Page 16 of From the Ashes

Colt

“Mr. Ross! You made it!”

Nevaeh jumps off the climbing frame as I approach the playground, from just high enough that it makes my heart stutter for a second. But she barely stumbles as she hits the woodchip ground and then breaks into a run, throwing her arms around my middle like we’re long-lost friends.

“Hey, kiddo,” I say patting her shoulder as her mom and brother approach at a more reasonable pace. “You’re looking about a million times better than the last time I saw you.”

The little girl lets me go and beams up at me, shielding her eyes from the sun. “Thanks to you and Mr. Del. You’re my heroes!”

The mention of Zahir makes my heart stutter for a second time in as many minutes, but thankfully the rest of Nevaeh’s family reach where we’re standing.

“Thank you so much for meeting us here, Mr. Ross,” her mom says warmly. “On a Friday afternoon, too. I’m sure you’re very busy, but it means the world to Nevaeh.”

I shake my head. “Nowhere else I’d rather be,” I tell her truthfully. “And please, call me Colt.”

“Only if you’ll call me Elizabeth,” Mrs. Adams says with a chuckle.

“We made you your own rainbow cupcakes, Mr. Ross!” Nevaeh’s brother, Dashel, informs me as he tugs on the corner of my open shirt.

“But you already made me some!” I say, over-exaggerating my surprise. These kids are kind of infectious to be around.

Nevaeh wrinkles her nose. “Those got squished. You needed proper ones in a box.”

“They insisted,” Elizabeth says apologetically, but I shake my head.

“That’s so kind of you guys, really.”

“Come sit!” Dashel says as Nevaeh drags us to a bench.

“You can sit with my mom here, Mr. Ross,” she says seriously. “That way, you’ll have the best view of us on the monkey bars.”

I laugh as I sit where I’m told. “Yes, that’s very important,” I tell her with a nod.

Within seconds, I’ve got a fresh cake in my hand and the children have torn back into the heart of the playground, shrieking in delight as they naturally join in a game with a few other kids around their age.

“You have an amazing family,” I tell Elizabeth, feeling glad I texted her earlier in the week and set up this little meeting. Replacing the image of Nevaeh half-drowned on the beach with her gallivanting around the park is doing my soul a lot of good.

Elizabeth sniffs and I glance over, alarmed that she appears to be fighting back tears. “Thank you so much,” she whispers, reaching into her purse for a tissue. “They’re all I have now. Their daddy was deployed overseas but…like I said, it’s just us now. If I’d lost Nevaeh…”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” I promise her as she takes a second to dab her eyes and blow her nose. “I’m so incredibly sorry for your loss. But Nevaeh’s fine. Look at her. She’s strong, like her mom.”

Elizabeth gives me a watery smile before taking a deep breath and regaining some of her composure. “Thank you. We lost my husband a couple of years ago. The pain has eased some. But seeing my baby girl unconscious like that has brought a lot of it back to the surface. I think it has for the kids in a way, too. They might not necessarily understand it, but I think that’s why Nevaeh has been so fixated on thanking you and Mr. Delacroix. Our little family has been through so much and, well, not to trauma dump on you, but I think having a male role model has been good for them, even if it’s just for a hot minute.” She huffs out a little laugh. “She calls you her guardian angel.”

Considering how much I’ve railed against the idea of having kids of my own, her words warm something inside of me.

“Honestly, I’m honored,” I tell her with a grin. “I’m not sure I’m much of a role model for anyone. But if baking some sparkly cupcakes gives her a sense of normalcy, I’m happy to eat them.”

I illustrate this by peeling back the cupcake casing to take a bite. I like that I can enjoy the small sugar rainbow on top without worrying if anyone’s going to think anything of it. Which is ridiculous. Kids should be able to enjoy rainbows whether they are about Pride or just something fun. So should adults. But I’ve been carrying this shame and fear around with me for a couple of decades and apparently it’s not so easy to just shake it off.

Logically, I know only a douchebag would concern himself about being seen with anything that could be misconstrued as ‘girly’ or ‘gay.’ But my father’s words ring in my ears as clearly as ever. As a corperate lawyer, I have to maintain a tough guy image.

As a human being who is secretly very fucking gay, I’m going to enjoy every single one of these damn cakes.

“Okay,” I say as I lick frosting off my lips. “Somehow not being flattened does make this taste better.”

We both laugh and watch the kids for a few moments. After a while, Elizabeth speaks again.

“You saved a life, Mr. Ross,” she says softly. “My husband would say that makes you a good role model if he were here. Don’t downplay that. There are plenty of people who wouldn’t have been paying enough attention to see my little girl going under. And others who would have turned away, letting someone else take care of the situation. Because of you, she’s still here. She can grow up and be anything she wants. She has options.”

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