Chapter 11

Trace Kalecki

“That’s it for the bread!” I hollered.

“I’ll go see if we have something else.” Tonya hurried out of the Green, while Marisol and I poured extra soup into the cups.

Julie stood in the doorway, and we exchanged a look.

“About twenty more,” she said.

I nodded in confirmation. Twenty more heads wasn’t a huge miscalculation on our part. We’d find something.

It was dicey before payday. Twice a month, we had services where more visitors showed up at the soup kitchen because money just didn’t stretch the whole way till the next check arrived.

Julie went to give Tonya the estimate, and as she left, Ben entered. He’d just woken up by the looks of him.

I smiled politely at the guy I offered a cup to, then turned to Ben. “Mornin’, sunshine.”

He yawned and pressed a quick kiss to my temple. “Need a hand?”

“No, we’re almost done.”

He’d pitched in plenty this morning, after he’d gotten off his night shift. Tonight was his last shift for this round, meaning he was off tomorrow. When we were heading to the lake with Alvin, Elsie, and Angie.

Alvin wanted to take water samples and test the pH.

I was gonna buy the biggest slushie I could find on the way and then sit my fine ass down in the shade with Elsie.

We’d been threatened with summer heat all week.

It was good for Alvin, though. We were taking him out on more frequent day-trips, and he was slowly finding enjoyment in a bit more variety in his daily routine. As long as we could protect him from too much commotion, I thought it was going great. And Ben was overwhelmingly relieved, which also helped him get over Ziggy being gone.

That dog had his own Instagram account now, but even Ben had his limits.

“I’m not joining social media to see the same shaggy mug every day. I’ll see him when your folks come back for Thanksgiving.”

Tonya and Julie returned with a crate a couple minutes later, and it was filled with a mix of cheesy bread and hot dog buns.

“We checked with Petey first,” Tonya added.

“That’s great. Thank you.” I took a step back to have a swig of water.

I turned to my man and touched his scruffy cheek. “I think I should drive tomorrow. At least on the way up.”

After all, even though he’d be off tomorrow, he’d be on call all night.

Someone always called.

“We’ll see how it goes.” He yawned again and smiled sleepily. “It’s gonna be fun. Ma’s excited—she’s doin’ it up big with a picnic.”

“Score.” I loved her cooking.

It was good for her to get out more too.

“Angie better like me,” I said. “Shit’s going so well, it’d be my luck if she hated my guts.”

He chuckled and shook his head. “You got nothing to worry about.”

I hoped not.

* * *

Friday morning, I was up at the crack of dawn, before Ben even came home from work.

They’d been on his ass all fucking night, so I was definitely driving.

I’d checked with my dad last week to make sure I could borrow his truck, so it was already parked outside.

I packed a bag for us. Towels, trunks—brand-new pair for Ben—a power bank, and a thermos filled with a fresh pot of coffee. Ben was gonna need it.

He walked through the door at a little past seven and couldn’t stop yawning.

“You’ll sleep in the car, baby,” I told him.

He grumbled something and crushed me in a hug.

I smiled and squeezed him back. “How about a back rub later?”

He groaned. “Fuck, I love you.”

I grinned and kissed his neck. “Let’s go pick up the others.”

“Oh, right—” He straightened and absently scratched his bicep. “Angie’s driving her own car. She had some work to finish up, so she’ll join us later.”

“Okay, cool. And in case she hates me, she can flee the scene.”

He rolled his eyes, amused. “You’re cute, but she already knows the worst part about you.”

I frowned. “Which is?”

“That you’re a Cubs fan, fucking obviously.”

That motherf?—

I couldn’t wait for my family to descend on his Soxy ass.

* * *

So the trick to get Alvin to enjoy a whole day out was to drive two goddamn hours—because we avoided the tolls, of course—up to fucking Kenosha, where we could find solitude along Kennedy Drive.

We were literally entering Wisconsin.

The best view was in the rearview, and I was referring both to Chicago and the O’Cleary boys. Ben and Alvin were fast asleep, Alvin with his noise-canceling headphones and Ben with his shades. Both of them had their arms folded too, but only the elder was snoring.

I smiled to myself and drummed my fingers along the wheel as a new song came on. Fucking perfect. Def Leppard. Best summer music if anyone asked us. Ben’s only objection was when I called the music old.

“Are you working tonight, dearie?” Elsie asked.

“I’ll pitch in if it gets busy after nine,” I replied.

We’d be home by then.

“What’cha knitting?” I asked.

“A new beanie for Alvin,” she answered. “He’s very fussy about the material, you see. If it’s remotely scratchy, he’ll get enraged.”

Oh yeah, I’d heard about that. Not specifically about Alvin, but I’d been doing some reading when I was in the bathroom lately.

