Page 230 of The Nanny and the Beefcake
Cut and dry.
Plain and simple.
But saying it out loud left a hollow space in his chest.
Aug’s mobile pinged, and he peered at the screen. “Briggs is here. Time’s up. We need to go.”
“Another weigh-in,” his granny said, gifting him with a smile but concern brewed in her eyes.
The doors opened, and Briggs entered the room, scanned the space, then made a beeline their way. Sebastian caught sight of the man, waved goodbye to Oscar, and joined the agent.
“It’s time,” Briggs said. “I’ll follow behind you and Augie, and we’ve got cars coming in the next twenty minutes to collect Finola, Madelyn, Callista, Calliope, and Sebastian,” he added with a nod to his granny and the nanny matchmaker.
“Can I ride with you and Aug, Dad? I have something for you,” Sebastian said, then procured a rather large box from beneath the table. The thing was nearly half as big as he was.
“Yeah, I think that would be grand,” Augie answered.
Raz nodded. “Absolutely, son, I’d really like that.”
And he meant it.
He usually spent the time before the weigh-in alone. Even when Mere was still with them, he chose to do this part of the pre-fight song and dance on his own. Aug was close by backstage, Briggs too, but no one entered his dressing room. He used the time to psych himself up and put on the mask to play the role of the cocky boxer and become…the beefcake.
Beefcake.
He took in his son, and the boy beamed.
Maybe Aug was right. Perhaps it was time for some new rituals.
With his granny and Madelyn promising to finish up with the fruit, he and Sebastian left the gym, walking side by side. As they passed through the doors, he took another look at the framed photo, and a sense of calm washed over him. It was like Meredith was there. Like her light and love had returned. He’d focused so much on the pain of losing her that he hadn’t allowed himself the comfort and joy of her memory.
In a daze, he climbed into the back of Aug’s SUV with his son.
“Here, Dad,” Sebastian said, passing him the large box as Augie started the car, and they made their way toward the event center.
He shook the box gently. “Sounds a bit clunky.”
“I made it for you.”
“Did you now?” he answered. He lifted the lid and stared at the circle. And it wasn’t just any circle.
“It’s a stool. It was my camp project,” Sebastian announced. “I cut and sanded the wood, then I put the legs on it, using real nails, and then I painted it. Take it out and look.”
Raz complied, studying his son’s gift.
There were names painted on the seat.
Many names.
Aug, Luanne, Briggs, his bloody prick chat group friends and their fiancées and children, Granny Fin, Callista, Calliope, Madelyn, Harper, Maud, Bob, Plum, and Beefcake.
In the center, Sebastian had painted two donkeys with a boxing glove between them. He added Meredith, Mibby, Sebastian, and Erasmus in white paint over the red glove.
“Granny Fin showed me pictures from when you were starting out in boxing,” Sebastian began. “You had two stools in your corner, one for Aug and one for Mum. But now, you’ve got everyone, right there, on one stool. I added the donkeys because they love you, too.”
He ran his fingertips over the names. “This might be the most thoughtful gift anyone’s ever given me, lad. Thank you.”
“Turn it over. I painted a rock stack on the backside the same color you and Mibby like. The color that’s everywhere when we’re together.”
