“Hmmm…” My son seemed to ponder over his words for a while before shrugging. “Cool.”
It was a better response than I expected. I wondered why Miguel knew so much about it. He said he didn’t grow up here, and I doubted a single man would willingly go to such a family-friendly, PG-focused event like that willingly.
Which, again, was strange, seeing as he didn’t have kids. Maybe he had a sister or brother and took his nieces and nephews every year. I had to believe so, not sure if it was my place to ask.
Recently, I’d been on the receiving end of innocent questions that hit on some deep-seated frustrations. So I figured I’d keep things light and airy, much like Miguel’s personality, as we hit the road.
Once we arrived, I was pretty surprised by what I saw. I expected a rinky-dink little pumpkin patch with some overworked food vendors and a hay ride or two. Instead, it was a fun mix between a carnival, a county fair, and a city-sponsored “not-Halloween-in-name” party.
And my son seemed to feel the same. He pulled out his headphones, wide eyes scanning the fairgrounds with excitement.
I smiled, his excitement infectious. When he was younger, little things used to make him happy. But lately, he’d been too cool to hang out with me, let alone at something “for kids.”
“What should we do first?” I asked, glancing towards Miguel, who was grinning ear to ear.
“Ring toss?” Miguel offered, so we followed him towards it.
The ring toss was fall themed as well, a nice treat. On the ground were green and brown leaves, with stacks of hay divided in half, coming together in a perfect triangle. Three pumpkins were on the lowest bales of hay, six in total. Four on the next level, two on the next, with one at the tippy-top of the pile.
A vendor came over, dressed as a scarecrow with matching makeup, a Raggedy Ann–themed wig on her head. She handed my son and Miguel three rings, then tried to offer some to me. I went to shake my head no; I would much rather take pictures to save the memory and send to the family group chat. But both Meechie and Miguel insisted, nudging me to join them.
“Okay, fine,” I said as I took my stack of green, yellow, and red rings.
“The rules are simple. Get as many rings on the pumpkin stems as you can. The higher you go, the bigger the prize. Who’s up first?”
Meechie visibly hesitated, though he looked like he really wanted to try. Before I could respond, Miguel stepped up. Like a pro, he landed his first toss on the highest stem, eliciting some claps and hooting from the other families waiting in line. But then his second toss landed lower, on the first bale of hay. And he missed his last toss.
“Congratulations! Take this ticket to the prize counter for your very own scarecrow pumpkin doll!”
I wasn’t sure what kind of abomination a scarecrow pumpkin would look like, but if it was like everything else at the festival, it would be cute rather than creepy.
Miguel took the ticket and slipped it into his back pocket, leaning down to clasp Meechie’s shoulders.
“Think you can beat that?”
“Yeah, I can!” he nearly shouted back, determination burning in his gaze.
He was bringing out Meechie’s competitive side, which was hilarious to watch. I could tell Miguel had held back, but he wasn’t going super easy on him either. The perfect balance.
One of his eyes squinted as he tried to line up his throw. I quickly pulled out my phone. Unfortunately, Meechie missed the first two, but landed the last one on the stack just below the grand prize. We cheered, and I bit my lip to hide my smile. The scarecrow attendant offered Meechie a ticket to redeem for a smaller toy and a bag of candy.
I was up next. I tossed my first two rather quickly, going for low hanging fruit. However, Miguel cleared his throat as I went to toss my last so we could get to see the rest of the sights. I turned to him with a quirked eyebrow. His eyes shot over to Meechie and back. After following his pointed gesture, I could see Meechie’s eyes were looking up at me, hopeful I could get the biggest prize for him no doubt.
Sighing, I focused, chewing my tongue a bit, and tossed the ring. It landed perfectly on top of Miguel’s ring spinning for a while before settling. More clapping, another grand prize ticket, and a very happy ten-year-old later, I was glad I listened to Miguel.
We weaved our way around the festival until the sun was starting to set, playing games with loads of laughter and more than a little shoving here and there. The amber lighting matched the mood of the festival as we made our way to the end.
“So, what should we do next?” I asked, eyeing a candy apple stand.
I resisted the urge to check my watch, a little worried seeing as it was getting late.
Miguel seemed to track where my gaze landed since he nudged me. “Candy apples? My treat.”
Meechie nodded, practically sprinting towards the stand. I had to snatch him back as Miguel ordered on our behalf. He got two covered in candy—way too damn sweet. But mine was perfect.
He offered me one covered only in caramel sauce as we found a bench to eat on. I took it, savoring the sweetness and the tenderness of the moment too.
