Page 8 of A Layperry's Hope
“I’m just saying!”
Miles shakes his head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“Thank you,” I say, puffing up my chest.
Timalah comes back into the room with a freshly changed Druim. The little guy is up and running around the house. I don’t understand how that can even be possible! He should still be a swaddled little thing hanging from Timalah’s hip, right?
“Hey, lil Corn Man,” I say, holding out my hands for him. Druim picks up a toy from the corner of the room and starts running towards me. Then he stops a few feet away, cocks his little arm back, and yeets the toy at me. I’m so unprepared that I don’t get my hands up in time. The toy smacks the side of my head.Hard.
“Druim!” Miles says in shock. “Sweetheart, toys are for throwing outside, not inside.”
Druim’s tail whips back and forth behind him as he babbles to his dads. “Ball! Outside! Ball!”
I feel like my bell has been properly rung and if I were in a cartoon, little aliens would be swirling around my head. The kid has an arm on him already! I’m so fucking proud.
I get down on the floor so I can properly play with my godson. He’s quick and has far more balance and coordination than I thought someone his age would have already. He’s almost managed to start talking in full sentences instead of just shouting noises at me.
“So,” I say, rolling the ball across the room to Druim. “Who’s the lucky bastard who stole my house?”
Timalah and Miles share another look. They’re hiding something from me. I’m doing my best to be understanding but it’s really starting to piss me off. I’m a grown man. They don’t need to hide shit or try to protect me.
“About that,” Timalah says slowly. “Maybe you should go over there and see for yourself?”
“Is that really the best idea, Timalah? Maybe we should tell him first. Let him get his feelings out now.”
“I hate you both,” I say, standing up. “Not you, Druim, you’re perfect. But you two suck,” I say, pointing at Timalah and Miles. I grab my bags and head for the door. “You’re not gonna tell me so I’ll go find out for myself. Then I’ll head back into town and find a place to stay for the night.”
“Christian, wait.”
“No,” I say, turning back to Miles. “I’m fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“I’ll be here if you need me,” Miles calls out as I make my way across the street. Why would I need him? Why are they acting so strange? Why am I so nervous?
I walk up the step to my old porch. After taking a breath, I knock on the door that used to be mine. It feels so strange, being on this side of it. I wait. There’s some shuffling and some voices behind the door.
My stomach starts to sour the longer I wait. I don’t know if I should knock again to make sure they heard me or just leave and head into town. Indecisiveness keeps my feet planted in place. I wait. Just before I can turn to leave, the door swings open.
My breath is stolen from my lungs. The person staying in my house is Ghenie. My eyes widen as I take him in. My stomach swoops and my chest warms. He’s just as beautiful as I remembered him. Even though we’ve shared a kiss today, that does nothing to stave my desire for him. While I was gone, he was never far from my mind.
I still feel all those insecurities when I look at him. He has it all and I’m just me. But now I know a lot of those thoughts aren’t my own, they’re baby Christian’s hurts. I’m worthy of love just as much as anyone else.
“Hello, Christian,” Ghenie says softly, his voice like the sweetest honey dripping straight from the comb.
All I want to do is stand here and memorize everything about him. His eyes are pale but shine so brightly, his smile is soft. His skin practically radiates. He’s tall and strong and handsome and I feel so fucking insignificant before him. How could someone so beautiful give someone like me a second glance?
As my eyes dart over him, they stop on the unexpected person against his chest. Is that a baby? Whose baby? And why do they look human?
The baby looks a few months old at most. They’ve got unruly dark hair on their head that reminds me so much of baby pictures of myself that I’ve seen. I look up at Ghenie who’s staring at me, gauging my reaction.
I think my head might actually explode. First my best friend was being weird. And now Ghenie is being weird. And there’s a baby on his chest.
What the fuck is going on?
I open my mouth but no words come out. I look down at the baby, then back at Ghenie, and then back down at the baby again. My head is spinning faster than a top.
“Christian,” Ghenie says slowly. “This is Maribel. My daughter.”
I swallow thickly, doing my best to keep myself composed. I drop my bags and the clunk of them hitting the ground makes us both flinch.
