Page 99 of Something Like Forever
“You were very privateabout that room.”
“Yeah,but you could have tried.” Tim felt like kicking himself forletting the conversation get this far because he knew it wouldn’tbe productive. He had tried speaking calmly to his father before,and he had also tried shouting. Nothing seemed to work. He pushedaway from the table and stood. “If you’ll excuse me, I need tofocus on my son’s wedding.”
He didn’t have to listenjust in case his father made a heartfelt plea for forgiveness, orat the very least, understanding. That never happened. Instead hewent to the living room where adults talked and watched the youngergeneration play together. Allison’s son was nearly six now,William’s daughter was four. Tim loved having children around. Hewasn’t alone. His grandmother, Nana, always made them laugh withher broken English and was currently thrilling them with exoticcandy and toys from Mexico. His mother participated too, beamingwith joy as she helped Daisy unwrap a treat. Moments like thesewere bittersweet for Tim. Unlike his father, he could talk to hismom, and Ella had apologized long ago for not giving him what heneeded when he was growing up. He didn’t harbor any resentmenttoward her because she at least had tried. She might not have donea great job, but he never felt like his mother didn’t want him. Hisfather would trade him in for a heterosexual twin without blinkingan eye, preferably one who had never put down the baseball bat infavor of a paint brush.
The doorbell rang, drawingTim away before he could get settled. When he opened the door, hefound Nathaniel standing a few steps back, his trademark scowlabsent in favor of concern. His legs were close together, blockingsomething from view.
“If thisis a bad idea,” Nathaniel said, “just say the word and I’ll takehim home again. No hard feelings.” From behind his legs, a dogpeeked at him, wearing an expression similar to that of hisowner.
“Youbrought Zero!” Tim said happily, squatting down and patting his lapin invitation.
That’s all it took. Zeroburst forth from behind Nathaniel, nearly knocking over his ownerand succeeding with Tim, who fell onto his rump and laughed, facealready wet with dog kisses. That felt good. The Siberian husky wasnothing like Chinchilla. Sure, he was a dog, but his girl had adifferent temperament, and they didn’t resemble each other in theslightest. Zero being here didn’t dredge up painful memories, butthat same canine love—perfect and pure—was like a salve on hisscorched heart.
“That’s enough,” Nathanielsaid eventually. “Zero! Come!”
The dog backed off, Timstill laughing. “It’s never enough!”
“No,” Nathaniel said,holding out a hand. “I guess it isn’t. Not for people like us. I’msorry.”
“Thanks,” Tim said, letting himself be pulled to his feet andstraight into a hug. He wasn’t expecting that!
“If there’s anything I cando,” Nathaniel said, squeezing him like a python. “Anything at all.If you want to spend time with Zero or just need someone to talkto, don’t hesitate. I mean it!”
“Thanks,” Tim managed, ribs sore when he was finally released.He didn’t know how Kelly survived those hugs! “It’s been rough, butI’ve been trying to focus on the good memories, you know? She neverliked it when I was sad.”
“Zero’s the same way,”Nathaniel said, nodding his understanding. “Or maybe he just likesthe taste of my tears. I wouldn’t put it past him.”
Tim laughed, reaching downto pet the dog again. “I’m glad he’s here. It sounds cheesy, but itkept bugging me that Chinchilla can’t be. This is an important day!There’s supposed to be a dog greeting people, getting in theway—”
“—knocking down waiters for their trays,” Nathaniel said with atwinkle in his eye. “Zero would be honored to represent her. Justfor this day.”
“I thinkshe’d like that,” Tim said, emotion rising as it so often did as oflate. “It’s good you’re here. It helps to be around someone whogets it.”
Nathaniel shook his head.“It’s a day I dread. I know there’s a price to be paid. I justdon’t like to think about it.”
“Cherishevery moment,” Tim said. “That’s all you can do. Come on in. Yourhandsome husband will be glad to see you too.”
“Speaking of ill-behaved creatures,” Nathaniel said. He heldout the leash. “Would you care to do the honor?”
“I’d love to,” he said,accepting it.
“Just don’t let him ripyour arm out of its socket,” Nathaniel warned.
A little too late, becauseTim was yanked forward, but he didn’t mind. He laughed as Zerodragged him into the house. The dog raced for the nearest crowd, inthis case the people gathered in the living room, where he divedright in. The kids shouted with delight, eager to pethim.
“Maybewe should take him out back,” Nathaniel said, watching with uneasehow Zero stomped over everything and nearly head-butted Nana inattempt to kiss her.
“Can we go with him?”Davis asked.
“Okay,”Tim said, raising his voice to make an announcement. “Everyone whois ten or younger, outside, right now!”
The kids led the way witha cheer, Zero close behind. Tim and Nathaniel followed, the dog setfree from his leash once he was safely in the fencedyard.
“Maybe I should have hadyou sign a waiver first,” Nathaniel said, eyeing the setup. “Thisis really nice!”
“Thanks,” Tim said.
The wedding wasn’t sodifferent than his own had been, although they had learned fromexperience. Catering was inside this time, the food safe from theTexas heat and sun. Tables had been set up on one side of the yardbeneath white umbrellas so people could enjoy their food in theshade. No seats had been assigned or anything complicated. Thereweren’t any chairs at all! Those were currently in rows in front ofthe gazebo. They would be moved to the tables after the ceremonyinstead of having to be cleared away to make room for dancing. God,he hoped he wouldn’t have to dance this time! People in mourningshouldn’t dance. That’s what he would claim, anyway. On each sideof the patio were two more tables, one set up with sound equipmentfor the DJ, the other already filled with gifts. Everything waswhite: tablecloths, flowers, and all the lacey gauze that popped upat weddings like weeds in a garden.
