“What’ll you give me if I don’t?”
“A dollar.”
I snorted. “I’m not cheap like your son—and wow, I wish that hadn’t come out like that.”
“Gross, dude,” Creed said. “Stop calling my child a cheap trick. That’s fucked-up.”
“Shut up.”
“You’re going to get through this, you know?”
I sighed. “You think?”
“Yeah. If there’s anyone that can do it, it’s you, Bear. You—man, I know I don’t say this often enough, but you’re the strongest person I know, okay? Like, I don’t know that anyone could have done what you did. You’re aces in my book, dude. I love you. And if you tell anyone I got all gay with you on the phone… well. That’s fine. I’m secure in my masculinity. In fact, you can tell anyone you want. Because I’m sensitive.”
“I love you too.”
“Yeah, yeah. I know. You’ve got this, okay? You and Otter. Hell, consider it practice for when you finally stop being a little bitch and get my brother pregnant.”
I sputtered a long time after that.
IT TOOK him a long time—well over a year—before he came to us and a
pologized, eyes pointed toward his feet, hand twisting in his pocket. “I just—I’m going to get better. I’m going to be better.”
I cried a little.
He made fun of me, telling me I was getting soft in my old age, and if I worried any more, I’d lose more hair than I already had, and man, didn’t it look like my hairline was receding even more?
I threw a magazine at his head in outrage.
Otter rolled his eyes and said he didn’t know why he put up with either of us.
The Kid and I both said bullshit at the same time.
We both looked a little startled.
Then we laughed.
It was a start.
3. Where Bear Makes a Decision
FINALLY ONE April he came to us again, looking more nervous than he’d been in a long time.
“I had a thought,” he said as we sat around the kitchen table, the windows open, the spring air clean and warm.
“Don’t hurt yourself,” Otter teased him.
“I’m serious!”
“Hi, Serious, I’m Otter.”
We gaped at him.
“What?” he asked, arching an eyebrow at us.
“Did—did you just make a dad joke?” the Kid asked faintly.