Miguel dragged his fingers through his hair, and for once I really saw him. And, as shocking as the thought was, I found him to be rather handsome. Thin crow’s feet pinched the corners of his eyes, the only thing really indicating how much of an age gap we had between us.
The sun caught his irises, and they glowed the color of honey with flecks of green. Were his eyes always that color? Hazel, not moss green?
I couldn’t remember clearly; I didn’t think we’d been so close. Or, more accurately, I didn’t think I’d been so relaxed around him. I found myself sneaking glances his way, teeth and tongue sticky with caramel as he and my son chatted away.
Our marriage counselor warned me that kids always bore the brunt of a divorce. It was why Denise and I did everything we could not to split up. Seeing Meechie genuinely happy was all I could ever ask for. And as much as I didn’t want to admit it, I had Miguel to thank for that.
CHAPTER 8
MIGUEL
I could feel the evening coming to a close and I wasn’t ready.
While we ate candy apples, Meech was going on about his classes, how he had already covered his current science unit at his last school and he was bored out of his mind at school. He had already met a couple of people that he talked to during classes, particularly a kid he was working on a history project with and the girl that sat next to him in English.
I could feel Demetrius’ intense focus during the entire conversation, but he wisely stayed out of it.
“It sounds like it’s going good,” I said gently, aware that Demetrius was listening.
Meech shrugged, biting another chunk out of his apple—caramel dipped in M&M’s.
When he swallowed it down, he muttered, “It’s okay I guess. I still wish I was at my old school though.”
Glancing over the top of his head surreptitiously, I noticed the subdued look in Demetrius’ eyes. He was gazing blankly off into the distance, but his brows were lightly drawn together, his lips downturned.
To bide time, I took a bite of my apple. It was caramel too, dipped in marshmallows and chocolate chips.
“You just need a distraction,” I said as my gaze landed on the leaf dunk. “Both of you do. Come on!”
I grabbed each of them by the hand, dragging them after me and tossed the last of my apple into a bin we were passing.
The second Meech’s gaze landed on the enormous pile of leaves and the seat balanced above it, his eyes lit up.
“Dad first,” I said, giving Demetrius a push.
Meech howled with laughter.
“What? I don’t think so.”
“Dad, I’m going to knock you in!” Meech said, and Demetrius obviously didn’t have the heart to turn him down when he looked so happy, because he gave me a half-hearted glare and went to the end of the line. There was only one couple ahead of us. When the girl swung a perfect overhand throw directly at the bullseye mark and her boyfriend toppled dramatically into the leaves, Demetrius visibly stiffened while Meech laughed.
“Oh, I can’t wait for this!” he exclaimed.
“Hey, don’t have too much fun,” Demetrius warned. “I still make your lunches. You hit that bullseye and it’s sardines for the week.”
Laughing, I reached out, massaging his tense shoulders roughly and then giving him a shove when the girl running the game waved us forward.
“We each want a turn,” I said.
“Sure thing. Whoever’s first can climb up.”
Biting his lip nervously, Demetrius climbed the ladder and perched atop the chair, already clinging to the edges.
“You get two throws,” the girl said, offering us each a ball.
It was an easy throw, but I tossed the ball into the air, making a show of measuring the distance.
“Get on with it,” Demetrius grumbled.
Oh, how I would love to knock him down, but no, this was Meech’s treat. Still, I threw on an evil smile and threw hard.
Demetrius flinched from head to toe and then laughed, whooping loudly when my ball swung just past the target.
“Haha!”
“My turn,” Meech said, completely focused.
He took the ball and, with the precision I’d been hoping he had, he swung his arm in an arc, throwing the ball perfectly square in the bullseye.
It hit the metal target with a loud clunk and there seemed to be a moment where Demetrius’ eyes widened before the floor and his seat dropped away.
He fell in a floppy mess, getting buried as the trampoline covered in leaves caught him.
Meech cheered far harder than any child should cheer their parent falling and then, for the first time since Demetrius entered my life weeks ago, the man let out a huge guffaw of laughter. The sound was loud, free, and completely contagious, and we were all laughing by the time he straightened, looking a charming mess with his glasses askew and leaves atop his head.
He was still grinning ear to ear when he climbed out of the mess, dusting the leaves off.
“You’re next!” he said ominously to his son, pointing a finger to his chest. The effect was ruined by the bright, open smile on his face.
Meech climbed the ladder and sat atop the chair, clearly trying to keep his cool, but I could see how fast his chest was rising and falling.
“Should I?” I asked quietly. “Or you?”
Demetrius’ lips pursed.
“Shit,” he muttered. “I know he’ll have fun, but I just don’t have the heart.”
“What are you whispering?” Meech asked suspiciously.
I smiled at him.
