Page 131 of Straight Dad
“Maybe so,” Braxton replies, tipping Colt down to Emberleigh.
Still nothing from the man behind him.
“We’ll figure it out,” I pipe in. “I’d like to see it. I’m sorry I’m slowing things down with my bum leg.”
“We can figure it out.” This again from Braxton.
“Layton? Is it time to go?” I ask since he hasn’t said anything.
A curt bob of his head communicates more than just his readiness to leave this situation.
I push up and give Emberleigh a hug when she does the same. “Thank you. Dinner was delicious. You win the fastest Texas-to-vegan cooking contest.”
She smiles.
“Thanks, Braxton. Good night, Colt.” Turning to Layton, I extend a hand. “Ready?”
He takes my hand, his grip strong and sure, maybe even desperate. We make it to the door only to hear, “Unca Lay.” We turn, and Colt attempts blowing a kiss. “Bibbi.” He points. “Unca Lay.”
“Good night, little man.” Layton lifts a hand. “Emberleigh. Brax.”
When we get on the Gator, he grabs my hand and sets it on his right thigh.
“Did things get worse with Braxton after we left?”
“You didn’t hear?”
“No.”
“Let’s just say we don’t see eye to eye on everything.”
I don’t say anything in reply.
He gets us back to Kimp’s house and releases a deep sigh when he turns off the UTV. He looks to the house and back to me. It’s as if he wants to say something, but he refrains.
I wait long enough that he can, but when nothing comes, I stand, hobble for my crutches and head for the steps, the gravel shifts under my crutches and reminds me to take it slow.
“Pix? Wait for me?”
I do, and he joins me at the bottom step, sighing. “Do you know the mental mindfuck of having to think about climbing stairs?” It’s as if he’s talking to himself.
“A little.” I gesture to my crutches. “But I know it’s not the same.”
I crutch up one step, and he takes the same one. By the time we hit the top one, I can hear Kyle snuffling and whimpering. I turn to Layton. “Trust me, Layton. I mean it. Trust me, and there will come a time when you don’t have to think about stairs.”
“Promise?”
I extend a pinky, and his twists around it. “Promise.”
We enter the house to find Pop in the living room. He snaps off the television as we walk in. “Kyle has been good. Super chill. Until you pulled up and then you’d think he channeled Tigger or something. He’s glad to have you home.”
“Glad to be back.” To Layton, I add, “Is there a place I can stretch you?”
Layton extends a hand that I take. Kimp has a small smirk playing on his face as he grabs his remote.
Layton walks me to his room and pushes open the door, allowing me to walk in ahead of him. His bed is made. I don’t know why that surprises me.
He flips on a lamp and sits on the edge of his bed. Kyle rushes to sit at his feet, and Layton rubs around his ears, talking to my boy as if he’s a toddler.