“Feel this.” She held up the bundle of yarn, and I touched it and lifted my brows. Damn, it was really soft.

“You could have lettering across it,” I said. “‘I didn’t choose the rage. The rage chose me.’”

Elsie side-eyed me over her glasses. “Sometimes you say things, and I have to make sure it’s not Ben speaking.”

I grinned.

She smiled softly, a bit wryly, and turned back to her knitting. “Unfortunately, Alvin takes after his father’s crass humor, so I might as well. He’d find that funny.”

Yeah? Another point for me.

I jumped slightly when I felt a hand on my shoulder, and then the arm followed.

I checked the rearview and threaded our fingers together, and I saw Ben leaning against the back of my headrest.

I kissed his hand.

“Where are we?” he asked through a yawn.

“We can start lookin’ in ten minutes,” I said. We had the lake to our right, gorgeous as hell, but we were about to circle a country club. And find a slushie for me. The GPS promised I wouldn’t have to wait long.

“Did you have a good nap, sweetie?” Elsie asked.

“Yeah, till Alvin knocked his headphones in my face.”

I laughed.

“I like that beanie idea, by the way,” Ben told his ma. “He’ll love that.”

Elsie sighed. “Almost fifty years old, and my son is still a hell-raiser.”

She didn’t know what hell-raising was.

* * *

We found a good spot near a beach just south of Kenosha, where the closest people around were trapped in the cars driving by up on Kennedy.

The shoreline right here was one-part beach sand and one-part big rocks, and then we had some trees shielding us from most of the traffic. It was definitely worth the drive, even more so when I walked closer to the water’s edge. The water was clear and almost turquoise, but most importantly, I could see the bottom for at least forty or so feet.

“It looks great, but it gets deep fast,” I said, returning to the others.

Ben was helping Elsie with a big blanket in the shade of the trees.

I didn’t foresee anyone intruding. The parking spot we’d found was nearby, but so was a public beach. People were bound to pick that over the narrow strip we’d found just off the side of the road.

“Are you gonna swim, Dad?” Alvin asked.

“Of course I am, and so is Trace,” Ben replied.

I scrunched my nose. I mean, I hadn’t decided yet…

This wasn’t Florida.

I needed my air cold and my water warm. In other words, I was fucked either way.

Alvin brought out a notepad from his backpack and had another question for his old man. “Have you ever been to Lake Superior?”

“Uhh…yeah, a few times as a kid.” Ben nodded. “What’re you writing?”

“Water-related stuff,” he responded. “Is the water in Lake Superior warm in the summer?”

Ben and I exchanged a smirk, and I sat down on a rock to kick off my shoes. My blue and red slushie was waiting for me too.

“Lemme put it this way, son,” Ben started. “If anyone ever tells you the water is nice in Lake Superior, you need to cross a bridge and head south because you’ve been talking to a Yooper.”

I cracked up, wishing Armas were here. Every time I came across a U.P. joke, I went to him. He was from there.

“Okay.” Alvin jotted that down.

“Enough joshing around, boys,” Elsie said. “Come eat. What we had on the road doesn’t deserve to be called breakfast.”

What? We’d bought donuts.

“Did you ever hear that joke about two Yoopers walking out of a bar?” I asked Ben.

He laughed and nodded. “Classic.”

“I don’t get that one.” Alvin grasped Ben’s arm. “Explain it to me?”

Ben put his arm around his boy. “You know how a lot of those jokes start with someone going into a bar?”

“Yeah, I’ve heard many of those,” Alvin confirmed.

I grinned to myself and walked over to Elsie, and Ben handled the explanation like a champ until Alvin was laughing too. Or snickering, at least. Sometimes, I could tell he mostly wanted to mirror his dad, and it was sweet.

Eventually, Ben and Alvin sat on the blanket too, and our offers to help were turned down. Elsie looked to be happy about slinging food to us, so I had zero complaints. She’d made us sandwiches, cookies, and a pasta salad with kielbasa, feta, greens, and sun-dried tomatoes.

Ben brought out his phone to let me know Angie was on her way. Twenty minutes to go. He texted her back with our exact whereabouts, and I did my best to manage my nerves. I mean, I knew he was right. I had no reason to worry. Ben and Angie still met up for lunch at least once or twice a week, and he’d told her plenty about me. But still. For every day that passed, I fell even harder for what we had going on, and it’d destroy me if I lost it.

I’d been vocal about that too, which I was sure had helped Ben relax more. ’Cause it was still his default mode to take up less space, and I wanted the opposite.

We were getting there.

“I think you might be right,” Alvin said. “I’ll probably need to go to the truck after we’ve eaten.”

