Page 67 of Miss Matched

I get up and walk over to the mantel. It’s lined with pictures of the two of them together—fishing, bowling, swimming. There’s an older woman on the end who has dark blonde hair and Zac’s nose, and I wonder if she’s his mom.

“He’s got a lot of good stories of the two of you. Said you guys rebuilt this house.” I skim my hand over the mantel’s solid redwood surface, noticing a thin layer of dust covers it.

Dan wears a pinched expression. “His mom leaving was hard on him. Especially him bein’ so young. We used to take on little projects, build things, keep his mind off it. When his company first took off, it brought on a lot of stress. He had me worried for a minute. That’s when he got me this place. After all, nothin’ beats the stress outta you like a sledgehammer.”

“I believe it.”

Dan leans forward. “How is he, my boy?” He tips his head to the doorway where Zac disappeared. “He doesn’t think I know what’s going on, but I see the articles.”

“Things are getting better,” I try to assure him.

“He’s got you to thank for that, I assume.” Dan’s eyebrows lift.

“I try,” I say, taking a seat. “But he’s the one who came to me, so he’s the one making the change.”

“Meh, those tabloids and their crap. Half the shit they say about him is a bunch of bullshit. I keep tellin’ him to not listen, not that it does any good.” He knocks his knuckles on his head, and it makes me laugh.

“I’m just glad he’s found a nice girl,” Dan continues. “I know he swore up and down he wasn’t the marrying kind after what his momma did, but that boy’s always had a heart in there. Just needed the right girl to help uncover it.”

“Jasmine’s a great girl.”

“Jasmine?” His eyebrows cinch.

“The woman he’s seeing,” I say. “They’ve been on a couple dates, and he seems to really like her.”

Dan shakes his head. “I don’t know about no Jasmine, but I’ve heard a great deal about you.” He points at me.

Maybe he’s confusing the fact that I’m in the center of this to facilitate, because Zac is definitely interested in Jasmine based on our conversation the other day. But Zac comes back into the room before I have the chance to analyze what Dan is saying.

“Don’t believe a word that comes out of his mouth,” Zac says with a playful grin, handing me a water glass.

“Too late,” I tell him.

Zac plops down next to me on the couch, and my cushion bounces with the weight of him. “So, Pop, what’s on the agenda today?”

Dan ticks his head upward. “There’s a leak up on the roof from all this damned rain. Think you could patch it up? I tried climbin’ on up there the other day, but I was struggling with my legs.”

“You didn’t.” Zac sighs.

“I’m perfectly capable.”

Zac leans back and lays his arm across the couch behind me. “So if I call your doctor and tell him you’re perfectly capable of climbing on the roof and fixing things, he’ll have no issue with it?”

The corner of Dan’s lip lifts, but he doesn’t argue. “Well, seein’ as you’re here, it’s a nonissue. Hop on up there and help your old man out.”

They bicker back and forth about his health until they’re at a standstill. As much as Dan claims Zac is in denial, it’s clear he’s not the only one. Dan refuses to concede he needs help, even when Zac half-heartedly threatens to not fix the roof until he admits it. But the healthy squabble turns to belly laughs and stories, and I realize they were never really arguing at all.

In this room, in this house Zac built with his dad, with Zac’s hand grazing the point of my shoulder in slow circles, I’m surrounded by laughs and banter, and I can’t help but guess—maybe this is what home feels like.

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