Page 64 of You Can Make Me
I caught Cooper gazing at me wide-eyed, and I shrugged. “What? They’re the only kids I’ve been able to spoil, so I do it frequently and generously.”
Cooper touched my foot with his under the table. “You’d make such a great dad.”
“I would have liked that,” I said, feeling that hollow sensation encroaching. “It wasn’t meant to happen for me.”
He rolled his eyes. “Oh, right, old man. You act like your life is over.” He leaned close and rubbed noses with me. “Maybe it’s just starting.”
“Yeah, Den. You can join AARP at the same time you’re doing your baby registry.”
I flipped Walter off as I continued staring at Cooper. Thoughts crept into my mind that I had long ago dismissed. Ihadreally wanted to be a dad. Emma and I weren’t ready, but I’d made it clear to Renee that I wanted kids. She’d always just shrugged and said, “We’ll see what happens.”
“You better brush up on your diaper changing,” I said to Walter. “You might be a grandpa soon, Junior. Stacia and Jose seem pretty close to getting married.”
“Yeah, yeah. Fuck me. Lisa’s already preparing me that the damn kid is going to propose. I haven’t even retired yet. I’m too young to be a granddad.”
“Right. You tell your daughter that, see how well she takes it.”
The rest of dinner consisted of Cooper razzing me and Walter about all the places we could get senior discounts in town, untilDane nearly fell out of his chair laughing. I liked this. I’d missed Gene and Walter so damn much over the past few months, missed being able to run things by them when shit got real with Cooper, and now… I was thinking about regular dinners, kids and grandkids, even vacations together.
My life didn’t have to be over now that I’d retired. I’d been given a fresh start with an incredible man, and if I played my cards right, I could have him for many years to come.
We eventually retired to the living room, which was full of musical instruments, and Dane and Walter took the couch opposite from us. Walter looked happier than he had in the twenty-plus years I’d known him with Dane tucked under his arm.
“You’ve got some amazing instruments here,” Cooper said, peering around the room at the piano and the half-dozen guitars, both acoustic and electric. There was even a mini drum set, and a whole board for mixing. The cords were pushed out of the way, but it was obvious the gear was getting used frequently.
“Thanks. I’ve been working on songs with Ryan and Kal. We’re calling ourselves The Travellers.”
“They sound great,” Walter chimed in. “I get my own private concerts all the time. It’s awesome. You play?”
Cooper gazed longingly at the piano. “I haven’t played much since college.”
“I didn’t know you played, baby.”
He grinned shyly and scooted closer to me. I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and gave him a squeeze. He seemed to be flagging a bit, and I wondered if I needed to get him home. I didn’t want to overdo it on his first outing.
“Mom insisted on lessons as a kid. I majored in journalism, but I took all the music classes I could fit in. I went through a phase where I planned to become the next editor-in-chief ofRolling Stone. It was mostly to piss Dad off, as he wanted meto follow in the Harris footsteps and go national news network. Anyway, when I was offered an internship at KTLA, where I met Sam, I decided investigative journalism was truly my calling.”
“Give it a shot,” Dane said, gesturing with his head toward the piano. “Play something for us.”
I patted Cooper’s shoulder. “Want to?”
“I think I do,” he murmured. “Don’t expect much. It’s been years since I did anything other than poke around on Mom’s piano on visits home, and…” He knocked on his head. “Well…you know.”
He pushed himself up with his cane and moved cautiously toward the shiny black grand piano as if he were afraid of being rebuked by the magnificent instrument. He lowered himself carefully onto the bench and stretched out his fingers.
Dee Dee stood. “Anyone want cake?”
“Dee Dee’s cake is delicious,” Walter said, grinning at his love.
“Yes, please,” I answered absently, but my attention was fixed on Cooper.
He played a few scales while Dane served the cake slices. Dane handed mine over and then sat beside me. Cooper launched into a familiar tune and hummed along. Was that Billy Joel?
“I want to tell him the truth,” Dane whispered to me.
“Are you sure?”
He shrugged. “You love him. You two are a part of our lives. And I think he needs to know about the bad thing that happened to me.”
