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Tobey ran his hand across his buzzed hair as he stuck his phone back in his pocket. He hadn’t slept well the past two nights, either, even though his bed in their Chicago apartment was infinitely more comfortable than both the motel mattress and Emmett’s couch. He just hadn’t known how to tell Emmett that they had to go back to Chicago, and afraid that if he saw him again, Tobey would just go straight back to kissing Emmett. Emmett deserved some distance from him, to get his head clear. There was no way a respectable widower computer programmer could actually be attracted this rugged loser, right? Right?
There was a reason Tobey was the one who had inherited the Sanderson property. There was a reason he had been approved to adopt Cosmo ten years ago. He was the responsible one in the family. He had his shit together, and he got shit done.
And shit had to get done.
He knocked on Cosmo’s door. “You ready to go?”
“Mmmmmrrrggg, I’m sick, can’t go,” Cosmo said.
“It didn’t work the last twenty times, and it’s not going to work this time,” Tobey said. “Don’t make me get out my drill sergeant voice.”
“Mmmmmrrrgg,” Cosmo said, because he knew firsthand what Tobey’s drill sergeant voice sounded like.
Tobey poured himself a travel mug of coffee. Their apartment kitchen had often filled Tobey with pride. It was hard to get this much new square footage in Chicago. But after a week in Emmett’s old country house and the dilapidated mansion, the stainless steel appliances and white fiberboard cabinetry felt sterile and lifeless. Tobey had noticed that Emmett had put up some family pictures on the fridge. Tobey didn’t even have any family pictures to hang. He had a postcard of his favorite motorcycle and lots of Post-its full of numbers of parts dealers he worked with. One of the numbers was marked out in Sharpie; he had been a great supplier, but Tobey had dated him for a while, and it hadn’t ended well.
There was another, better, laminated list in the shop, but Tobey often worked early in the morning before heading in. The rest of the kitchen was tidy, like the rest of the apartment. Tobey had never been able to shake the military training to keep everything spick and span. It took everything in his power to keep himself from tucking the corners on Cosmo’s bed every morning.
“Fine, I’m ready to go,” Cosmo said, shoving his hands into his pockets as he slouched into the kitchen. “Let’s get this over with.”
Tobey offered him his cup of coffee. “You can milk this up and take it with us.”
Cosmo accepted it warily. “Thanks.”
Three hours later, they were the first visitors to sign in at the penitentiary. They put all their things in a plastic bin and got the usual pat down from their usual guard. Then the guard behind the bullet proof screen yawned and punched the button. The door unlocked with a loud buzz, and they walked back to the visitors’ area.
Tobey and Cosmo sat down at a circular table.
A few minutes later, a different guard opened a door across the way and led in a man in shackles.
He would have looked exactly like Tobey if Tobey had been much thinner and shaggier and experimented with a lot more drugs. When he smiled, he revealed a set of tobacco-stained teeth. “Hey, there, Tobey, Cosmo,” he said as the guard relocked his chains to the table. “You guys are here early.”
“Hey, Timmy,” Tobey said. “How you doing?”
“Can’t complain,” Timothy MacLeod answered with another grin. “It’s always a good day when my favorite brother and son are here to see me.”
Cosmo turned his head away from Timmy, put his hands in his pockets, and slouched down in his chair.
“Hands visible at all times,” the guard shouted.
Cosmo put his hands back on the table.
“We brought you a big stack of Peeps leftover from Easter,” Tobey said.
“Ah, good, they’ll be nice and stale by now. Are they rabbits or chicks?”
“Chicks, obviously,” Tobey said. “And four issues of Hot Bike that Molly picked up for you.”
“Any cigarettes?” Timmy asked.
Tobey glared at him.
Timmy shrugged: can’t blame me for asking. “So Mom came by the other day, said you were in Ohio. What’s up with that? What’s there to do over there?”
“Nothing, just taking a little break from the Windy City,” Tobey said. “We saw some cows.”
Timmy probably knew Tobey wasn’t telling him everything, but he didn’t really have room to call him out on it. He turned to Cosmo. “Cosmo, how’re things with you?”
Cosmo ignored him, tapping his thumbs on the table impatiently.
“Right.” He sighed. “Anyway, my parole hearing is in six weeks.”
“We know,” Tobey said. How could they forget? Timmy mentioned it every time they visited for the past year. And now it was coming down to the wire. “Think they’re gonna let you out this time around?”
Timmy shrugged. “I’ve been good lately. I have a feeling this is my lucky break.”
Lucky break. Let’s call it that. “You got a place lined up to stay?” Tobey asked.
“Not yet,” Timmy said. “Maybe you could put me up for a bit?”
“We’ll see,” Tobey said. “Why don’t you have your lawyer put in some calls to halfway houses, in the meantime.”
“On it, bro.”
They didn’t stay much longer. There wasn’t much to say, and Cosmo refused to talk. On the way home they got breakfast burritos.
“Dad,” Cosmo said. He always called Tobey Dad after visits.
“Yes, Cos?” Tobey said.
“You’re not going to let Timmy stay with us if he gets out, are you?”
“No way,” Tobey said.
“Okay.” Cosmo sucked the rest of the salsa out of the packet. “You know, Timmy won’t be allowed to leave the state while he’s on probation.”
“Yes...?” It took Tobey a minute to see what Cosmo was implying. Ohio. He wanted to go back to Ohio. So they couldn’t get dragged into whatever drama Timmy would inevitably bring upon himself.
