Mind Games

Page 140



It turned into a little party when gangly, goateed Arlo arrived. More pizza, more wine, talk of new babies and play sets and monster trucks.

Ty relaxed into it. Small-town life, he supposed, had moments like this, if you decided to take them. He could give Bray this if they stayed. Good neighbors, a pizza place where a waitress knew a kid liked trucks, a visiting dog, a kind of honorary grandmother just down the road, a small school where an active, energetic boy would surely make friends.

A good place to raise kids, Lucy had said. It felt like it.

And, bonus, a quiet, private place to work.

The scale grew heavier on that side of things nearly every day.

Bray’s eyes drooped by the time Ty strapped him back into his car seat. And still, he managed a slurry, “Nighttime swing.”

“That’s right, pal.”

“He’s already out,” Thea murmured when Ty came around and got behind the wheel.

“Yeah, and he’ll wake up about midnight, I figure, come in, and remind me I promised he could have a nighttime swing.”

“And you’ll take him out?”

“A promise is a promise.”

She could imagine it, the father dragging himself out of bed to push his little boy on a swing under the stars.

“Grammie was right. He has a good daddy.”

“He’s everything.”

“Exactly how it should be.”

He glanced over. “I like your friends.”

“Me, too. Do you miss yours? You were friends, not just bandmates.”

“Still are friends—the best I’ve ever had. And yeah, sometimes, I miss just dropping down, having a beer, sharing a pizza. Everybody’s busy, that’s how it works. But we connect. We did a video call just yesterday. Mac’s got his solo tour coming up, Scott’s lady’s expecting their second in January, and he’s working on a book about Code Red—God help us all—and Blaze just signed to do a guest shot on a pilot. Some streaming show about werewolves.”

“Well, I’ll be all over that.”

“You’re a werewolf fan?”

“I wonder about anyone who isn’t. Do you miss performing?”

“Now and again.” His gaze flicked to the rearview mirror, and back to his son.

“If the breeze is right, I hear you playing. Faint, like dream music. And it’s lovely. So that’s almost a performance—for one.”

“I’ll take it. What I don’t miss is touring. Mac thrived on it, so he’s the first to go back into it. For me? It’s nice knowing where you are when you wake up.”

“Nice, I imagine, to walk into a pizza parlor and be able to eat like everyone else.”

“You’re not wrong. And it was nice to have you there. I’m getting a grill,” he added as he turned into the lane and continued up. “Once I do, I want your family over. I can cook a steak on the grill. Steak, burgers, dogs. Haven’t mastered chicken, but I will.”

“My family’s always ready for a summer barbecue. I really enjoyed this, all of it. Play set through pizza.”

“So did I.”

She opened her door, slipped out. “Good night, Ty.”

“Good night.”


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