Page 102 of All The Things: The Last Thing He Needs Omnibus

Only one? There were nearly fifty of the damn things. Cal’s apartment was a fucking jungle. Tommy wouldn’t have minded it from anyone else, but all he could think about—for some stupid reason—was the time his father had knocked over Carrie’s little potted plant and nearly killed it. Seeing Cal with so much life around him made Tommy grit his teeth.

“That’s an African violet, Zoe.” Cal went to the stove and stirred something that smelled like spaghetti sauce, talking over his shoulder. “I’m trying to nurse it back to health.” He looked at Tommy and explained, “When the plants on the half-off shelf don’t sell down at the garden center, my boss lets me take them. They’re usually in pretty bad shape, but I do my best.”

For plants. Good to know he could do his best for something.

“They look real good,” Carrie said as she came into the kitchen. “Need any help with dinner?”

“Would you like to make a salad? Can you do that?”

Carrie rolled her eyes at the question. She’d been helping in the kitchen since she was younger than Max and Zoe. Not that Cal would know that.

“I can help too,” Max said as he followed after her. They went to work, pulling ingredients from the fridge like they lived there.

Collin and Davey still hadn’t said anything, and Tommy wasn’t too surprised. He didn’t like talking to their father either. But something about the way they kept looking at him and then Cal made Tommy wonder what the real reason was.

Then it struck him.

Loyalty.

The look on Collin’s face told Tommy he wanted to pitch in, too, or ask Cal questions, but he was holding back.

If he had to guess—which he did, really—Tommy would say Davey and Collin weren’t making themselves comfortable or chitchatting with their father because Tommy was there. He loved them a little more for it, but Judy’s voice was like a fucking alarm in his head. “Anything I can do?” he asked, trying to set aside his misgivings and do what was best for the kids. Though, what was best for them in this situation was debatable, in Tommy’s opinion. They’d all gotten used to Cal coming over for family stuff or random dinners. The kids had gotten comfortable with him at Judy’s. Chummy, even. But this was new territory for everyone.

“I think we’ve got everything under control,” Cal said, stirring the spaghetti sauce. “I don’t have enough plates and silverware for everyone, but I picked up some paper plates and plasticware if you want to set the table?”

Calling it a table was a stretch. Cal had taken a bunch of pallets and improvised a table. The kind that someone who drinks wine and wears designer shoes would hire someone to make so their trendy loft would have character, but when stuffed into a too-small apartment and set with paper plates and plastic forks just looked cramped and sad. But Christ knew it wasn’t the worst place the kids had ever eaten. “Sure, Pop,” Tommy said as he grabbed everything and started setting it all out. “Make yourself useful and get some drinks for the kids,” he told Davey, who practically jumped.

“There’s soda, and I have a little bit of milk, I think.”

“No soda,” Tommy said, slightly sharper than he’d meant.

Davey filled cups with water from the tap, and Collin filled two cups with the last of Cal’s milk.

“I should’ve thought of that,” Cal said quietly. “Bad for their teeth.”

Yeah, he should’ve thought of that. Should’ve thought of a lot of things. But then Bobby popped into his head, right along with Judy. He’s trying, they said. He’s doing okay, all things considered, they said.

They said a lot of things, but this one pissed Tommy off. He tried not to let it show, though.

When the time came to sit down and eat, Cal had to pull three old plastic chairs in from his microscopic deck—which was also covered in plants and climbing vines.

Even with the extra chairs, Zoe had to sit on Tommy’s lap and Max on Davey’s, but they all managed.

“Do you say grace?” Cal asked.

Tommy’s mouth nearly fell open, and he couldn’t stop himself from staring. “Do you?”

“Not a traditional grace, no, but I do usually pause and reflect over the food and let myself be grateful for a moment before I eat.” Cal shrugged. “I’m trying it out, but it’s helping me stay focused on good things.”

“Don’t let us stop ya,” Tommy said dismissively. “Reflect away.”

He reached for the salad and got a serving together for Zoe and himself, then passed the bowl down. Cal paused and reflected. Tommy forced himself not to roll his eyes. Dinner might kill one of them, but Tommy couldn’t guess which.

“The sauce is good, Pop,” Collin said around a mouthful of food.

Tommy hated to admit it, but Collin was right. “Yeah,” he said, and Zoe nodded her head in agreement.

Cal looked pleased but not smug. “I’m glad you like it,” he said. “I grow my own tomatoes out on the deck in the summertime, and the herbs too. I think it makes a difference.”

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