Love Will (71 page)

“Okay.”

“Say, Gunner, sit,” I encourage her.

“Gunner, sit!” She still yells, but he complies with her first order, so I don’t have to scold her.

“Gunner, give Edie kisses.” He licks her little cheek three times, causing her to burst out in giggles. Willow laughs, too, but not enough to let go of the pacifier in her mouth.

“She doesn’t let anyone hold her like that, Will. No one but you,” Livvy says, taking Gunner’s leash and securing it to the wrought iron table–not that he’d ever go anywhere without me and Shea. “She wants to be on her own, all the time, but when you’re around… just let her cuddle with Uncle Will.”

“I don’t mind at all.”

Obviously aware that her mother is talking about her, she wiggles around, stretching her arms out and offering me a hug. I reposition her and let her wrap them around my neck while I deliver a kiss to her cheek. After my namesake was born, I had exactly one month to spend with her before I left for Abu Dhabi, and I spent time with her every day in hopes that she would learn who I was. When I came back three months later, she smiled the moment she saw me, and never once cried when I held her. We’d definitely bonded more than Edie and I had when she was a small baby, but I feel like Willow’s older sister and I have a special relationship now, too.

I probably owe Shea a lot of gratitude for both. She coached me through being around small children again. It had been a long time since Max was a baby, after all.

“Little man!”

“Daddy!”

I look up to see Hampton running toward Peron and his girlfriend, Finola.

“Don’t you look so handsome today,” my friend says as he sets his bass down.
Fucking corduroys and loafers
…

“Hey, Per! Good to see you, Finola!”

“Will, how was he?”

I stand up, carrying Willow with me to talk to him. She’s completely relaxed and splayed across my chest now. “He was great. Such a fun little kid.”

“Yeah, he is. And thanks for doing that. We had a really good night out.”

“It wasn’t a problem.”

“So, Hampton, I want you to meet someone…”

I decide to give them some time alone. I’m sure Peron’s son will latch onto her like he does to just about every stranger he meets–which is so different from his dad–but I know Finola’s been nervous about making the moment perfect. I notice she even brought him a present.

“Where’s Max?” I ask my mother.

“He’s on his way. His flight was late, so I let him sleep in.”

“Anyone know if he’s gonna see Callen while he’s in town?”

Livvy shakes her head. “His spring break was last week, so no. He came to my parents’ house with Trey for dinner one night.”

“Probably for the best,” I say. Jon nods his head. “I wish I had known, though. I would have liked to have seen him. So, is Trey coming today?” I ask her.

“He and Zaina should be here any minute.”

“She’s here, too?” I ask Livvy about her little brother’s girlfriend and Max’s other close friend.

“Yeah. He doesn’t know. They were going to surprise him.”

“That should make him really happy.”

I hand off Willow to my brother as more of my friends and coworkers show up for our little impromptu ‘welcome back to the real world’ celebration. I’d been buried in research and work for the past six months, spending no less than eighteen hours a day out of the apartment every single day. At least I was in New York most of that time. It was only last week that I had to go back to Abu Dhabi to defend my thesis, and since I’ve been back, I’ve done nothing but sleep, make love to Shea, and write music–something I could feel was missing in the depths of my soul.

Fortunately, I’d done plenty of it in the previous year and a half to fulfill the terms of the contract
and
to work with Peron to provide Damon with enough material for two more albums–one that has yet to be released.

“
Doctor
Scott, are you ready to get warmed up?” my friend asks as he takes his bass from its case.

“Sure thing. I have a new one I need to try out on you anyway.” I go inside and get the five barstools that Shea had rented for us, lining them up against the windows.

“You’re gonna make me improvise in front of my girlfriend and kid?” he whispers as I set up.

“For one thing, your kid seems tone deaf right now. Secondly, it’ll be simple. Promise. It’s a ballad.”

“All right. And Hampton’s not tone deaf. He’s nineteen months old and he can match pitch. If you’re referring to that awful guitar you bought him, that thing doesn’t make any real music.”

“Okay, okay… I know what to get him for his second birthday. That’s fair.”

“You can’t make judgments on kids until you have one of your own…”

“Oh, not you, too.”

“Get married first. Any plans for that?”

“Will you cool it already?”

“So none. Still.”

“We’re perfectly happy where we’re at. We see no need to rush into anything else. She’s so busy with the restaurant and I just want to settle into a routine for the first time in…
ever
.”

“Marriage is good for routines.” Finola nods her head in agreement.

I scowl at both of them. “Weddings take an inordinate amount of time to plan, Shea wants her sister to be involved, and Sarah’s committed to her work in Nigeria for a few more years. So we wait.”

