Page 1 of Twice Shy

Chapter One

Welcome Cookout, Friday August 30th

Phone wedged beneath one ear, baby shrieking in the other, Ollie struggled to pull the envelope out of the back pocket of his skinny jeans. “A hundred and six dollars?”

The grocery store cashier fixed him with an unsmiling look. “And thirty cents.” Her beady eyes landed on Luis, wailing as he struggled manfully against the shopping cart restraints. Well, as manfully as a barely two-year-old could manage.

“And thirty cents. Right.” Ollie put a hand to Luis’s flushed, angry face. “Hold on big guy, we’re almost done.”

Tipping the content of the envelope onto the counter, he started sorting through the cash, very aware of the impatient tuts from the line behind him. “It’s for the Parent-Teacher association,” he explained, with an apologetic smile. “We’re holding a Welcome Cookout, and—”

“Good afternoon, New Milton Elementary School. How can I help you?” The tinny voice of Mrs. Jackson, the school receptionist, spoke into his right ear, making him jump.

“Oh, hey!” He grabbed the phone, abandoning the cash, and shoved a finger in his other ear to block out Luis’s wailing. “It’s Ollie Snow. I’m sorry, but I’m running late to collect Rory. I’ll be there in, like, twenty minutes tops? I’m so sorry.”

“That’s okay, we’ll keep hold of him. Again. Thanks for letting us know, Mr. Snow.”

Mr. Snow. And didn’t that make him feel both ancient and a fraud? An ancient fraud, like ersatz Victorian gothic. As Ollie shoved his phone back into his pocket, Luis let out another shriek, turning an alarming shade of purple. “Hey, hey, shh!” Irritated stares bored into his back, hot little lasers of disapproval. Starting to sweat, he rummaged in his pocket and found a battered packet of raisins. “Here.” He held them out to Luis. “There you go.”

Distracted, Luis dialed it down as he began poking his little fingers into the raisin box. Ollie figured he had three minutes, max, before the volume started rising again.

“Never reward tantrums,” pronounced a middle-aged woman from the line behind him. She wore pink sweatpants and a matching top. “Makes a rod for your own back. Just tell them no and mean it.”

Ollie flushed but didn’t respond. She was probably right. Jules wouldn’t have resorted to bribery, but Jules wasn’t here anymore. There was only Ollie, inadequate as he was, and he didn’t know what else to do.

He handed over a fistful of cash and watched as the cashier started counting. “I think that’s right.” He threw Luis a worried glance, but he was still digging about in his raisin box. “In fact, keep the change. I gotta run.”

“I can’t keep the change, sir.” The cashier spared him a glance over the rims of her glasses and pinged open the cash register. Maybe her go-slow was payback for him paying in sticky dollar bills, or maybe his overtly gay t-shirt offended her, but she seemed to take an age to finally hand him his seventy cents change. “You’re all done.”

Thank God. He piled the last bag of burger buns into his cart, stuffed the cash envelope back into his pocket, and made his escape.

“See?” tutted the pink woman behind him. “That’s what happens when they have children so young. No idea how to raise them. It’s a vicious cycle.”

Ollie wanted to tell her to go fuck herself, but he was a responsible adult now.In loco parentis. And, besides, she wasn’t wrong; he reallydidn’tknow what he was doing. But then he’d had this gig dropped on him less than two years ago and had been making it up as he went along ever since. Fake it till you make it, right?

Once they got out into the late summer air, Luis calmed down. The little guy hated being strapped into anything—shopping carts, strollers, car seats—but at least outside he was distracted, looking around at the other cars. He liked the red ones best, always pointed them out with a chubby little finger and a ‘Wed one!’ As the cart rattled over the pavement toward Ollie’s old Honda, Luis started giggling as the vibrations shook him around. The sound of his laughter lifted Ollie’s spirits, transforming him from stressed-out to delighted in ten seconds flat. This, he’d learned, was a parent’s life—the ups and downs came so thick and fast you never knew which way you were headed. Leaning forward, he kissed Luis’s soft hair. “Rattly-rattle,” he said, smiling. “Rattly-rattle to the car.”

“Watterly-wattle,” Luis agreed, laughing. “Watterly-wattle.”

Someone had parked an SUV the size of a tank next to them, the kind of vehicle driven by smug young couples who could afford to protect themselves and their kids from a dangerous world. Once, Ollie had despised them and the people who drove them. He’d considered SUVs to be the gated communities of the highway, a perfect metaphor for the me-before-you culture. Then Rory and Luis had landed in his life, and suddenly he got it. He’d drive the boys around in a tank, too, if he could afford one; there was nothing like having two small children entirely dependent on you for their safety to make you scared shitless of the world.

He popped the trunk on the Honda and started hauling groceries from his shopping cart and loading them into the car. This evening was the first Parent-Teacher Association event of the year: The Welcome Cookout. Ollie had offered to help in a bid to make friends in his new town, but he was already regretting his enthusiasm. Jackie Olsen, the PTA Committee chairman, was pretty full-on. He’d only chatted with her on Facebook so far, but she wielded her power with dictatorial finesse, and his tentative offer of help had quickly morphed into him agreeing to buy all the food needed for the event.

He’d planned to do it after his shift in the call-center finished, and before he collected Luis from daycare. But he’d gotten stuck on the phone with an awkward customer, which meant he’d been too late to do the shopping before he picked up Luis. Having a disgruntled toddler in tow had doubled the time it took to get around the grocery store, and now he was late collecting Rory. For the third time since school started. Not a great impression to make in the first month of kindergarten. He sighed. Being late was the story of his life these days; there was just never enoughtime.

Just like there wasn’t enough room in his tiny trunk. It was surprising how much space was taken up by two hundred burgers, buns and relevant condiments. Especially when the trunk was already stuffed full of stroller. He shoved a grocery bag between the stroller’s wheels, hoping he wasn’t squashing anything too important, then balanced another on top, and—

“Oops, watch out!” called a breezy female voice from behind him, and he turned around to see a perfectly groomed young woman catching hold of Ollie’s cart as it began to roll away—with Luis still inside.

“Shit!” He grabbed hold of the end of the cart, yanking it back in panic. He should have been watching. If a car had been coming…

“Need eyes in the back of your head, huh?” The woman smiled, hoisting a child about Luis’s age onto her hip while her perfect-looking husband loaded groceries into the back of the giant SUV next door. “You need a hand?”

“Nope.” Aware he’d sounded curt, he tried to soften it with a smile. “Thanks, but I’ve got it.” He lifted Luis from the cart and took him around to buckle him into his car seat. “I’m fine.”

Ollie was always fine. He had to be.

∞∞∞

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