Page 15 of A Reluctant Boy Toy
“I tried to get some good shots of the baby with Ariel, but she shooed me out to find her some decent food.”
“All right. While I wait for your next call, I’ll watch the moon to see if it’s missing a goddess.”
“You’re thinking of Hecate, bro. Artemis is goddess of wild creatures. Artemis Kivi Wilder.”
“Wow, what a name. Tell the goddess of wild things that Hades and Persephone are doing an awesome job. Ariel too. She would be very proud.”
“I will.”
“Love to all of you,” I said. “I’ve gotta go. We’re shooting in five minutes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you just had a baby, you idiot. Take care of them. Family is everything.”
“See you soon, bro.”
“Bye.” I muted my phone, and just as I expected, pictures started pouring in. Newborn Artemis, squalling Artemis, sleeping Artemis, sated Artemis, all captured in the arms of a tired, relieved, and spacey-looking Ariel.
He finally sent a picture of the three of them together. Unthinking, I smoothed my fingers over the screen. The warmth of family had been missing from my life for so long I had the compulsion to try to capture it.
I was tempted to make Tag’s first family picture the lock screen image on my phone, but I couldn’t bring myself to replace the one of me and Serena and our three kids. I’d been carrying that picture since before my last deployment, back when the boys were still babies.
Newborn Lincoln was bundled in his mother’s arms. Jesse, at eighteen months, sat on my knee. Sadie was three, I think, almost four when the portrait was taken.
Because of that lock screen, my phone was a magic box that held my perfect little family in stasis, as whole and beautiful as the day we’d said goodbye, never realizing it would be our last goodbye before everything fell apart. I’d showed that picture to everyone who would look at it, despite knowing that in the movies, the guy who buys it is always the one who shows off pictures of his kids.
Six months later, I came back with half my face missing and enough trauma to cause me a lifetime’s worth of anxiety.
It had once been a comfort to carry the picture with me.
Now it was a painful reminder that nothing lasts forever.
Whatever untruths my family portrait said about the new me, I’d never been able to replace it, even with more recent pictures of my growing children’s lives. It wasn’t that I lived in the past. I’d learned from it.
A little later, Hades and Persephone did take after take after take for the minute they’d be seen on the show. The director got the shots he wanted, and the hurry-and-wait part of my day was over.
In fact, myjobwas over. After the powers-that-be signed off on our work, Hades, Seph, and I could make our leisurely way home to Colorado with the thanks of a grateful television crew and a check for more money than I’d earned during my entire time in the service. Ariel would probably know how to feel about it, but for me finishing on the set was another bewildering misfire of emotions I couldn’t interpret.
I’d have left right away, except I’d agreed to stay and have dinner with Sebastian Keye. If I didn’t drink anything stronger than Coke, I could still leave after. Traveling by night I could avoid traffic and make the acquaintance of my new niece that much sooner.
I could have canceled on Sebastian, but I didn’t because…Why?
Because he intrigued me. That was the honest truth. Because he was a TV star. Because the day before, while Hades and Seph waited in the pen in the clearing, I spent a few minutes watching Sebastian do good work.
And most of all, because I liked him.
In makeup and a sleek, all leather getup with iridescent contact lenses, Sebastian Keye was one seriously compelling sight. He wasn’t a scenery chewer like some of the kids. He acted with honesty. He gave his character a certain complexity. He’d obviously given his role a great deal of thought. Plus, he’d honed his craft for the small screen while the others—it was easy to see—had spent more time on the stage and couldn’t scale things down.
Sebastian’s vampire was subtly menacing. Every word he spoke had layers of meaning. He used his face to convey emotion and held his body to a stillness that felt…well, it felt undead, I guess. Sebastian might have had hidden conflagrations burning inside him, but he’d learned somewhere to focus that heat with laser precision.
I was impressed. His obvious talent made me glad I’d agreed to have a meal with him later. If nothing else, I could tell little Artemis this story—what her Uncle Stone did the day she was born. Later, when she would no doubt have a crush on some TV heartthrob, I could remind her of it.
Maybe I could reconnect with my family over stories about dinner with a teen film star. After being blown up, Sebastian Keye asking me to dinner was the second strangest thing that had ever happened to me.
My phone vibrated again. I expected another picture of the most adorable child in the world besides mine, except it wasn’t from my brother. It was from Sebastian.
Keye:Looks like I’ll be working late. I’m so sorry we won’t get our dinner tonight. What about tomorrow night?