“You say the word, and I’ll walk you back there,” Ben assured.

“You feeling overwhelmed, Alvin?” I asked.

He nodded hesitantly. “I can feel it coming sometimes. Like a little headache.”

I could relate to that, at least. I didn’t get overwhelmed or anxious; I just got moody as fuck and suffered the occasional tension headache.

“When I was a kid, my ma would keep me close and put a towel or blanket over me,” I mentioned, nodding in thanks as I got my sandwich. “It actually helped. Till it got too hot.”

He quirked a curious smile. “I could maybe try that.”

Either way, we were prepared. We’d parked in the shade for a reason, in case he needed breaks.

Ben gave my leg a squeeze and bit into his sandwich, and I followed suit.

Fuck, that was good. Couldn’t go wrong with cold cuts and cheese.

“What kind of cookies did you make, Ma?” Ben was eyeing the container.

“Your favorite—chocolate with white chocolate chip,” Elsie replied.

“Fuck yeah,” he and I said in unison. I’d tried them once before, and they were out of this fucking world. Because she sprinkled some extra salt in there. They were just amazing.

As we ate and talked, it was easy to lose track of time. We made loose plans for Thanksgiving, mostly because my mom had asked me to put feelers out. They were hosting Thanksgiving at Sarah’s house, and Ben and his family were obviously invited.

“That sounds lovely, dearie,” Elsie said. “Give me your mother’s number so I can call her. I will not show up empty-handed, and Ben needs his roasted green beans.”

We all had our musts for Thanksgiving. I put up a fight if I didn’t get Ma’s garlic potatoes.

She’d forgotten one year. But we didn’t discuss the Thanksgiving Debacle of 2016. No garlic potatoes and no potato rolls. It’d been horrible.

As I polished off my paper plate with pasta salad, I spotted a woman walking alongside the road with a big purse, a cooler, and an umbrella, the kind you stuck in the sand on the beach, so I nudged Ben.

“Is that Angie?”

He looked up and nodded, so when he rose to his feet, I did the same.

“I’ll go help her,” he said. “Aunt Angie’s here, bud.”

Alvin perked up.

I followed Ben up on the rocks and between the trees, ready to show I was the best boyfriend ever.

Ben pulled me in quick and pressed a kiss to my temple. “Relax. She knows you’re the love of my life. Okay?”

Whoosh. Shit like that worked!

I smiled and kissed his jaw. “Okay. Good. And ditto, FYI.”

He smiled back and grabbed my hand.

Seconds later, we met up with Angie, who instantly used Ben as a coat hanger.

“This is just too fucking hot for me,” she said, out of breath. “I mean, hi.”

Ben chuckled and shouldered both the bag and the cooler, and he grabbed the umbrella too. “Hey. This is Trace.”

I cranked up my politeness, and at the sight of Angie smiling and then—yeah, okay, we were hugging. I had nothing to worry about.

“It’s good to finally meet you, Trace.”

Relief hit me, and I let out a breath. “Great to meet you too.”

“I guess now’s a good time to tell you something about Angie,” Ben said. “She’s a Cubs fan.”

I widened my eyes at him and inched back from Angie. “You tell me that now? After everything—after what you said— You fucking asshole! I’ve been worried we wouldn’t have anything in common!”

Ben got jokingly defensive. “Why would I intentionally bring up something like that? She’s the black sheep of the family.”

Angie cracked up and smacked Ben’s arm. “Yeah, that sounds plausible. Black sheep for having grown up on the North Side. Freakin’ dumbass.” She linked her arm with mine and ushered me away. “Lemme tell you something about my cousin, Trace…”

* * *

“Don’t go any deeper than that, Alvin,” I reminded him and threw a towel around my shoulders.

“I won’t!” he promised. He was only six or so feet out, but it got deep so fast, and he couldn’t swim very well.

Trace gestured and swam out a bit, silently letting me know he’d keep an eye on the boy. I nodded in thanks.

Alvin wasn’t exactly reckless in the water; he literally just walked around in waist-deep water and tried to see if he could find fish and signs of life along the bottom, but it meant he was easily distracted. He didn’t always notice his surroundings.

I tried to bring him up here at least twice every summer, and if that didn’t work, we’d hit up one of the city beaches early in the morning or later toward the evening.

Angie passed me and draped her towel over a rock. “That was a quick dip.”

“To cool down. I’m not done. I just want some coffee.” I wasn’t gonna let her insinuate the water was too cold. I fucking loved swimming. But I’d worked all night, and I was beat.

I returned to Ma and sat down on the blanket, making sure I could see Alvin.

Ma was one step ahead. She poured me a mug and handed me a cookie.

“Fuck yeah. Thanks.”

