Page 26 of The Legend Next Door
“Well, there’s my Aunt Lissa, and my friend Vanessa, and Marcus, a—”
Luca’s eyes are wide, and there’s a trace of hesitation in them. “What about me, Jelly? Do you like me more than ice cream?”
Jeremiah doesn’t skip a beat. “Are you kidding me? I like you more than I like salted caramel, and that’s my all-time favorite flavor.”
The thing is, when he says it, I believe him. He’s completely sincere. I realize, not for the first time, I was right. My initial assessment of him was correct. Jeremiah Blake is a nice person. More than that, he’s a good person.
Luca looks happy in the way only kids do. Over-happy. More than happy. So happy his eyes and cheeks shine and the whole world feels like a brighter place than it did before.
My own eyes start to sting suddenly and with such venom at the sight of him, it takes me by surprise.
Jesus. What the fuck?I rub the corner of one eye hard and take a few quick breaths through my nose.I’ve had this shit bottled up inside me for fucking ages, and now it’s threatening to come out in broad daylight, at the dinner table, with my son and neighbor in attendance?
No, thank you.
I blink a few times and swallow a mouthful of ice cream that tastes salty despite being chocolate chip, not salted caramel. Fortunately, Luca and Jeremiah carry on the conversation and don’t notice anything amiss.
When we finish our ice cream, I top up the wine glasses and serve the casserole. To my surprise, we all eat a good portion, even Luca.
“See, Dad,” he says smugly as he helps me scrape the plates, “dessert before dinner didn’t ruin my appetite. I think it actually made me hungrier for real food.”
“It was a treat, sweetheart,” I say. “Don’t get used to it.”
“But Jelly—”
“Your dad’s right, Luca,” says Jeremiah. “Don’t get used to it. Much as I love ice cream, I love being big and strong more, so I eat my two servings of fruit and three veggies every day. Actually, most days I try for five veggies. When I’m feeling snackish, I squish up a bunch of leafy greens into a tight ball and shove it into my mouth. That’s how much I love it.”
“Really?” I mouth as Luca puts his plate in the dishwasher. Jeremiah shakes his head, checking furtively to make sure Luca isn’t looking and mouths back. “Bleurgh, no. I’d rather eat arsenic.”
We hang out in the kitchen for a while and then move to the living room. Luca plays at our feet but loses interest in us eventually and starts darting back and forth to the playroom, bringing an armful of toys with him each time. I’ve had two and a half glasses of wine in quick succession, so I don’t mind in the slightest. I’m a chill guy tonight. A cool dad. A mildly tipsy dad but a fun one.
I tell Jeremiah all about my altercation with the sofas a few weeks back, and for good measure, I follow it up with a dramatic reenactment. Jeremiah is also mildly drunk and thus on the same wavelength as me, so he finds it hilarious.
In the blink of an eye, I realize it’s time for Luca to go to bed. Jeremiah and I have opened another bottle of wine, so I say, “Don’t go yet. I won’t be long,” as I take Luca upstairs. “He’s tired. He’ll go out like a light.”
The house is quiet but not empty. It’s nice. I come down the stairs feeling lighter than usual, knowing someone is waiting for me. Jeremiah is on the sofa, legs tucked under himself, cradling his empty glass in one hand. He’s looking up at the stairs and smiles as soon he sees me approaching. It’s a funny smile, almost sheepish but not quite.
“You okay?” I ask.
He doesn’t answer, holding up his glass toward me instead. I top him up generously, and I top myself up generously too. “Want to watch something?” I ask, picking up the remote and handing it to him. “You can choose. What are you in the mood for?”
“Hockey,” he says. “Always hockey!”
I snort and wave him off. “We don’t have to watch hockey.”
“But Ilovehockey. Why don’t we watch the one where you scored so many goals they all threw their hats onto the—”
“Huh?”
“Or, I mean, no. No, you’re right. Let’s watch whatever’s live.”
The Mounties are playing the Wranglers, and it looks set to be a close game. I’ve been keeping an eye on highlights and scores, but I haven’t watched much hockey recently. I’m in the mood for it tonight though. I think I could take in a game right about now and not feel like I’m dying.
“Ooh, I love this part,” says Jeremiah when the centers face off. “Who do you think’s going to win? Call it quickly, or you have to drink.”
I call Levi Goodwin, the Wranglers’ star player. He calls, “The one that looks easy to draw.”
He loses.