“Engagement?”

“Let. My. Life. Settle. Down.
Please
. When the fuck would I have had time to plan anything special for her? She deserves something special–
beyond
special.” I strum my Martin a few times to make sure it’s still in tune.

“That’s true, Peron,” his girlfriend says. “That’s not something he should rush.”

“The only one allowed to put pressure on me is her, for the record, and she’s just happy to not have to share me with NYU anymore.”

“No, now she gets to share you with me again,” Peron says.

“When are you moving?” I joke with him.

“I’m the best dog-sitter you know.”

“Yeah, you are.” I notice Shea has stopped working for now and is chatting with Livvy and the girls, so I decide it’s a good time to start. “Are you ready for this?” I take a seat on the center barstool.

“I’ll join in when I get the feel for it.”

“Ummm, hey everyone,” I say, not too loud. “We’re just going to play a little song I wrote last night to warm up. This is sort of my public solo singing debut here in the States. I did it often in the UAE. Oh, and Peron’s never heard this one before, so… forgive him if he’s a little off.”

“Wooo!” Livvy cheers, holding Edie in her lap and clapping her hands together. Jon’s bouncing Willow on his knee.

“Finola, why don’t you bring Hampton up front,” I suggest as Peron’s girlfriend gets to know his son. I wait until they’re settled before I begin:

Hey, Hampton

What a friend I have made today

Peron looks at me, stunned, as his hands fall away from his bass.

“The song sounds fine without a bass line, if you just want to listen,” I tell him with a wink.

Say, Hampton

Oh, how I've been led astray

But you showed me the way

Hey, Hampton

For years I've lived in dread and fear

Unsure of how I'll be

Sometimes I think I've seen too much

Perhaps they'd ruined me

But just a short while spent with you

Has made me see the light

This funny, little, pale, blonde babe

Inspired me to write

Hey, Hampton

What a friend I have made today

Say, Hampton

Oh, how I've been led astray

But you showed me the way

Hey, Hampton

You're a little like your daddy

In all of the good ways

You already have more hair than him

For that, I am amazed!

“Man, screw you,” Peron says, laughing as he drags his hand through his hair.

It doesn't seem his OCD

Was passed down onto you

The socks you had to wear last night

One was green; one was blue

Hey, Hampton

What a friend I have made today

Say, Hampton

Oh, how I've been led astray

But you showed me the way

Hey, Hampton

I watch Shea as I sing the bridge. We’d spent plenty of time with my nieces, and the idea of kids no longer terrified me, but there was a shift in my thinking last night as we watched Hampton.

Insecurity has held me back

Infidelity was in my bones

Addiction was a big concern

Love, not in my comfort zone

Were these things innate in me, 

And would I pass them on

To any child doomed to be

The son of trouble's spawn?

Your kindness is what I'd expect 

From any child of his

And you insist on holding hands

When my hair wants for my fist

Hey, Hampton, you're the very best

Of all that is my friend

You give me hope that a child of mine

Will be a good one in the end.

Hey, Hampton

What a friend I have made today

Say, Hampton

Oh, how I've been led astray

But you showed me the way

Hey, Hampton

“Man…” That’s all I get out of Peron when I’m finished, although everyone else is applauding. He finally gets up and hugs me, patting me on the back multiple times as a show of gratitude.

“You’re doing great with him, Per. He’s an awesome kid.”

“Thanks, Will. I love the song.”

“I’m glad.”

We set down our instruments, and he finds his little boy, humming the tune to him as he holds him. I look around for Shea, finally finding her standing near the entrance to the restaurant by herself.

“That’s why you didn’t come to bed until late?” she asks me.

“Yeah.”

“Will, any child you have will be
good
. You don’t need to worry.”

“Shea, last night was the first time I actually had the thought that I
wanted
a child of my own.” Her smile is quick to form. “Of
our
own. And I don’t think I’d mess things up–”

She kisses me before I can finish my sentence. Her fingers threaded in my hair, she holds my head to hers, leaving me breathless like she has since our very first kiss. I back her into the brick wall next to the door, out of sight from the patrons inside, but still not far enough away from my family and friends or strangers passing us on the street. The cat-calling is raucous from the people on the patio, but the admonishment from my mother–to
them
, not to
me
–makes me realize everyone understands that no matter how long I’ve physically been back in Manhattan, my mind has literally been a billion miles away as I’ve lived amongst my gamma-ray research. If my conservative mother forgives my borderline-inappropriate behavior with Shea, then everyone else should, too.