Page 118 of The Leaving Kind
“Awesome. How’d your show in Brooklyn go, by the way? Wasn’t that last week?”
Victor nodded. “Week before and it went quite well. I sold all the pieces I contributed, including two from a new series.” Unaccustomed warmth touched his cheeks. “Portraits, both.”
Aaron slapped him on the shoulder. “Good for you.”
Tez had said the same thing when he’d shared the news. Cam had been there when Victor had taken the call, and Sage had sent him a bottle of non-alcoholic cider with which to celebrate. But every time Victor shared the news, a glow kindled inside him. Excitement unfurled. New directions rolled out around him. Forty years of painting and he still had so much to explore.
They’d reached the patio where Cam had the fire pit going and Oliver had given up playing with Billy in favor of commanding the grill. Tez was carrying out platters of various burgers Cam had assembled last night, grumbling all the while that he shouldn’t need to cook for his own party and then suggesting yet another low fat or vegetarian option for his friends to try.
Gray sat with Sage and Ashni.
Cori and Billy were playing with the cats.
Jorge, Estefan, Renata, Beck, Melanie, and Luisa arrived, and the patio fairly groaned beneath all the boots and shoes. Victor ran to the garage for additional chairs. He’d just set them up with Beck’s help when his phone vibrated again. He pulled it out and nearly swallowed air. Nick was in the driveway. Pocketing the phone, Victor trotted around the side of the house and popped out into the circle of cars to find Nick holding the most adorable creature ever to possess floppy ears.
“Oh my God. She’s even prettier this week.”
Nick shot him an awkward smile and made to hand over the wriggling puppy. “And furrier.”
“No.” Victor held up his hands. “I think you should give her to him.”
“You don’t want to?”
“I want to watch his face as he takes her from you.”
Nodding as though this made perfect sense, Nick set off up the path. Victor trotted close behind and overtook him before they reached the patio.
The burble of voices from the back garden filled him with happiness. His house was made for occasions such as these. For family and friends and celebration. Unable to help his grin, Victor started clearing a path to the grill. Cam stood there chatting with Oliver, pointing out the different burgers. He looked up at their approach, smiling, and then gaped.
“Nick’s here,” Victor said unnecessarily. “And he has someone we’d like you to meet.”
Nick held out the wriggling puppy.
Cam closed his mouth, opened it again, and then his expression shifted through a series of emotions too complex to capture with paint: Joy, grief, surprise, fear, consternation. All of them. Everything a man could feel and not break apart. Tears tracked down his cheeks. His lips moved.
But he didn’t hold out his arms.
The puppy wriggled and whined in the space between him and Nick, and Victor wondered, for a horrible half minute, if they’d made a mistake.
Then Nick pushed her forward, all out-sized paws and golden fur. “She needs someone like you.”
Cam took the puppy and hugged her to his chest.
Pretty much everyone on the patio cried. Victor could barely see through his tears. Still, he leaned against Cam’s side and whispered, “Do you need help picking out a name?”
Cam shook his head. “She’ll tell us who she is.” He kissed between her ears. “Won’t you, sweetheart?”
“Us?”
“I can’t raise her on my own. She’ll need me to live here, won’t she?”
Victor let out a great sigh and circled an arm around Cam’s waist. “That she will.”
Cam shifted to make room as Nick dusted invisible dirt off the retaining wall and sat next to him. He’d been watching Aaron and Gray play with the puppy and had been caught in a weird bubble of where am I and what am I doing. Some days, the noise of war and the pain of loss felt recent enough to heat his skin and dig at his heart. Other days, everything that should rest in the past remained there as distant scrapes. Significant dings in the breakfast table of life but only noticed when he looked, rather than every time he set a cup of coffee down.
Today, he felt balanced between past and present. A birthday like fifty couldn’t help but have a man thinking backward. He’d been content in his memories, though, caught up mostly in the good moments. His little bro starred in a lot of those.
“How are you doing?” Cam asked.