Sitting behind his desk, Nick grabbed a sheet of paper for a fathers’ rights support group he’d printed off the Internet. The guy who’d started it was fighting a custody battle himself, and according to the claims on his website, without the help of expensive legal aid.
Maybe Nick needed to set up a time to talk with the man, see how he did it. Although the website didn’t mention whether he’d been successful or not.
A knock sounded on the door, and Rictor poked his head in. “You all right?”
Nick studied his employee. He was a good guy, had always been a faithful and true friend. Rictor would never hurt him—keep something from him, on purpose. So why was he being so evasive? “I’ll make it.”
“How long you planning on hiding out in this dungeon of yours? Don’t you have a hot date tonight?”
Heat flooded Nick’s face. “It’s dinner with a friend. Nothing more.”
“Uh-huh.” Rictor drummed his fingers on the doorframe. “Because your face turns watermelon red whenever you hang with your buds, right?”
“Did you need something?”
“Yeah. The GC said his sprinkler guy’s running behind. Got held up on another job.”
“How behind?”
“Don’t know. He said he’d call sometime next week.”
Nick checked his watch and crossed the room. “Would you mind locking up after the repair crew leaves?”
“I’m all over it.”
“Thanks.”
Rictor clamped a hand on Nick’s shoulder, his gaze intensifying. “That’s what friends are for. Now get. Don’t want to keep your lady friend waiting.” He winked.
Nick rolled his eyes, fighting an emerging smile as his thoughts shifted to Tammy, who had been the only drop of sunshine in his otherwise murky life.
Nick searched the dim interior of Medford’s lobby for Tammy. With all the bench seating taken, she waited near a window, framed by the evening sun. Her pink blouse, gathered at her narrowed waist, brought out the peach in her complexion.
A boy with carrot-toned hair and ruddy cheeks stood beside her, acting more fidgety than a caged squirrel. A teen girl with freckles and strawberry-blonde hair occupied her right. Hip shoved out, the girl alternated between staring at her phone and scanning the clogged lobby. She looked as enthused as a sleep-deprived sloth.
Straightening, Nick maneuvered through the throng of people to Tammy.
He glanced from her to each of her kids in turn. “Hey, guys”.
Tammy placed one arm around her son’s shoulder and the other around her daughter’s waist. “These are my children, Tylan and Becky.” She cast a sideways glance at her daughter. “This is Nick, a friend from high school.”
“The donor guy?” Tylan regarded him with a wrinkled brow, the corners of his mouth dipping into a frown.
Tammy’s cheeks flushed. “I . . . He . . .”
“It’s all right.” Nick turned to Tylan. “Yes, I’m the father of an organ donor.” He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and flipped it open to a picture of Payton. “This is—was—my son. He was fourteen. Almost . . .” His voice caught. He swallowed. “Would’ve turned fourteen this August. He was quite the young man. A dynamo on the football and baseball field.”
Awkward silence ensued.
Nick surveyed the restaurant. Nearly every table was occupied. Bussers hustled to clear and wipe those that weren’t. The door swooshed open, and a party of five crammed into the already crowded lobby. People jostled out of the way, only there was nowhere for them to go. The thick, nose-burning smell of cheap perfume wafted from a group of bejeweled women standing a few feet away. They laughed and carried on as if everyone else wanted—needed—to be part of their conversation.
Nick kept his arms pinned to his sides to avoid stabbing someone with his elbows. He glanced at Tammy. “You put our names down?”
She nodded with a sheepish smile. “They said it’d be a thirty to forty-five minute wait.”
Tylan groaned, and Becky rolled her eyes. Nick smiled, remembering similar responses from his boys. It was a bittersweet memory, one that warmed and wrenched his heart.
“You know . . .” Nick glanced toward the door, then back to Tammy. “There’s a burger joint around the corner. Hungry Man’s Grill. What do you say we blow out of here?”
Tylan’s head snapped up, a toothy grin emerging. Even Becky perked up.
Tammy laughed. “Sure.”
The moment the words left her mouth, both kids bolted toward the door.
Chuckling, Nick extended a hand. “After you.”
Tammy’s blue eyes sparkled, a soft smile playing on her rosepetal lips. His heart stirred, taking him by surprise. Did he still love her, or was this his grief talking? Most likely the latter, but even so, it was good to have a friend.