Page 34 of First Comes Forever

Carson shows me a mischievous, toothy grin before he repeats, “Fucked up.”

I howl in laughter, watching Alex’s face scrunch up. I’m pretty sure “fuck” was also on Tara’s list of words we can’t say around her son.

My brother grumbles under his breath as he opens the trunk and fetches Carson’s diaper bag and a giant stuffed duck, three times the size of my head. I raise my brows at him. “He won’t nap without it,” Alex explains.

I kiss Carson’s head before setting him down on the ground. He’s barely steady on his feet before he holds out his little hand, opening and closing it rapidly in a toddler “gimme” motion, asking for my finger. I oblige and he wraps his tentacle of a grip around my pointer finger before we shuffle across the parking lot.

“Not that I’m complaining about the surprise because I haven’t seen little man in weeks now, but why would you come help today when you had Carson? You know you’re useless while you have to keep an eye on him,” I say to Alex.

“Oh, I’m not here to help.” He pauses and points to the other side of the parking lot where the spaces are covered by a roof, protecting vehicles from the elements. His eyes are fixed on my Porsche, parked in spot 3A. “I need to know who the heck this woman is that got you to pull your favorite car out of storage. You don’t let anyone drive the Porsche.”

“That’s not true,” I intone.It’s completely true.Maybe a small part of me wanted to impress Amani. Not with the fanciness of the car, just by the fact that I was willing to share it. It’s a fucking fantastic car. She deserves to have a little fun while she can. It’s not the kind of car you put a car seat in.

“Itistrue. I asked to borrow it once,” Alex says, pulling off his sunglasses, locking eyes on me. “I believe you said ‘over my dead body.’”

“Right before you threatened to kill me.”

Alex smiles. “You gave clear instructions. Apparently, I needed a dead body to drive it.”

“Funny. Anyway, Amani and I are friends. I’m just being nice.” Wrapping my thumb around the back of his hand, I give Carson’s hand a little squeeze. “Uncle Adam’s nice, right?”

Carson strains his neck to meet my eyes. “Ice cream?”

“No, buddy, I said Uncle Adam’snice—” I stop mid-sentence. “Eh, screw it. Yes, we can go get ice cream.”

“Actually, I was hoping you could watch him tomorrow for a while? I rescheduled most of my appointments when Tara told me about her trip, but I have one patient who has a drainage situation and I need to—”

“Bleh, stop. Say no more. Me and little man can hang tomorrow. No problem.” It’s good timing. With Chase living in Denver, I’m finding myself without much to do. I’m missing the chaos, and my days are far too uneventful.

I resist the urge to scoop Carson up, and instead we take the stairs painfully slow. My nephew loves to be a big boy, but watching him swing his little legs up and over each step is kind of like watching a sloth climb a tree. After what feels like years later, we arrive at condo 3A, and I knock. Alex shoots me a quizzical look. “Isn’t this your place?”

“Not anymore,” I mutter as Amani opens the door.

“It’s still unlocked, Adam. You don’t have to knock every time,” she says, then turns her attention to Alex. “Hello, you must be Dr. Montgomery.”

“Just Alex,” he replies. She shakes my brother’s hand while her gaze shifts from Alex to me, then down to Carson. She squats so fast, in less than a heartbeat she’s eye level with my nephew. “Hi, cutie pie, what’s your name?”

I nudge a sheepish Carson forward with my knee. “This is Uncle Adam’s friend, Amani. Amani, this is my nephew, Carson. He’s here to help you move.”

Carson holds his pudgy hand timidly and Amani clasps both of her hands around his.

“It’s nice to meet you, Carson. You’re sweet to help me today. Hey, you know what? I actually have some juice boxes. Do you want a juice box?” She snaps her gaze up to Alex. “Wait, sorry, I should’ve asked first. Is he allowed to have juice?”

My brother smiles and nods. “Just don’t tell his mom if it’s not organic.”

“Why do you have juice boxes?” I ask her.

“I like them. Good portion control,” she says, shrugging. Her top knot bun knocks against her sweaty makeup-free forehead. It’s just been me and Amani for hours now, moving boxes from Building H to Building A, one by one. The manual labor was a little grueling, but at least I’ve had the privilege of staring at her freckles all morning.

“Come on, cutie. I have apple, grape, and cherry,” she says, leading Carson into my old condo toward the open concept kitchen.

Standing in place, I try to gesture Alex through, but he doesn’t move, and instead gives me a shit-eating grin. “What’s that look for?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he says, with a teasing inflection I don’t appreciate. “But I understand the Porsche now. She’s a pretty girl.”

“It’s not like that,” I say, answering the question he didn’t ask. “We’re just friends.”

Alex clasps his hand over my shoulder, patting me twice. “Sure you are.” He enters the condo, leaving me in the doorway.

---