Page 96 of The Falcon and the Foe

I was just as nervous. I wondered if the boys would like being brothers, but I kept that thought to myself for now. “Only one way to find out.”

Twenty minutes later, over a stack of pancakes and two large cups of coffee for the adults, we informed our sons that we were dating each other and liked each other.

“This won’t change anything,” Cal said. “We can still hang out. Scout meetings are the same. But...your dad and I will go on dates.”

“So, is Josh going to be my brother?”

Cal whipped his head to me and let out a nervous laugh. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t cross my mind for the future. Dating was like a romantic mortgage: I didn’t enter into one without long-term thinking.

“For now, he’s still your friend,” Cal said.

For now? I smiled to myself.

“Josh.” I turned to him. “I’m excited to get to know you more and do more fun activities.”

“Really?” His eyes lit up.

“This is cool. We’ll get to hang out more,” Quentin assured him with a fist bump.

“Cool,” Josh said and went back to eating his pancakes.

Cal gave me a toe tap under the table. Another day of parenting success.

28

CAL

Iwas in a relationship. A real one. It was a game-changer, although things didn’t change much in my life. Russ and I still met for lunch when we could. We still had mind-blowing sex. We still bickered over his congenital uptightness and my alleged messiness, but this time those arguments ended with a kiss.

There were some changes, though.

One afternoon, I was able to get off work and pick up Josh from school. I rarely made it to the logjam of the pickup line; I usually arranged for Josh to hitch a ride to Edith’s with another parent.

All of the A-list parents huddled on the sidewalk outside the door, anxiously awaiting their spawn. They each made a production of squatting down and wrapping their child in a hug when he or she bolted from the front doors as if the kids had been freed from a hostage situation.

At the center of the huddle stood Russ, the quarterback of the PTA, sexy as all get out in his tan peacoat. I hung back in the parking lot and bided my time until Josh showed himself.

Russ waved me over with a slight head nod, but I declined. I didn’t need to subject myself to eye-rolls and hushed criticism from the horsemen of the minivan apocalypse. I played games on my phone, looking up every now and then to check for Josh.

“Cal.”

I looked up to find that tall hunk of single dad peering into my eyes, like the PTA and the rest of Sourwood didn’t exist.

He reached out for my hand, and I could tell that he wasn’t going to let go when we got to the sidewalk.

I raised my eyebrows at him.Are you sure?

“People are going to talk,” I said.

“So let them.”

When our hands met, I was hit with a surge of invincibility, like my body was steel. No judgments or side-eye could get through. I wasn’t the lonely pariah anymore. I had an ally.

We crossed the parking lot onto the sidewalk, and predictably, parent eyes zeroed in on our clasped hands. None of the kids cared. Russ pulled me against him and pecked me on the lips. Let them all talk. They were just jealous.

“Everyone, you know Cal,” Russ said to the group.

They all waved and said hello—all except Kimber, who slapped on the fakest smile she could muster. We discussed Halloween costume plans. Parents were coordinating family costumes and hiring photographers to get pictures for the ’gram. There wasn’t much of a difference between social-media-obsessed parents and Instagays, I’d come to realize.

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