“Thank you. Will you adopt me? I can’t take this oppression anymore,” Gage said, leaning into Kash’s arms.
Kash held him, trying not to think about how, just a few years ago, Gage wasn’t as tall as him. Or how eighteen years ago, he could hold him in the crook of his elbow andhe barely reached the end of his fingers with his tiny little feet.
“Don’t toy with my emotions right now. This is a big deal,” Adele told him. “This is the first time you’ve been left home alone.” He looked honestly distressed, and Kash let go of Gage and reached for his hand.
“It’s going to be fine. Literally everyone is in town, and Gage is an adult?—”
“He’s a teenager.”
“We were doing way worse, way younger,” Kash reminded him. “He can handle a few days on his own.”
“I won’t even be late to school,” Gage said. “Okay? Can youpleaseunclench?”
Adele pulled him close and kissed the top of his head. “Just be careful, okay? This is hard for me. I know I’ve been kind of a helicopter parent?—”
“Not even close. Trust me, I know the difference,” Lucas cut in. “But we promise to be on our very best behaviors. No drugs, no teen pregnancies. We won’t even burn anything down.”
Adele’s eyes narrowed, so Kash leaned over and grabbed his wrist. “We’re going to be late.”
Adele looked like he wanted to protest, but he eventually let Gage go and pulled Lucas in for a hug. “You’re the voice of reason. Use it.”
“It’s genuinely terrifying you think that,” Lucas said with a grin, but he hugged back. “Please have fun. Eat your weight in dim sum and try not to stress. Everything will be fine.”
Adele ruffled his hair, then seized both suitcases, leaving Kash to follow behind at his impossibly slow pace. He leaned heavily on his cane as he reached the front door, but before he could step out, Gage stopped him.
“Take care of him, yeah? He won’t let anyone else do it except you.”
Kash’s gaze dropped to his feet. “He will someday.”
Gage laughed as he rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Good one. Let us know how it goes, okay?”
Kash hugged him one last time, then stepped out and made his way to the car. Adele was already behind the wheel, and Kash knew it was because if he didn’t do this now, he never would. He’d never fully understand what it was like to lose a child to adulthood, but he could see the way it was playing out for his best friend.
“You good?” he asked, sliding into the passenger seat.
Adele sighed. “No, but yeah. I am. I know I need to cut the cord. It’s just…every time I leave him, even for an afternoon, I feel like shit.”
Kash frowned as Adele backed out of the driveway. “Why? It’s not like he’s home alone crying because he’s missing his dad.”
“Yeah, but he was that kid once.”
Kash opened his mouth, then closed it. “He doesn’t remember that, Addie. At all. He was barely a toddler, and he had me and Bowen with him. He wasn’t alone.”
Adele’s jaw tensed. “No. Maybe not, but what if you two hadn’t helped me pull my head out of my ass and I turned out like my dad? What kind of life would he have right now?”
“That was never going to happen. You were hurt, and you feel a lot. More than other people sometimes. You’ve spent your whole life trying to heal a wound on that kid that didn’t even scar. It’s okay to let go a little. He loves you more than most kids love their parents.”
Adele swallowed heavily, then nodded. “Yeah. Logically,I know. But irrationally…?” He trailed off with a laugh. “I need someone to tell me it gets easier.”
“It doesn’t,” Kash said. “But I’m willing to bet you learn to live with it when the day comes that he moves out.”
“I don’t like you.”
Kash rolled his eyes. “Yeah, you do.”
Adele laughed. “Shut up. But yeah, I do.”
They made it to DC right after six. Traffic was great until it wasn’t. They were at gridlock for what felt like a thousand years, and Kash felt like his muscles were trying to pry themselves off his body to escape the tourists lining up bumper to bumper.