Page 73 of Almost Always

When his son was starting to walk, Nonna often joked about how they were in for a treat. She’d told him enough stories about what Rafferty was like as a toddler and that was terrifying in and of itself. They had an open space in the back of the brownstone, but it was mostly cemented with a patch that his grandmother used to plant flowers. Public parks—which were everywhere in New York—were the only times that Cal got to run amok. He was a well-behaved kid though. It was rare for him to roll around in the grass or play with dirt. Moving to Wildes completely changed the game.

Cal ran down the hallway with his hair combed and clean clothes on, as Rafferty wiped up the mess. His son didn’t look even a little guilty for dragging all of that in with him, if anything, he had moved on.

“Can I watch TV?”

“Youmay.”

He tilted his head in confusion. “I don’t get it.”

“When you’re asking permission, you always saymay. If you’re able to do something, you saycan,” he explained and his son frowned. “If you want to do something, you’d saymay I watch TV, otherwise you’d sayI can help you clean up the dirt.”

It took him a minute, but Cal nodded and then said, “May I watch TV?”

He realized that while his sonhadlearned the lesson, he’d missed the obvious additional message. Nodding, he sent him off and finished mopping the floor. Once he was done, he returned to his office and grabbed his phone with the intention of finding a place for that evening. Even though he’d driven around Wildes and explored what the town had to offer, he hardly went out for meals. If he did, it was always picking up asandwich at the coffee shop or dessert from the bakery. Googling would give him a few options, but he went with another method.

Rafferty

I need recommendations for good date night spots.

His phone rang instantly and he chuckled as he swiped to answer. “You’re supposed to reply to my text.”

“Do you not want to hear my voice?” the deep rumble responded.

“Not really.”

“Wow, and here I thought we were becoming friends.”

He snorted and leaned back in his chair. After that first awkward, but helpful conversation in the MacArthur kitchen, the two of them had been catching up regularly. Whenever they crossed paths, they’d have coffee together and talk about the kids, how they were doing with their respective jobs and of course, how their romantic lives were turning out. He’d never had too many friends, men or women, in New York. Most of the people he spent time with had been folks at the firehouse or people at Ames Landscaping. With Mack, the friendship was surprisingly easy. They were single dads figuring things out one day at a time, didn’t get excited about sports and drank once in a while. They took their coffee the same way and liked similar movies.

“I’m guessing this is for everyone’s favorite florist.”

“There isn’t anyone else,” he shot back and Mack chuckled.

“All right, keep your pants on. Clementine told me about this bistro place that she likes. Kinda low-key, unless you want something fancy.”

“Low-key is good.”

“It’s No Truffles,” Mack said. “At the end of Cinnamon Avenue, I believe.”

“Thanks, man. I’ll have a look.”

“If it’s worth it, maybe I’ll take Jesse there one day.”

Rafferty grinned. “How’s that going, by the way?”

“Slow and steady. I don’t want to rush her and I’m not sure I’m ready for her to meet Dig yet.”

“I get that. But hey, she might be the one.”

Mack growled unhappily. “Don’t fucking jinx me.”

“Too late, buddy. Fingers crossed for you.”

After more grumbling, teasing and making sure it was okay to drop Cal off for the evening, he hung up and looked up the bistro online. He made a reservation, then went to check on his son. He was on the couch with Boots stretched out, head on his lap, asBlueyplayed on the TV.

“Cal, I need to talk to you about something.”

“Am I going to Indigo’s house?”

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