“I know you hate to hear it, but Timmy is part of our family, messed up or not,” Tobey said. “We can’t just run away from our family. That’s not what families do.”
“You mean, that’s not what you do,” Cosmo said sourly. He looked out the window and didn’t talk the rest of the drive.
Tobey drove them directly to the motorcycle shop. He hadn’t been in since they got back, and he really needed some time with machines that didn’t have opinions about his personal life.
As soon as they arrived, Cosmo locked himself in the office with his Gameboy. Tobey went into the back. “Molly, you here?” he called.
Molly waved a wrench from behind a motorcycle. “Aren’t I always?” She stood up and gave Tobey a crushing hug; she was six feet tall and all muscle. “Where’s Cos?”
Tobey jerked his head toward the office. “Bad mood.”
“Oh, you went to see Timmy already then?”
“How’d you guess?” Tobey asked with a smirk.
“Did you tell Timmy about the house?”
“No way,” Tobey said. “One sniff of me getting something he doesn’t have? He’ll think there’s tons of money in it and try to steal it from me.”
“Would that be such a bad thing?” Molly asked. She had heard detailed reports of how bad a shape the Death Trap was in. She handed him her wrench. “Work on this, I’ll make us a pot of coffee. Just needs two screws tightened on the carburetor.”
“You’re the best,” Tobey said.
Molly was the big sister Tobey had needed to keep his life on course. They had lived across the way in the apartment complex growing up, and her mom had watched Timmy and Tobey after school when their mom was tripped out and nowhere to be found. Tobey couldn’t remember a piece of his childhood—or adult life—without Molly in it. When they both were in high school shop and discovered their love for fast vehicles, Tobey encouraged Molly to take mechanic classes at the vo-tech. When Tobey got back from Afghanistan, they rented out the shop together. When Tobey needed a babysitter for Cosmo, Molly was the first person he called. When he went on a bad date, Molly brought the whiskey. When Timmy needed a getaway car or a place to stash his drugs, Molly kept Tobey out of the mess.
Molly came back with filled travel mugs. They always used lidded cups around the machinery.
“I think Cosmo wants to stay in Ohio,” Tobey said after a sip.
“Makes sense,” Molly said. “He’s never been a city kid, involved in the hustle, needing to always be out and about. He works better in enclosed spaces.”
“We’ve inherited twenty acres. Not really an enclosed space.” Tobey laughed then sobered. “But I know what you mean.”
“Remember when he got lost on the L?” Molly said.
“Yes,” Tobey said. Cosmo, eight, had been about six feet away from Tobey and Molly on the train. When three other people boarded and stepped in between them, Cosmo had cried that he was lost for the next five stops. He refused to get on the L for over a year after that.
Molly nodded and took her coffee off to another vehicle and got to work. She wasn’t a huge talker, but Tobey knew she would listen when he was ready to say something else.
About an hour later, Tobey got a text from Emmett. It was a picture of the fridge with two new Post-its, one with a new list of dinner ideas and the second with groceries. Emmett’s handwriting was much smaller and tidier than Tobey’s. His text read: Look, I did it by myself!
Tobey smiled and tapped his lips with his phone.
Emmett: Benny might have helped a little.
Emmett: Okay, a lot.
Tobey laughed. You could have taken all the credit. I wouldn’t have known the difference.
Emmett: I’m an honest soul.
Tobey: I thought you were good at lists.
Emmett: Next time I’ll do it in excel. BY MYSELF.
“What you smiling about?” Molly asked.
Tobey shoved his phone in his pocket. “Nothing.”
Molly smiled back and didn’t push it.
~
That night Tobey got out his laptop and started an excel spreadsheet of his own. It wasn’t super detailed or scientific, but it helped to sort through his feelings. He stared at everything for a while then got out his phone to text Emmett.
Tobey: I need to ask you a favor.
Emmett didn’t text back for a long time, but then Tobey remembered that it was Kate’s bedtime, so he tried not to get anxious.
“Why do you keep staring at your phone?” Cosmo asked, coming into the kitchen and opening the fridge.
“Because I’m addicted to it in this digital age,” Tobey retorted.
“Who are you waiting to call you?” Cosmo asked.
“None of your business,” Tobey said.
“It’s not Violet, is it?” Cosmo persisted.
“No, it is not Violet,” Tobey replied. Violet was his mom. She preferred Cosmo call her by her given name. Being called “grandma” made her feel old. “I haven’t heard from her in like a month. She talks to Timmy more than to me.”
“Good. I don’t want to see her. I think she was drunk at my birthday,” Cosmo said, pulling out two slices of cold pizza and a Coke and closing the fridge with his foot.
“Yeah, she totally was,” Tobey said with a sigh. He stared at his spreadsheet, where multiple cells were filled with the names of their jacked-up family members.
Tobey’s phone buzzed as Cosmo returned to his room.
What’s up? Emmett replied.
Tobey: Can you start filing the paperwork for those grants and loans you mentioned?
Emmett: On it, captain!
Tobey: I wasn’t a captain. Just a private. Sorry to disappoint.
Emmett: You could have taken credit, I wouldn’t have known the difference.
Tobey chuckled.
Emmett: Do you know when you’re coming back?
Tobey quickly typed out, Why, do you miss me? He backspaced before hitting send. He had only been gone three days. And he had only known Emmett a week. He was being ridiculous. So he just typed, Soon, I think.