Page 4 of You've Got Male

He was just finishing up his community campaign when the high school called, requesting his appearance. Which was how he’d spent the past hour with his stepson’s principal, football coach, and Spanish teacher discussing the finer points of Ryan’s shit-tacular progress report—which was the first Jonah was hearing of it.

Ryan was a straight-A student, always had been. Until his mom passed. Then everything changed. He’d become moody, distant, secretive, and unmotivated.

Four things Jonah could relate to.

One look at his wife and his entire world had changed. Jonah had changed. Being loved by a woman like Amber had that kind of effect. Every day he was embracing the fact that she was gone, but how did he move past his wife’s death without leaving her memories behind? Especially when there had been so much discord right up until the end. Discord that could have been avoided if he’d supported her decision to forgo treatment and spend her last few months around her kids and not hooked up to an IV.

Slowly he was coming to terms with the loss. He only hoped he could change fast enough to be the kind of dad his kids deserved.

Brushing the sweat from his forehead, which had nothing to do with the spiking temperatures, Jonah grabbed the takeout from the front seat and walked up the brick pathway to the front porch. He opened the front door and let out a sigh that came from the depths of his soul. Ryan’s school things were strewn in the entry, his cleats haphazardly lying in the center of the floor—at least he’d bothered to take them off this time.

“Ryan?” he called out.

A grunt of acknowledgment came from the family room.

“I got takeout.” Jonah had to look for a clean space of countertop just to set the bag down. Jesus, it looked like an episode ofMaster Chefhad exploded in his kitchen. Dirty dishes were stacked on the counter right above the dishwasher, frozen pizza wrappers were lying around like carcasses, and dirty mixing bowls were filling the sink.

“There’s this thing called a dishwasher. It actually does all the work for you,” Jonah called out.

“It’s full.”

“Then run it.”

Jonah inhaled for eight, held it for four, and then exhaled. A trick his grief counselor had taught him and the only reason he hadn’t killed his stepson. Then he walked in and saw a first-person shooter game on the television and all that breathing ramped back up. Ryan was sunken back into the couch, barely visible, his socked feet up on the coffee table, and snuggled upnext to him was his baby sister, Waverly.

The room smelled like a post-football practice that took place on the surface of the sun and stale Fritos. There were more wrappers and plates on the coffee table and dirty football pads hanging off the armchair.

Jonah picked up the remote and turned off the television.

“Dude, I was streaming that,” Ryan said.

“And your baby sister is watching you blow off the heads of people.”

“She’s watchingPaw Patrol.” Ryan pointed to the tablet in Waverly’s sticky little hands. She was in a cute green dress that matched her eyes, white bows that were about to stage a coup with her hair, and bare feet, with a red frosting stain above her lip.

“What happened to no sugar after lunch?”

“I didn’t think it was a big deal, since it’s Mom’s birthday and all.”

Which explained the dirty cake pan and red food coloring on the slate countertop.

Jonah dropped his head and pressed his palms to his eye sockets. He’d been so focused on this meeting with the principal and the Beautification Board meeting tonight that he’d completely spaced.

“I’m sorry, bud. I forgot.”

“No big deal. Wave and I had our own little party.”

“Maybe we can do something this weekend.”

“Maybe.” Ryan shrugged, but the weight shoving his son’s shoulders down caused Jonah’s heart to contract like it was being strangled by the strength of a thousand gods.

“Your mom would have loved that,” he said, then looked at his daughter, who wouldn’t remember her mom’s face or voice or life-changing hugs. “How long did she nap?”

“She didn’t. I tried. She wasn’t into it,” Ryan said, and Jonah didn’t bother with a lecture. Waverly got her mom’s red hair, her big green eyes, and her tenacity. When she set her mind to something, no one could dissuade her.

On the other hand, Ryan was quiet, thoughtful, and emotionally mature. That was until Amber died. Now he was just sullen and angry, testing every boundary Jonah set. Itdidn’t help that his birth-dad was out of the picture. Jonah had adopted Ryan when he was ten, but that kid was his through and through. He loved his son so much it hurt to see him struggle with the immense amount of grief his mom’s sickness and death caused.

“I tried to put her down twice and both times she crawled out of her crib and right over the baby gate. I laid down with her for about an hour but she just cried. So here we are.”

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