Truth & Tenderness (17 page)

Again.

Jim chasing Tripp Ingersoll. Daisy, first with Claus and now with Bennett. Griffin putting his eggs in other people’s baskets.

The Kelly family movie.

His new play.

The two things meant to realign his career were in the hands of the douche bag who had broken Daisy’s heart.

Déjà fucking vu.

“Potty!” Sadie announced, though from Jim’s expression, it was a delayed call.

“Oh crap,” Griffin said, but Jim shook his head.

“Nope, not that.”

When Daisy started to move, Jim was already up, stain on his pants and Sadie in his arms. “I got it, it’s okay. Cleaning I am totally comfortable with.”

Griffin watched Jim go, then went back to snuggling Daisy—to find that she was staring at him.

“What?”

“I can’t wait to see you guys get married,” Daisy said, and then she burst into tears.

Griffin pulled her against his chest and decided to wait to tell her they were on hold for that happy occasion.

M
AYBE
IT
was overkill, but Sadie Ames got a bath after her peeing mishap in the living room. She smacked her hands together in the bubbles, popping them and giggling at each sound. Jim dutifully brushed the purple monkey as was their ritual now—and he tried to ignore the fact that his pants had a giant stain on one leg.

He wanted a bath too.

“Dim?”

Jim stopped attending to the stuffed animal and looked down at Sadie. “Uh, yeah.” Surprised at the attempt at his name, he dropped down next to the tub. “What’s up, Sadie?”

“Dim.” She smiled brightly, pointing one little hand in his direction.

“Yeah, I guess that’s me. Dim.”

He was glad Griffin had stayed downstairs.

Finished with the conversation, Sadie went back to her bubble popping. Jim just watched her, letting the quiet feeling of caring for her wash over him.

C
LEANED
UP
and redressed, Sadie and the monkey decided to jump on Uncle Dim’s bed for a while, while he ducked into the closet to change his pants.

And shirt.

And underwear.

He’d washed his hands three times, but he still felt like he was wet in a very undesirable way.

“Freeze!” he yelled the second before he disappeared. Sadie began giggling hysterically as she lay flat on the bed. “Keep freezing!” Jim yelled again, changing quickly.

He’d burn his clothes later.

In jeans and a sweater, Jim went back into the bedroom. He and Sadie had a moment of a staring contest, with Sadie hiccupping with the giggles.

“Unfreeze!” Jim said. Sadie didn’t wait a second, jumping up to resume her bouncing.

“Uncle Griffin is a damn… darn… genius for inventing that game,” he muttered, sitting on the end of the bed as Sadie used his beloved bed like her own personal trampoline.

G
RIFFIN
GOT
Daisy to go upstairs and take a nap, maneuvering her away from the bar and the medicine cabinet. His shirt was wet, his heart hurt, and at some point he needed to call Bennett—that fucking lying asshole—and end their business relationship.

Even if they got back together, Griffin was done with trusting friends. And possibly all human beings.

Except, of course, for Jim.

He leaned against the doorjamb, watching Jim and Sadie on the bed. Sadie bounced and bounced as Jim made that purple monkey do the same. The pure delight on Sadie’s face could cure cancer, Griffin imagined. She had no idea about the turmoil or the stress her mother was facing. All she knew was jumping up and down on a bed was the best thing ever.

Griffin walked into the room, smiling when Sadie saw him and squealed, “Miff!”

“I’m Dim, by the way,” Jim said, extending his hand to Griffin.

“You’re dumb, I’m annoyed. I’ll remember that during our next fight,” Griffin remarked lightly. He dropped onto the bed next to his fiancé.

“Can we schedule that for a long, long time from now?”

Sadie fell down to her knees, looking a little dizzy. Griffin opened his arms and she happily crawled to sit on his lap. They were a cozy little group, and Griffin’s heart skipped a few beats.

“You’re really good with her,” Griffin murmured as he petted her damp, sweaty hair.

“I was thinking the same thing about you.”

Griffin flushed with delight, leaning down to drop a kiss on Jim’s forehead. Sadie sparkled at the sight, then mimicked Griffin’s move. To Jim, to Griffin, and then to the monkey.

“Dim,” she said dreamily, and Griffin started to laugh.

“You and me both, sweetheart.”

S
ADIE
, J
IM
,
and the monkey fell asleep. Daisy didn’t come out of the bedroom.

Griffin decided to act like an adult.

Downstairs in the kitchen, he found Georgia the housekeeper filling the fridge with food. Griffin caught her up with the new arrangements—temporary, he assumed. They needed toddler-type food and more milk and beer. Yeah. Probably more of that. Because it was hard to miss how they were down to nothing and Griffin hadn’t had more than two in the past week.

Georgia made sympathetic noises and promised to come back tomorrow with what they needed. Did he want soup? Maybe a lasagna?

He made puppy-dog faces at her until she threw in homemade macaroni and cheese.

She left with a list and a very large check.

Soda in hand, Griffin headed for the back patio with his phone. He didn’t want Daisy to hear this conversation, or Sadie. And if Jim was listening, he’d take over, driven by his alpha-maleitude. But Griffin was determined to do this himself.

Bennett’s private number. Griffin pressed the little phone icon as he sat on the deck chair, the evening breeze ruffling the trees overhead. In a way, he hated to soil this beautiful spot with the about-to-occur harshly spoken conversation, but maybe it would anchor him.

“Griffin,” Bennett said quietly as soon as the line picked up. “I’m so glad you….”

“This is a business call,” Griffin answer briskly. “I need to sever our relationship going forward, but we still have postproduction on the Kelly project. I expect that contract to be fulfilled.”

“If you could just listen to me.” Bennett’s broken voice didn’t sway Griffin at all. He’d felt too many of Daisy’s tears to give a shit.