“I’m the one who owes you thanks, son,” she said, adjusting the umbrella a bit.

“Huh?”

“Both you and Trace,” she added.

Ah. She was talking about Trace’s plans for the future. Which…fine, I dared to call them my plans now too. Trace proved that every single day. He wanted this as much as I did.

“You didn’t think I’d stick you in a home, did you?” I furrowed my brow.

She chuckled softly and stirred creamer into her own coffee. “Well, no, but I can’t tell you how many of my girlfriends feel like a burden around their families. Did I tell you about Margaret’s sons? They made a schedule to determine who got stuck visiting her.”

She’d told me more than once.

“The younger generation tends to forget we can still be useful,” she said.

She wasn’t wrong there. Not that we wanted her around because of her cooking and whatever. She’d raised me up. She’d taken care of Alvin. She’d been there for me for far longer than any parent should.

I took a swig of my coffee. “You got Trace hooked on your cooking, so the expectations are high for the day you move in.”

She smiled. “I do like that boy very much. He’s so good for you too.” She nodded at the water. “And for Alvin.”

I followed her gaze and saw the two together. I sat a little straighter in reflex. Alvin was out farther, the water reaching his chest, but he was holding both Trace’s hands, and they shared matching grins.

Ma was right, and I already knew that from before. Slowly getting Alvin’s room ready had proved that more than once. Trace was bolder. Careful but bolder.

He drew out the more…teenage aspects in Alvin. It was easy for me to treat my son like a kid, partly because I was a tad overprotective, partly because I’d spent years missing him when I couldn’t be there every day. So whenever I got my opportunity, I coddled him.

I went out and bought baking soda for him. Trace was the one who said, “Okay, let’s go, bud!”

We’d discovered that Alvin could handle going to our two nearest convenience stores without problems. They were just a few blocks away. Then, once there, he’d hit a wall and screwed his eyes shut. The first time, Trace hadn’t batted an eye. He’d called an Uber to take them home. Three blocks. Now, we timed it so I could pick them up after work.

I was probably always going to hate myself on some level for holding Alvin back. Not necessarily with my fussing, but with my inability to be there for him as much as he needed. If I’d just had a steady job the whole time, we would’ve had more stability. More security. And I would’ve been able to push him the way he needed to be pushed.

Maybe I was sleepy enough that my internal defenses were down, ’cause I admitted these thoughts to my ma, and she just shook her head at me.

“What?” I got a little testy. Maybe. “You know it’s true. He’s had too much instability in his life. Too many worries. You can’t push yourself to go to the store when you’re suffering from anxiety because you don’t know when Dad will come around again.”

At that, she scoffed. “Are you hearing yourself, boy? Please apply that same logic to your own situation. Or are you blaming your rough years on yourself? Because that would be seriously stupid.”

I scowled.

“You got dealt a crappy hand, son,” she said. “You didn’t have enough family around you. Lindsey passed away—God rest her soul. Your industry all but collapsed. How many smaller businesses did you see go down the past ten or fifteen years?”

I lowered my gaze to my mug.

“And you have a son who needs extra help,” she went on. “You can’t be everywhere and do everything, Ben. You can’t be two parents and a full-time provider under those circumstances. You just can’t. But you never stopped trying, and that’s what matters. You sacrificed everything so that Alvin could be okay. You lived with friends, you gave up having your own home, and every penny you earned went to him.”

I let out a long breath and sipped from my coffee. It was fucking hard hearing this from her. Logically, I knew she was right. If this had happened to Garrett or Angie, I never would’ve blamed them like I blamed myself.

“Think about the future instead,” she advised. “You finally have a partner. Someone who’s as crazy as you are.”

I sent her a sideways smirk.

She smiled. “You’re not only sharing a workload, sweetie. You’re sharing your dreams. You’re making them come true together. Our family is growing for the first time. I, for one, can’t wait to meet Trace’s parents. Or his ma, at least. I hear his old man is much like you two.”

I chuckled and dipped my chin. I’d only spent approximately an hour or two with Kell and Teresa, but they were good people. They’d flown in over a weekend just to adopt Pippen. And the way things had gone down had left no room for me to be a nervous wreck. They’d been understaffed at the bar, so I had left one job to start another. But zero complaints from me. Now that I was contributing everywhere and pulling my weight, the overtime meant both Trace and I could start saving. Every dollar counted.

We wanted those two weeks in Florida every year.

We wanted presents under the tree every Christmas.

We wanted everyone to get food at the soup kitchen.

We wanted date nights with beefs, hot dogs, and steak.

We wanted Alvin to continue making progress.

As if sensing I was thinking about him, Trace glanced over at me and smiled.

Alvin was clinging to his back, testing the waters. Literally.

I smiled back.