“Someone attacked him this morning. Tried to burn down the damn bar.”
“Oh, my God. Is he okay?”
Smoke just shook his head. “I don’t know. He has a head injury, and he hasn’t woken up yet. The doctors say that they think he will eventually, but they basically have no idea when.” Smoke ran his hand down his face and sat down on the armrest of the couch.
I could see how worried he was. “I’m so sorry about your friend,” I said, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“He’s not just a friend. He’s like family to me.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to this.
Gavin walked into the room a moment later and Smoke made much more of an effort to act like nothing was wrong. “Hey, G. You ready to go get some ice cream?”
“Sure. Can Mom come?”
The darkness in Smoke’s eyes seemed to fade a little as he looked over at me. “Of course, she can.”
I didn’t want to intrude on Smoke’s time alone with Gavin, but it seemed like he really wanted me to tag along, and it sounded much better than my other lowkey plans for the evening. I would have plenty of other opportunities to claim some time to myself now since Gavin and Smoke were spending more time together. “Alright,” I said, “let’s do it.”
Smoke drove us to the ice cream shop, which was a small place near the beach. This part of town was full of restaurants and entertainment, including art galleries, a movie theater, and an arcade. The ice cream shop was charming, with mint green wallpaper and a long case full of tubs of flavored ice cream. There were booths lining the walls and smaller, bistro-style tables scattered across the floor.
We went to the counter, and the number of flavor options was overwhelming.
Gavin was thrilled. He couldn’t decide between chocolate peanut butter, strawberry, and chocolate chip; so, he asked for samples of them all, finally settling on the chocolate chip in a waffle cone.
I stuck with lemon sherbert, while Smoke got a large bowl of fudgy chocolate.
Once we’d all sat down to eat together, Gavin started talking to Smoke, asking about his family and if he had any relatives that he hadn’t met yet. It hadn’t even occurred to me that Gavin might be missing out on a relationship with grandparents, aunts, uncles, or cousins.
“Actually, you have a grandpa,” Smoke told him.
“Really?”
“Yep. My dad is an ex-Army officer, he lives, about an hour away.”
“Do you have any brothers or sisters? Do I have a grandma?”
Smoke shook his head, the sadness clear in his face. “No siblings. I was an only child, and my mom died when I was a teenager. Cancer.”
“But I have a grandpa? That’s great. I can’t wait to meet him.”
Just like that, Gavin’s enthusiasm kept things light when it all could have gotten way too heavy from the grief Smoke had doubtless suffered at the loss. I counted it as a good thing, since Smoke clearly needed an escape from that sort of thing today. I’d ask him about his mom at a later time, when it was just the two of us. If we ever spent time alone together.
It did feel amazing how much we felt like a real family as we sat there, listening to Gavin talk about what he was learning in school and sharing stories about the friends he’d made since moving to Holbeck. Amazing to watch him open up around Smoke, quickly becoming more outgoing and miles away from the way he’d been the day the two met.
We finished our ice cream quickly, but it was still early, so Gavin was quick to start begging to go next door to the arcade. I started to say no, because I had missed out on work tonight, so money would be tight this week, but Smoke quickly pulled out a ten dollar bill and told Gavin to go nuts. I loved how he spoiled Gavin just a little. I hadn’t been able to do that much in his life, even when I really wanted to. He deserved a little special treatment now.
So, the two of us followed along behind our son as we walked next door. The arcade only had a few other customers, a couple of teenage boys and a pair of siblings much younger than Gavin. He would be able to play freely without long waits for his turn. I helped Gavin work the change machine, holding onto about half of his quarters as he headed straight for a shooting game.
“He likes it here,” Smoke commented as we hung back and watched him play.
There were metal benches around the arcade, and we sat down together. We were sitting so close that his thigh pressed against mine, and I felt warm all over at the contact. Even the most innocent touches from this man could ignite a fire in me. “Yeah, he’s always been crazy about this kind of thing. I used to worry that it kept him too isolated from others, playing video games all the time. But then, he got older and started using a headset to play with other kids online.”
“He has online friends?”
“Yeah, but don’t worry, I monitor it closely so that he’s not interacting with creeps.”
“Did he like living in Illinois?”