Page 67 of Outlaw Heartstrings
Damn, since when did I become the responsible one?I’m not sure when it happened. But setting a good example for Jagger is important to me.
A ding comes through on Lincoln’s phone. He checks it, and instantly starts barking at Rocco. “What is wrong with you?!” he yells. “What were you thinking, signing me up on a dating app without my permission?”
Rocco’s mouth twitches with repressed laughter. “I could tell you what I was thinking, but you probably wouldn’t want me saying it in front of your kid.”
“J-Jules…” Lincoln’s eyes widen as he frantically scrolls through the app. “I just received a match request fromJules.” He looks like his head is about to explode.
Rocco snorts.
Then he snickers.
Then he’s bent over in half, howling with laughter.
“Not. Freaking. Funny.” Lincoln takes off, chasing Rocco around the yard with a metal spatula.
Role model behavior. Totally.
Oliver holds up his phone, recording the whole ridiculous incident. “Hmm…future blackmail material…” he mumbles sagely to himself.
Meanwhile, Jagger just shrugs as he and Cameron continue calmly roasting their marshmallows over the fire. “Aunt Jules is really cool,” my boy tells his cousin. “You’d like her.”
“Is she pretty?” Cameron asks.
Jagger nods. “Yup.Andshe smells like chocolate chip cookies.Andwhen she babysits, she lets me stay up until I fall asleep in front of the TV.Andshe’s a good friend.” He frowns gravely. “My aunt Alba says that being a good friend is more important than being pretty,” my boy adds sagely.
Cameron nods slowly, like he’s analyzing this brand new world view. “Hmm…Interesting.”
Lincoln gets a few whacks in with the spatula but it doesn’t do much to keep Rocco from cackling. Breathless and sweaty, Lincoln finally collapses on the lawn and Rocco does a few victory laps around his prone body before dropping in the grass, too.
Snickering, the kids go back to chowing down on their burnt marshmallows.
Later on, Rocco and Oliver are on the other side of the campfire, cracking open some beers. I’m just sitting here in the shadowy backyard, content with my electrolyte drink, watching the evening unfold.
Smiling to myself, I pick up my phone and snap a few shots so I can always remember this special night. I can’t resist the urge to post a few of them on social media, making sure the kids’ faces are obscured, of course.
As I’m quietly admiring the photos, Lincoln drags himself into a lawn chair and pulls it up next to mine. From where I’m sitting, I feel my oldest brother’s eyes on me.
“What?” I ask, giving him a sidelong glimpse.
“Just wondering where the fuck my reckless playboy brother went? This time last year, in the off-season, you were drinking your weight in alcohol and partying it up with your teammates in some random city on the other side of the globe. At this time of year, I usually don’t even knowwhere to find you. Now, here you are, hanging out with an eight-year-old and looking as happy as a clam.”
I chuckle. “It’s crazy, right?” I rake my fingers through my hair. “But I can honestly say, there’s no place I’d rather be but right here with my boy.”
These days, I’m starting to see why Lincoln is always so uptight. Sheesh. Having another human to be responsible for sure makes you think twice about getting plastered on a week night.
I really have no desire to drink right now. I’m having a great time hanging out with Jagger and Cameron and my idiot brothers, feeling incredibly grateful for this bonding time with the boys.
As the night goes on, my two younger brothers are still across the yard, arguing about something dumb. Lincoln goes inside with Cameron to warm up some leftovers for him.
Jagger comes and plops down in the lawn chair next to me.“Hey, Dad?” His big eyes look up at me.
My chest warms. I’ll never get tired of hearing him call me that. “Hey, buddy. What’s up?”
When he hesitates to speak, I reach out and rub his shoulder encouragingly.
“Mimi and Grandma take really good care of me,” he says finally, “But sometimes, I get sad about not having my mom around.” He looks down, picking at some sticky marshmallow that’s glued to his little fingers. “But having you here makes me feel better. I just want to tell you that I love you.”
I grab his little hand and pull him over to my chair, throat closing up as I try to speak. My arms lock him in a hug and I kiss the top of his head. “I willalwaysbe here foryou, son. I love you, too.” My voice trembles. “I love you, too.”
