Page 107 of The Guy in the Alley

I returned to Ma and sat down on the blanket, making sure I could see Alvin.

Ma was one step ahead. She poured me a mug and handed me a cookie.

“Fuck yeah. Thanks.”

“I’m the one who owes you thanks, son,” she said, adjusting the umbrella a bit.

“Huh?”

“Both you and Trace,” she added.

Ah. She was talking about Trace’s plans for the future. Which…fine, I dared to call them my plans now too. Trace proved that every single day. He wanted this as much as I did.

“You didn’t think I’d stick you in a home, did you?” I furrowed my brow.

She chuckled softly and stirred creamer into her own coffee. “Well, no, but I can’t tell you how many of my girlfriends feel like a burden around their families. Did I tell you about Margaret’s sons? They made a schedule to determine who got stuck visiting her.”

She’d told me more than once.

“The younger generation tends to forget we can still be useful,” she said.

She wasn’t wrong there. Not that we wanted her around because of her cooking and whatever. She’d raised me up. She’d taken care of Alvin. She’d been there for me for far longer than any parent should.

I took a swig of my coffee. “You got Trace hooked on your cooking, so the expectations are high for the day you move in.”

She smiled. “I do like that boy very much. He’s so good for you too.” She nodded at the water. “And for Alvin.”

I followed her gaze and saw the two together. I sat a little straighter in reflex. Alvin was out farther, the water reaching his chest, but he was holding both Trace’s hands, and they shared matching grins.

Ma was right, and I already knew that from before. Slowly getting Alvin’s room ready had proved that more than once. Trace was bolder. Careful but bolder.

He drew out the more…teenage aspects in Alvin. It was easy for me to treat my son like a kid, partly because I was a tad overprotective, partly because I’d spent years missing him when I couldn’t be there every day. So whenever I got my opportunity, I coddled him.

I went out and bought baking soda for him. Trace was the one who said, “Okay, let’s go, bud!”

We’d discovered that Alvin could handle going to our two nearest convenience stores without problems. They were just a few blocks away. Then, once there, he’d hit a wall and screwed his eyes shut. The first time, Trace hadn’t batted an eye. He’d called an Uber to take them home. Three blocks. Now, we timed it so I could pick them up after work.

I was probably always going to hate myself on some level for holding Alvin back. Not necessarily with my fussing, but with my inability to be there for him as much as he needed. If I’d just had a steady job the whole time, we would’ve had more stability. More security. And I would’ve been able to push him the way he needed to be pushed.

Maybe I was sleepy enough that my internal defenses were down, ’cause I admitted these thoughts to my ma, and she just shook her head at me.

“What?” I got a little testy. Maybe. “You know it’s true. He’s had too much instability in his life. Too many worries. You can’t push yourself to go to the store when you’re suffering from anxiety because you don’t know when Dad will come around again.”

At that, she scoffed. “Are you hearing yourself, boy? Please apply that same logic to your own situation. Or are you blaming your rough years on yourself? Because that would be seriously stupid.”

I scowled.

“You got dealt a crappy hand, son,” she said. “You didn’t have enough family around you. Lindsey passed away—God rest her soul. Your industry all but collapsed. How many smaller businesses did you see go down the past ten or fifteen years?”

I lowered my gaze to my mug.

“And you have a son who needs extra help,” she went on. “You can’t be everywhere and do everything, Ben. You can’t be two parents and a full-time provider under those circumstances. You just can’t. But you never stopped trying, and that’s what matters. You sacrificed everything so that Alvin could be okay. You lived with friends, you gave up having your own home, and every penny you earned went to him.”

I let out a long breath and sipped from my coffee. It was fucking hard hearing this from her. Logically, I knew she was right. If this had happened to Garrett or Angie, I never would’ve blamed them like I blamed myself.

“Think about the future instead,” she advised. “You finally have a partner. Someone who’s as crazy as you are.”

I sent her a sideways smirk.

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