“Business call—this is about the Kelly project getting its proper release. And you won’t do anything punitive because of my relationship with Daisy.”

Bennett made a wet sound. “I would never—”

“I’m going to take your word?” Griffin snapped. “After what you did? Everything you said to me was a fucking lie.”

Then there was just the sound of crying.

“We’re going to release this movie and then it’s done.”

“The play,” Bennett muttered. “You still have that. I want you and Shane to have that.”

“I’m not making money for you, asshole. No, wait—maybe I will. Then Daisy can take it in the divorce.”

“Divorce?”

The surprise in Bennett’s voice lit a fire in Griffin that singed everything in the general vicinity. “You don’t think she’s going to divorce you? You don’t think that every one of
her
friends isn’t pushing her to find a lawyer? She told me that you agreed—a lie is a deal breaker. A lie about fucking someone else makes the deal explode like a damn bomb. Stop acting so fucking surprised.”

Bennett pulled himself together after that. Griffin could hear him breathing heavily and then clearing his throat. “I need to speak to her.”

Griffin laughed at him. “No.”

“That’s her choice, not yours.”

“Good point! Has she called you? Answered her phone? No? That’s her choice.”

“Then I’m coming up there—”

Griffin actually hit his palm against his thigh at that. Hilarious—this guy was fucking hilarious. “Please do. I’ll watch from the picture window while my fiancé beats the living shit out of you, then throws you in the back of a police car. Hey, give me an ETA so I can call the press to make sure they don’t miss a frame.”

Griffin disconnected the call after that, then deleted Bennett from all his contacts. They were done, and when Daisy asked his opinion? Griffin was going to hand her a list of divorce lawyers.

M
ATT
WATCHED
Evan on the news, bookended by the twins, Elizabeth curled up against him. She hadn’t left his side since he’d walked through the door, and was clutching at his hand so desperately he hugged her for a very long time.

For both their sakes.

“Is everything okay?” she whispered under the curtain of her hair and Matt’s warm embrace.

“Everything’s fine. Uncle Jim and Uncle Griffin needed my help with some important stuff. That’s why I had to go up there.”

The explanation seemed to surprise Elizabeth; she pulled back, her eyes wide. “But Miranda said—”

“Miranda made a very easy mistake,” Matt said smoothly, catching her eye as she regarded him from the dining room. “But it’s fine—I understand how that could happen.”

Miranda rolled her eyes, but she didn’t say anything.

“Y
OU
NEED
a ride?” Matt asked after dinner was finished and the twins’ homework supervised.

“Nah. I’m meeting Kent two stops from here. We’re checking out a beer garden!”

“Mmm, hipsters drinking imported brews and eating tofu sausages—please send me the address,” Matt said, handing over her bag.

Miranda regarded him critically, hands on her hips. “Everything’s okay here? I can leave?”

“You can leave.”

“You’re not going to move out again?”

Matt matched her stance and tone. “Once upon a time you’d have been cheerleading me out the door.”

She tossed her hair, grown-up and still that willful teenager at the same time. “Well, that was before I realized you’re the only person who makes decent tacos around here.”

He smirked. “You like me.”

“Ew, no.” When she smiled and threw her arms around his neck, Matt kissed her noisily on the cheek.

After Miranda left, Matt picked up around the house. He felt like he’d been gone a month and not two days; everything felt slightly unfamiliar, like back when they lived in Evan and Sherri’s house and not Matt and Evan’s house.

The twins reappeared after homework, content to flop down on the couch with Matt again to watch television. No one mentioned Evan or when he was coming home. Elizabeth held his hand, head against his shoulder. Even Danny—stoic, quiet Danny—sat closer to Matt than normal.

This is why I came back
, Matt thought. This was why, whatever he needed to fix with Evan, he would do it—because beyond loving Evan with all his heart, these kids were his life.

The door rattled a little after nine. Matt felt Elizabeth tense up and Danny shut down; he patted them both before slowly standing.

Evan walked through the front door. In one hand, his bag. In the other, a bouquet of red roses.

D
ANNY
DIDN
’
T
stick around. He mumbled good nights, then gave Matt a half hug bro thing that Evan took to heart. His only son wasn’t affectionate like that, particularly without provocation. Elizabeth lingered, clearly afraid to go to bed.

“Everything’s fine. I told you. Go to bed,” Matt murmured to her. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Pancakes sound good, right?” Evan said, fake cheerful. Elizabeth hugged them both again, then headed upstairs.

That was when Evan realized he was standing in the middle of the foyer with a bouquet of flowers, alone with Matt. “Hi,” he started.

Matt looked at the flowers, then at Evan, and shook his head slowly. “We really need to talk, don’t we?”

T
HE
ROSES
sat between them on the kitchen table. Evan had a plate of food to ignore. Matt had his hands wrapped around a beer.

“I know I already apologized, but I want to say again—I was an asshole and I’m sorry,” Evan said evenly, more to the pork chops and less to Matt, whom he still couldn’t look in the eye, apparently.

“Right, you said.”

“And I wish I could have left earlier today, but—”

“We saw the press conference,” Matt said shortly. “And I got your text.”

“It just—popped up. Casper asked me to….”

Matt got up and stalked to the fridge.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

I need to go shopping
, Matt thought, ignoring Evan for the moment.
We need orange juice and mustard.
Matt took out another beer despite the fact that he hadn’t finished the one at the table.

“I’m not here to guide you through this, Evan.” Matt opened the beer, leaned against the fridge because distance was still something he needed. “I thought we moved past this shit.”

“Matt.”

“We settled this. You and me, together. Our relationship, our rules. Then I find myself yet again having a flashback to your old life.”