Page 203 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
“What did I say about us not talking about it? It’s a party. We should put on a happy face,” he added, glancing at Sebastian, still busy on the other side of the barn.
Calliope turned to Libby. The women looked at each other as if they weren’t sure what to do.
He didn’t have a clue either.
“Callista and I are happy to meet you in real life,” his sister said, falling back on pleasantries.
“Me too. Thanks for helping out with Sebastian while we were…” Libby trailed off, tossing him another wary look.
It was as if the Snake’s stunt had tainted everything that had happened in Moloka’i.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
He’d planned it out in his head. They’d arrive at the party, and he’d surreptitiously slide the wooden box in with Sebastian’s gifts. When they gathered to open presents, the boy would have plucked it from the pile. When he opened it, that would have been the cue, the moment he’d drop to his knee and give his son, and himself, the best gift they could ask for—a life with Libby.
“Dad, Mibby, you’re back!” Sebastian cried, all smiles. “Look at the decorations. I helped Auntie Calliope and Auntie Callista. And look at Plum and Beefcake, and look at what Oscar gave me,” the boy prattled, excitedly jabbering a mile a minute as he plucked a rectangular box from a table loaded with presents and cake. He removed the lid and held up a framed photo. “Oscar made the frame at camp, and he took the picture. It’s you and me and Mibby and the donkeys after Mibby won the Ass-in-Nine.”
He stared at the image in his son’s hands. Bloody hell, if only he could go back to that time when everything in life was so clear.
But it wasn’t clear. His attention had shifted.
He’d lost sight of what he had to do.
He wanted Libby so badly he’d forgotten that the entire reason for coming to Denver was to train with Augie to win—to beat the Snake and claim the heavyweight champion title.
With the cover of Sebastian by his side, their friends gathered around them. He could see it in their faces. Everyone wanted to ask about what happened, but no one said a word. With Sebastian beaming like he’d won the birthday lottery, the adults ignored the elephant in the room, welcoming them back and peppering them with questions about Moloka’i. He stood there like a giant oak weathering the storm when Aug caught his eye. The man had stood a few steps back as a flicker of disappointment registered on his trainer’s face.
“Can we sing Happy Birthday to Sebastian, so we can eat the cake?” Phoebe asked, eyeing the sugary confection on the table next to the gifts.
“My dad and I made a chocolate cake with donkey ears,” Oscar chimed.
“Can we, Dad?” Sebastian asked, hopping around.
“Yeah, absolutely,” he said, scarcely there. It took every ounce of energy to muster the ghost of a grin. As much as he wanted to celebrate, he couldn’t stop replaying the moment Silas landed his first punch.
Like a zombie, he sang along with the group. He stood by as Libby gave the lad the sketch of Moloka’i, then helped Sebastian put the leis on Plum and Beefcake. He made small talk with his granny, Bob, and Maud. Rowen, Mitch, and Landon had gone on about how the group should go on a tropical holiday together. He nodded, and he even chimed in once or twice, but none of it seemed real, or perhaps it seemed too real. He’d catch a glimpse of Libby, and his heart would jump into his throat. He barely knew up from down. When he finally had a second alone, Aug’s voice cut through the buzz of sounds.
“Silas faked left, then went in on the right. We’ve watched the tapes. That’s his go-to.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve been playing it out in my head.”
Aug crossed his arms. “You should eat the rest of your cake, mate. You’ve been holding that plate for an hour.”
He checked his watch. How had an hour passed?
He surveyed the barn and spied Libby standing with Penny, Charlotte, and Harper while his sisters and his granny chatted at a card table with Luanne, Bob, and Maud.
He couldn’t even look at Granny Fin.
“We have to go, Aug,” he said, his voice a scrape of a sound.
“I know what you’re thinking, lad. You’ve got to stop that right now,” Aug murmured, taking his toothpick from between his lips and slipping it into his pocket.
“I should be in the gym—your gym in Denver with no distractions, sleeping on the cot in the back, eating and breathing the basics. Doing exactly what made me a champion.”
“Dad!” Sebastian called, running up to him. The boy held a blindfold and a paper donkey tail in his hands. “Do you want to play Pin the Tail on the Donkey with us?”
Pin the Tail on the Donkey.