“Oh, nothing,” I said, feigning innocence. “We’re just trying to figure out how to catch you off guard.”
“You can’t—” he started and I threw the ball as fast as I could, catching him mid-sentence.
He squealed as he fell, hitting the leaves with a big bounce and then lying back in them, laughing.
“Oh, I’m so gonna get you,” he informed me as he climbed out.
I laughed and climbed up the ladder, taking my seat. It was a little unnerving from up here. Even though the distance down wasn’t far, not knowing how you would fall or when made the heart race.
I loved things like this though. I loved the exhilaration and anticipation of the unknown, the adrenaline rush. I hoped they hit the target.
Sure enough, they did, choosing to throw their balls at the same time so that they would both “get the pleasure.”
It was hilarious and also adorable to watch father and son looking up at me with that same mischievous expression in their eyes.
When the target was hit and the floor fell from under me, I yelped and hit the leaves, laughing as I was bounced. My heart was racing, blood rushing with life, and I didn’t know if it was from the game or from everything else.
Being with Demetrius like this, playing with his kid, enjoying the festival. It was different than how it had been with Dan’s family. It felt more meaningful somehow, although I couldn’t quite place why. It wasn’t like they were really mine. Demetrius wasn’t my partner, Meech wasn’t my kid.
I barely even knew either of them, but somewhere deep inside me, it felt like we all fit. Like a perfect family unit.
I shook the sudden thought out of my head, then physically shook all the leaves free before rejoining them.
“That was so much fun!” Meech said. “When I fell, I thought it was going to be a lot farther.”
“I know. You screamed,” Demetrius said.
“I did not!”
“Didn’t he?” Demetrius asked, quirking a playful brow at me.
“Sorry bud, you totally did.”
He groaned loudly, ready to keep arguing but I stopped in my steps.
“Where are you going?” I asked, suddenly realizing that I had been following Demetrius back towards the parking lot.
“Home?” he said. “It’s almost eight.”
I shook my head at once.
“What? But we didn’t get our prizes and we didn’t even listen to the band yet!”
“But—”
“Meech is ten. He doesn’t need to be in bed by nine, does he?”
“No, I do not,” Meech agreed.
“There you go.”
I waited, hoping that Demetrius would agree. Finally, he shrugged.
“Sure, let’s go watch the band for a bit.”
I veered them in the direction of the prize booth. It was no contest which plushie we would pick. Meech and I both immediately zoned in on the happy scarecrow with the pumpkin head and long green hat. It was weird and cute at the same time. We handed in our tickets and Meech took his baggie of Halloween candy happily. I led them towards the music, which echoed through the park to where the bandstand had been erected.
The area was packed, all the seats at the front taken and people spread out on blankets all over the grass.
“We don’t have a blanket,” Demetrius said regretfully, as though that was the end of it.
I held out my arms, surprised.
“We have grass,” I said. “We don’t need a blanket.”
He blinked, and then his lips quivered slightly.
“Of course,” he said, glancing around.
I found a spot for us right in the middle with enough room to spread out and lie back.
Next to me, Meech sat down, watching the performance and totally soaking it in. On his other side, Demetrius carefully lay down, just like I had.
“There’s that Gaynor Beach sky you keep talking about,” he said, resting his head on his arms.
I grinned and looked up at it.
The sun was long gone, but the soft indigo and lavender clouds as it darkened were still striking.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Demetrius whispered, and something about his voice drew my gaze.
He wasn’t looking at the sky. He was looking at me.
“Why are you so good with kids?”
The sudden question immediately brought a smile to my face.
“I love kids,” I said. “Always have, but Dan—the PM you replaced. I got really close to him and his family. He has two kids and another on the way, but Perry is Meech’s age; Lexi is six. They’re both the best.”
“Where did they go?” Demetrius asked.
“Back to San Jose to be with Lea’s family.”
“Hm. Sounds like you miss them already.”
“I’m realizing that more and more,” I sighed. “I played it off like it was nothing when they were leaving. It’s been so long since I had a family. I didn’t realize how attached I got to theirs…”
I drifted off, realizing how much I was spilling, and glanced at Demetrius self-consciously.
His expression was soft and warm, full of compassion.
My heart leaped as our eyes met and then, just as quickly, the moment passed. He blinked and looked back up at the sky, watching it silently while the band continued to play artistic covers of songs we all knew.
Eventually, after about the fourth or fifth song ended, he sat up, stretching and I knew I had milked this day long enough.
“Time to go, kid,” Demetrius said, patting his son’s shoulder.
Meech didn’t put up a fight. He seemed tired and suddenly; I felt guilty for pushing them to stay out.
